Husband is back to work, and back to work these days means teleworking from home. While I’m not exactly thrilled with this situation, Lord Dudley Mountcatten is ecstatic.
.
.
He’s been a daddy’s boy from day one and simply tolerates me because I am the opener of the can.
.
.
Having a home office with a cat in residence can be challenging.
.
.
Reports and correspondence take a back seat when the royal feline says attention must be paid.
I’m pleased to report the giant lemon lemonade stand was operational at the Fryeburg Fair …
.
.
And though it cost a ridiculous $8 per ice laden glass, I purchased one…
.
.
To accompany the husband’s three $10 chicken fingers and $5 bottle of water. $23 for what amounted to a nibble. Welcome to the price gouging, we know you have no alternative, fair food concession stands.
Trying to make up for it, I made a beeline for my favorite fair treat…
.
.
Which sadly was an undercooked, under spiced disappointing piece of fried dough. Boo to that.
I ate said disappointing dough in the grandstand of the pulling ring where the husband likes to watch the draft horses. I don’t enjoy this spectacle as I always feel sorry for the animals. The teams of three are expected to pull double their weight which can end up being 10,000 lbs, and while I know they’re bred and trained for this exact purpose… it still makes me cringe on their behalf.
I did however smile at this happy fellow who started the show in true Fenway Park 7th inning stretch fashion.
.
.
If you’re not a Red Sox fan?
Never mind.
.
.
This team was amazing. Perfectly matched and working completely in unison.
.
.
I may not like it…
.
.
But it’s hard not to be impressed with the strength of these magnificent creatures.
It’s fall… and in New England that means cooler temperatures, turning leaves and pumpkins.
And no town takes pumpkins more seriously than Damariscotta, a coastal village that devotes an entire week of events to the glorious orange gourd. There are parades, size contests, art contests, races, recipe challenges and even a regatta of giant floaters.
They like their pumpkins.
.
.
Every year we say we’re going to visit, and every year we don’t for some reason or another.
.
.
Which is a shame because this year my favorite bar in town has the best decorated pumpkin I’ve seen in a long time.
.
.
Imagine having a few too many and stumbling outside to come face to face with this guy.
😊
And speaking of bars…
.
.
A seasonal margarita that sounds damn near perfect for this time of year.
Moving on, I have a bone to pick with a few of my readers. You were joking about emotional support pickles for cats on my post the other day and while I tried to discourage the topic in fear of pickle retribution from my squirrelly algorithms… the concept has become reality.
.
.
Damn you.
.
.
Lord Dudley Mountcatten has his mice.
No kitty support pickles will ever be entering this house.
I know it’s a little soon after my last series of fair posts, but we hadn’t been to the biggest and best fair in Maine in six years and last week the husband said let’s go.
So we headed west to Fryeburg.
.
.
This was a weird year weather wise, with way too much rain late in the summer so I despaired of finding vibrant fall color.
.
.
Leaves were turning but in muted hues.
.
.
Of course it didn’t help the day we picked to go was gloomy, damp and overcast.
.
.
Still pretty, but not jaw dropping for autumn in Maine.
.
.
Pulling in to the fair grounds parking lot you pass rows and rows ( and rows and rows and rows) of travel trailers occupying every spare inch of ground.
.
.
It’s a virtual RV city and my idea of hell on earth, but to each their own.
Maine doesn’t have an official state fair but Fryeburg is the last of the season, as well as the biggest and the best. Paying our $15 per admission price, we entered the gate by the horses and just missed some live music.
.
.
The band wasn’t there, but the draft horses were and that’s even better.
.
.
Some of these fellas are unbelievably large. I tried taking a selfie behind this guy but he started to back up as I was focusing so I backed up as well. And quite quickly.
.
.
Magic Mike was beautiful…
.
.
As was this dappled grey I would have to name Snowflake.
.
.
For the most part they’re gentle giants but a weeks worth of people gawking and petting would make me want to kick something too.