Bethas.
Traveling to the Wick Festival as we speak. Boy, this cart is bumpy. I wish Bill would stop swerving like that, it's so...oh. Some crazy kov's out there doing tricks and taking up half the road. Why can't people just drive?
Anyway, I missed the festival last year 'cause I was sick, so I figure now's a pretty good time to try'n sell some stuff. Plus, I think Jeff's been fooling around with one of my female hingles I've had--she looks chubbier than usual. Pets sell, although I'll do my best to make sure they go to good homes, not good cooking pots. I'll have to stop by that friend of mine with the printing press; I'm running out of 'Hingles are Friends, not Food' pamphlets.
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((just establishing here. think it's easier to write this in first person. WHYYY))

Mid-Bethas, Festival.
Made a new friend or two, I think. I'm going to do a demonstration with these two chips named Sarinah and Calli--first time I've actually had help.
I'll continue this later--must eat something.
Something green.

This is written in very, very girly handwriting, in bright pink.