Summer Diaries | Friday, September 1, 2023
Growing up, I never went to the fair.
My six-year-old self would have adored this.
Oh, I fantasized about it plenty. My well-versed imagination, stoked with countless storybook visits to idyllic county fairs, filled me with visions of prize-winning pigs, views from the top of Ferris wheels, and sticky sweet cotton candy to lick off my fingers. But never once did I kick through dusty piles of hay in the corner of a cattle shed, ride a magical carousel, or rub the nose of a contented Clydesdale.
So as soon as my daughters began to toddle, I decided to correct this oversight. And our annual visits to the Evergreen State Fair began.
^ Lord help me, how I do love a plain brown bunny.
^ Or even better, a pile of plain brown bunnies.
For years, we patrolled the animal barns, introducing our girls to the real-life versions of their farmyard storybook heroes. Every neigh, moo, and oink thrilled us all. When we'd completely worn ourselves out in the barns, ice cream cones were in order and the blackberry ice cream at the Purple Cow quickly became our tried and true. After our snack and perhaps a bit of livestock judging - which we all found surprisingly entertaining - we might head to the rides for a zip down the super slide on a burlap bag, or if we were feeling super courageous, a spin on the merry-go-round. As a last hurrah, we'd grab plastic bags of cotton candy, which the girls would eat in the car till they fell asleep in their car seats, completely worn out.
And I felt so happy that we had gone to the fair.
^ The ladies of the club.
^ I was not planning to take their picture, but who could say no to a pose like this?
^ My favorite horses are the Clydesdales. I love to talk to them and rub their necks.
Now, as all good things eventually do come to an end, this particular rite of childhood eventually wore thin. And though many years have passed since we made a family outing to the fair, this year felt like the right time to give it a whirl. So off we went, my husband and me, and daughters two and four.
As the big day rolled up, I realized that this was our first adults-only fair fiesta, and I wondered just how it would go. By no means were we tethered to the old agenda, and as one does when re-enacting old childhood rituals, I took a deep breath, let go of my expectations, and let the day play itself out.
^ This litter of 16 day old pigs - seven girls and one boy - ran at top speed in circles for at least ten minutes straight. Absolutely bonkers.
^ Then their mom, Lucy, came back from her mental health break in the outside ring, and the kids all lined up to eat.
Well. Surprise, surprise. The group consensus was that we should do everything just as we did in the good old days.
The animals held all the same magic; the newborn piglets are still our very most favorite.
^ Forget the scones, funnel cakes, and elephant ears. For my money, the Purple Cow is Ground Zero for delicious fair food.
Blackberry ice cream is as ridiculously delicious as ever, and while no one spilled anything, we still had to wash our sticky hands after eating.
We didn't ride the giant slide but only because we couldn't find it. Later we discovered it had been moved to a different part of the fairgrounds. Next time for sure.
^ Next time, I'll ride the Ferris wheel too.
And on our way out, we bought a bag of cotton candy and ate it on the way home.
No one fell asleep in their car seat, but I still felt so happy that we had gone to the fair.
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My 2023 Summer Diaries:
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