When I was a little girl, our fair ("our" meaning the fair 30 miles from home...close enough) was on par with Christmas for me: it came around once a year, it was spectacularly exciting, and I got to eat a lot of junk. What's not to love? I remember feeling so small among the crowds of people, the noise of midway, and the smells of deep-fried deliciousness. My dad would play this old-school crane game and win us treasures, like tiny oil-lamps and other kitschy stuff, which I adored. We would go on rides and see people we knew and exhaust ourselves. It was awesome.
I was so excited to share this with V. We actually went last year, and it was fun, but she was overwhelmed (she cried through the whole carousel ride) and we didn't stay long. This year, though, she's so much more worldly and brave, and after three hours (and $60! how is that possible?) we had to drag her away. This time, there were no carousel tears, and Daddy was such a good sport that he rode the train, too. 
As comfortable as that looks, we decided to let V ride alone when the chance to sit next to her friend McKenna came up. Here they are piloting a "Marines" helicopter, with some show-off punk in the back. The girls are concentrating on keeping the bird in the air, yo.
We went to a free puppet/song/something or other show, with an overly outgoing host and a plea to buy stuff at the end to help save the rainforest. It was in a nice, cool, tent, though, and everyone and everything looked weirdly green. See? V thought it was worthwhile enough to sit pretty still for the whole 25 minutes.
We also went to the petting zoo (the only farm animals on site were bunnies, 2 ducks, and 2 ganders, which we also saw...cows and horses were coming later in the week) and V was really, really into picking up the pine shaving bedding and throwing it. I was not so much into this. Nor was this pot-bellied pig.
The camel didn't mind, though. (What is it about camel eyes that I like so much? Is it that they always look so laid-back and calm? Or that I suspect she's plotting when to spit at me?)
We had such a good time. This fair? Though it seems much much smaller to me, now, and though I didn't win any tiny oil lamps, this might've been the best fair yet.
I was so excited to share this with V. We actually went last year, and it was fun, but she was overwhelmed (she cried through the whole carousel ride) and we didn't stay long. This year, though, she's so much more worldly and brave, and after three hours (and $60! how is that possible?) we had to drag her away. This time, there were no carousel tears, and Daddy was such a good sport that he rode the train, too. 
As comfortable as that looks, we decided to let V ride alone when the chance to sit next to her friend McKenna came up. Here they are piloting a "Marines" helicopter, with some show-off punk in the back. The girls are concentrating on keeping the bird in the air, yo.
We went to a free puppet/song/something or other show, with an overly outgoing host and a plea to buy stuff at the end to help save the rainforest. It was in a nice, cool, tent, though, and everyone and everything looked weirdly green. See? V thought it was worthwhile enough to sit pretty still for the whole 25 minutes. We also went to the petting zoo (the only farm animals on site were bunnies, 2 ducks, and 2 ganders, which we also saw...cows and horses were coming later in the week) and V was really, really into picking up the pine shaving bedding and throwing it. I was not so much into this. Nor was this pot-bellied pig.
The camel didn't mind, though. (What is it about camel eyes that I like so much? Is it that they always look so laid-back and calm? Or that I suspect she's plotting when to spit at me?)We had such a good time. This fair? Though it seems much much smaller to me, now, and though I didn't win any tiny oil lamps, this might've been the best fair yet.
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