Yesterday (Monday), when I went to pick up my Fair entries (Fair ended Sunday evening), I looked up above the entrance gate for the first time to see a giant wooden cut-out of the miner-guy I drew for the logo. All those times I had passed through that gate, and I hadn't noticed.
Here's Tom from Wednesday evening munching on a grilled ear of corn (soft pretzel in the other hand). I may have mentioned in a previous post that most of the food at our fair is sold by local clubs or charitable organizations--4H, Rotary, Fire Auxiliary, Soroptimists, etc. The most popular food year to year is the corn dog sold by the Job's Daughters. The lines are at least 45-minutes long, often, and have to be folded around like a ride at Disneyland. Plus there's a wagon parked at the other end of the Fairgrounds which also sells corn dogs. Never a line. I've never had either, so I can't say for sure, but, how much better can one corn dog be than another? And, seriously, there still ARE Jobies?
Thursday morning, just after a seminar about water wells, I met my friend and neighbor, Lorri, at the Fair. She brought with her, Dolores, who is HER friend and neighbor. I guess that makes Dolores MY friend and neighbor, now, too. Dolores needs a wheelchair from time to time, so Lorri and I took turns pushing. I might have been a little aggressive.
We watched a show of trick dogs (mostly frisbee-catching), which was fun, munched our lunches to a bluegrass band and toured the exhibits, including the plants/bonsai displays and the fabric arts building. Quilts are always fabulous and I love looking at the knitted entries. Also, the spinners (wool, llama and alpaca fibers) and weavers. Colors! Speaking of which, I threw in a picture of some of the rides against the trees. I love the contrast between the natural and the not-so-much...
We all left mid-afternoon. I had to go help set up the Hospitality House booth at the Thursday Market.
Friday, I didn't make it to the Fairgrounds until early evening, when I brought my last Fair entry to the salsa competition. The kind you eat with chips. There were nearly forty bowls of salsa lined up on the tables. Mine was in the middle, which had no bearing on the outcome, I'm sure. I had made a fresh salsa, which turned to soup by judging time because I had forgotten to drain it. Oops. Still, it made it past the first round. I was clearly out of the running, though, as the field was narrowed to a dozen or so. My salsa game has some room to improve. Maybe a cooked one with a little chipotle flavor? Next year.
But then I dashed home because Rachel, Mike and Megan were scheduled to arrive for the weekend.
