There's always a little magic afoot during The Fair. Glorious weather, sunsets, saw all my special people, cooked enough fireplace food for an army. It was early-August hot the first three days, and then on the last day, fall came. It's the only year of their life the boys didn't work with me on Antique Hill, but they felt like being "normal kids" for once and they are so often stuck in a time warp with me at the museum, it isn't that novel anymore. I'm worn out...it was, I believe, around 45 hours of work, crammed into four days. Well over 100 degrees in the Colonial Kitchen and my costumes were soaked with sweat and chicken grease...authentic I suppose, though rather grueling. The air turned crisp, the leaves started to change, literally yesterday, and there's no denying that winter is just around the corner.
The Bubs got blue ribbons on all their Floral Hall entries, it was such a busy summer we didn't enter as much as we usually do, but still got a few things in. John's fruit entries and chestnuts mostly got blues as well, just one red ribbon for our pears, but I maintain that's simply because the judge didn't TASTE them. Now on to pressing cider and stacking wood and putting on the storm windows.
