Fall

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

“Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go....” It took all of the verses of the song, sung several times through, to get us to Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Thanksgiving Day. Since my family often sang during car trips when I was young, I measured distance by the number of songs it took, not the number of miles. You are My Sunshine, The Bull Frog Song, Froggy Went A Courtin’ were regulars, as was 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall for longer trips. During the holidays, we included our seasonal favorites. “Hurrah for the fun; is the pudding done, Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!” Since timing was everything, we tried to finish the song as we pulled up to the gate. As we stepped onto the front porch, the sounds of laughter and wafts of roasting turkey and cornbread stuffing greeted us. Opening the…

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Fair Time

I’ve only had it for two months and already it is dog-eared, highlighted, underlined, almost worn out. It is my Exhibitor Handbook for the Eastern Idaho State Fair. Each year, it arrives sometime between the middle of June and early July. By early August, I have studied and consulted it, daydreamed and made decisions over it, all of which helps me answer the question, “What shall I enter in the Fair this year?” Already, as I am packing my choice exhibits my excitement is growing. My eager anticipation will culminate in exuberant delight on opening day of the Fair—just like it always has. I love the Fair. I have always loved the Fair. My earliest memories of days and evenings spent at the Fair include eating hamburgers and cotton candy, “helping” my parents at the Chamber of Commerce booth, eating hamburgers and cotton candy, watching my uncle carry the flag…

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Summertime Serendipity

“Do you know that you have a watermelon growing in your flower garden?” My friend was pointing to my “gate-crasher”, the uninvited guest, a single watermelon growing under the asters next to the snapdragons and pansies by my front steps. Even though some of its vines are now blackened by the frost of early fall, it is doing quite well in its sheltered bed. It’s about eight inches long and four inches in diameter; I’ll give it another week before I bring it inside. I first noticed the vine, complete with tiny yellow stars, in late July. I admired its spunk, its audacity to enter my flower bed and make itself at home like that. And, since it seemed to promise a future gift of appeasement, I let it stay. Actually, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find it growing there. It is residing in the flower bed that runs…

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