A chrysanthemum festival

My husband and I went to see a chrysanthemum festival which was held at a temple on our way to my father's home. The festival is held at the temple every year. I was used to seeing it with my mother every year. While watching many chrysanthemums I remembered my mother and my memories. After watching the event, my husband and I took a rest at an open-air cafe in the temple. We had a cup of coffee and  one stick of dango. Then we went to my father's home. Gonta welcomed us. Gonta was stroked on his head by my husband, so he looked like he was happy.