Shotsnaps

9.07.2013

What Time Is It, Mister Fox?

Right over the back pasture's hill live my cousin and his family. He and his wife have ten children-- nine lovely girls and one lone boy as the current caboose. Their bustle and our bustle don't overlap as much as they ought, but we walk down to fuss over new puppies and ponies when they're born, and, occasionally, a four-wheeler and a flock of girl-children materialize, and my girls revel in company for an hour or so.

I came out to herd the girls in for supper but returned for the camera after watching Zeke. I wonder what thoughts scurried around in his brain as he observed Girls in their Natural Habitat.

He scratched his head and gave up. They're inscrutable, buddy. Don't even bother.

To counter all those skirts, Zeke sounded his barbaric yawp across the rooftops,

but THEN he spied one his size and ambled over for a look-see.

Poor Florence. Her aloof response didn't put Zeke off a bit. He was jolly well determined they'd be chums. Wish him luck; he's gonna need it.

On Pins and Needles for a Monstrous Post

You bet it's that time of year! We drove to the state fair a couple of weeks ago, peeling down the road to jaunty tunes and raucous children. John surprised us by blasting the soundtrack to "State Fair" as we exited the driveway*, and the girls began laughing and bouncing and waving their arms. We listened to the whole thing, and our leavetaking was the best yet. The children's delight was contagious, so whenever I turned around, I began to laugh. "Our state fair is a great state fair! Don't miss it; don't even be laaate!"

(The funny thing about this is that John hates the state fair, along with any similar loud, gaudy gathering of the human horde. Taking us to The Great New York State Fair is a labor of love for the man, and we love him for it.)

First stop was Indian Village, where we watched dancers circle on Turtle Mound.

The girls are drawn to and slightly in awe of the smallest dancers; I remember those feelings when I was their age, too. There's a glamor to Indian Village that hasn't quite disappeared for me, even though with age and maturity, and knowing The Full Story, it probably should have by now.

The dancing square was slick from rain, so they didn't do any individual Smoke Dances, which are my favorite part. For the last several years, one tall stringbean of a boy has drawn our attention with his lightning feet and wild spins. I bet he was disappointed, too, because he always seems to be having such fun.

During the communal Smoke Dance, which is slower by necessity of all the dancers in close proximity, John was smoking his pipe. I loved that.

The dancing fixated Zeke this year. He stared resolutely and dance-clapped when the rhythm picked up.

I don't know why I took a picture of the longhouse roof but not of the longhouse itself. Also missing are pictures of the man hewing a canoe from a thick log, the enormous peace pipe (which John admired, of course, while still smoking his pipe), and the carvings.

Here's Luci staring at beadwork, instead. I don't think she appreciates the intricacy yet.

You can tell I took these pictures right after we arrived because I was actually taking pictures. I petered out soon after, though I did snap most highlights. The butter sculpture-- alas-- was not captured on my camera for the Shotsnaps Hall of Fame. It's a gross oversight, I know. Forgive me.

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We ducked into the 4-H building next, where John make a snarky comment about even Polish chickens looking funny. (He's the one who asked for my hand in marriage, though, so I have no sympathy.)

They do look funny, though.

The girls held baby chicks, saw others hatching, watched baby ducks and peacocks and turkeys, and ogled 4-H exhibits of all stripes before we moved along.

Millie spent some time in the spinning and knitting tent fingering yarn and wool and chatting with the women who were spinning, carding, and dying wool inside of it. She's going to make such a cozy, old lady one day.

Lo, the madding crowd.

Bother. This is taking too long.

I'm going to speed things along with some exclamation points. Lickety-split KAZAAM!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Dairy Building! Chocolate milk for 25 cents a cup! (...or white, but who in their right mind chooses white?) We drank up 40 tickets' worth! Yeah! Even Zeke chugged his share!

Oh, this was funny. Next to the butter sculpture is a free ride for little tots, and Piper was self-conscious riding it. The cows also inched along at -2 m.p.h., so that explains her expression, too.

Luci thought it was grand! And exciting! And her expression matches the cow's!

The horticulture building! These flowers were the size of Luci's head! Truly!

While John and Zeke waited in the mile-long line for baked potatoes, we admired the flower exhibits and strolled through the enclosed butterfly garden!

Butterflies! Flying! Almost as good as flying butter!

Yeah! Baked pototoes with all the fixings for a dollar apiece! We love sour cream! Butter! And cheese!

Yippeeee! The free circus! Three cheers for the happy girls behind us!

Jugglers, acrobats, back-flipping dogs, clown (singular), flying girls!

Oh, and camels! Camels with a shetland pony AND llamas? Even better!

The sand sculpture!

One of the best buildings is the one with three floors of awesomeness.

Floor 1: sewing, quilting, handicraft exhibits (no pictures)

Floor 2: The room full of miniatures!

Circuses everywhere you look!

Many model trains! Some with smoke!

A tiny fairgrounds!

And more!

Floor 3 is one of my favorite places in the entire fair. The art and photography exhibits are on this floor, and I meandered around soaking them in until Annika broke my reverie by running up and gasping in excitement, "You've GOTTA come with me!"

This floor contains a few antique curiosities, too, one of which is a 1913 player piano that fairgoers can enjoy. 100th birthday! Millie was chatting with the man who changed the music, and she was in the middle of playing it when Annie dragged me into the room.

She had chosen "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

Then we held the piano hostage while first Annie had a turn playing "The Phantom of the Opera,"

and then Piper, her legs barely long enough to reach the pedals, made it through the shortest song they had while bashfully trying to hide her excitement.

Susannah played one, too-- "You are My Sunshine"-- but I didn't take a snapshot because I was busy singing in two-part harmony with an elderly, mustachioed gentleman. (THAT was fun.)

The Department of Environmental Conservation building! Catfish! Rainbow trout! Fish with long skinny snouts whose name I forgot! Sunnies!

Turtles and bullfrogs!

The birthing center! Hours-old calves!

To end our fair experience with a bang, we usually use the money left over from our county fair winnings to ride the ferris wheel. In a sharp break with tradition, we launched into uncharted territory this year. A lady who walked out of the restrooms gave us 30 free ride tickets because she was leaving, and we bought a few more tickets to buckle into THIS!

I used to ride on this when I was younger, and I guess I must rave about how magical it is to the girls ("It's just like flying!") because they unanimously wanted to ride it.

Pip and Lu were too short to ride (and they would be terrified, anyway), but the older three and I stood in line for our turns. Annika was so excited she was sputtering.

It was extremely fun, and we're already hatching duplicate plans for next year, but I must be getting old, because as we lifted off and started whirling, it seemed much higher than it used to be-- much higher and faster with more dips and tilts. So much for everlasting youth...

Pip and Luci have only ever ridden on the ferris wheel, so when we took them to the younger children's rides, Pip was over the moon. She tried to fly over the moon, too, in this contraption, but it didn't take her far.