A "Fair" Affair

Everyone in Pomeroy seems to breathe a sigh of relief when the Garfield County Fair wraps up. I think most people really love it, but it's a big production for a small community. Pomeroy is the only town in Garfield County, so while a fair usually represents a gathering of various towns, this one is mostly a gathering of one community.

In a way, that's what makes our fair special. After living here for 8 years, I know many of the people. And when I go to the fair, I know almost everyone there. If I browse the exhibits, I see something from someone I know in every single area. And chances are if I don't know someone, I will meet them before the fair is over.

Example: my kids and I were finishing up our day at the fair with an elephant ear. The kids found a table (the big long tables are "community" tables; people sit together without knowing each other), and I pulled up a seat at the end. It didn't take long before we were having a chat with our fellow table-ettes, a group of women originally from the Seattle area. Their dad was in the nursing home out here, and they stopped to visit him and enjoy our fair before heading home. Before we left, they knew where we lived, what we did for fun, and what we had entered in the fair (my kids are SO friendly).

Another example: I was the superintendent of the craft department this year (it sounds like a much more important job than it really was, if truth be told), and at the end of the fair, I commented to one of the women who did crochet and knitting that I loved her work. I had met her briefly at last year's fair, and spent a little time getting to know her this year. (Her work was AMAZING; I can't imagine having the patience to create a pair of socks by hand; they were so beautiful that I can't fathom wearing them if you did!) Before the fair was over, she had blessed me with a beautiful piece of her work. I am in awe.

The kids' favorite part of the fair is not the exhibits, but the fun. In small town fashion, our fun consists of Chicken Scrambles (youngsters chase three horrified chickens around an area fenced with humans until the children are able to pounce and capture the chickens); the Straw Search (candy and money and prizes are mixed in with oodles of straw--the kids continue to dig long after the competition is over); the headless bull ride and the bungee jump. Between these festivities and the petting zoo, it's a wonder I ever get them to come home again.

Back to School

Ah, that first day of school. Ted and I would pick out that perfect outfit (less important for him than me, surely) and pose for the photo. There was always a photo.

"Oh, gee Dad. Come on, hurry up! We're looking into the sun. We're going to miss the bus. Take it tomorrow. Take it later. Come on, come on, come on..." until eventually, he would release us to start our day.

Would I be a good parent if I didn't subject my kids to exactly the same yearly initiation? To be honest, I think they still love the first day pictures. They are hams--they have their picture taken so often, they know what I'm going to say before I say it. They get together (get closer--you love each other!) and show me the best toothless grins imaginable. And I, of course, snap away.

That's where the photos of my youth differ. When Dad was paying for film and developing on every picture, we usually only got one chance to look awesome. And so we didn't. Our eyes were closed, our hair was sticking up, our pants were unzipped. In a way though, it was better because he truly captured the moment. My kids are going to think they looked perfect all the time. "Gosh Mom, what was wrong with you?"