The final bow
MintFest was the final outing for Bone Yard Tales this year. Now the Bone Yard must creak and groan its own dusty lullaby, fold into itself like a hibernating clock and settle into it’s barn for a Winter of rusty snoring, musty autumnal dreams and occasional scrapyard flatulence.
A hearty thank you to everybody involved – without you all it would not be possible.
We have our own specially unqualified Quack Doctor who will be checking up on the sleeping BoneYard during the winter months and will let us know when the first stirrings and rumblings start in the Spring.