As you know, I am a huge fan of The Common Ground Fair. A non-motorized, organic fair that celebrates Maine rural living.
But, I'm also a huge fan of tradition.
And, in my family, it is tradition to go to the Cumberland Fair (pronounced Cumberland Fay-eh).
Been doing it most of my life. My sister showed our sheep via 4H there. I've carried around dumb big stuffed animals won there. I have eaten a lot of fair food there. I do believe I developed my dislike for carnival rides there (read: vomiting was involved). Spent lots of money there. (By the way, in case you are reading this aloud, you should be pronouncing "there" as "thay-eh".)
Of course, in recent decades (I couldn't really mean decades?) my attendance has been sporadic. But, this year I decided to go. I went to the fair with my girls, my mom and her boyfriend and my niece.
I had a ball. I let my eldest eat cotton candy. We ate fair food. We checked out the fair entries (ranging from crafts to pickles to home grown veggies). I played a couple of games (and won dumb big stuffed animals that my daughter proudly carried around). I watched with a smile as the carousel twirled about with my daughter and her cousin. And, I witnessed a very intense game of whack-a-mole with my mother holding one of the mallets. I'm still in shock. Let's just say that if you are in my family and you believe in an after life (which I'm not saying I do), you really don't want to come back as a mole.
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