Even though air travel isn’t half as much fun as it used to be.
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It’s odd how much I miss those rubber chicken dinners now that all you get is a packet of dry as toast cookies.
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But while the views out the window can be spectacular, I do prefer driving when it comes to setting your own schedule and stopping at will for local points of interest. Some of the best things we’ve found and seen have been well off the beaten path.
Cruise ships? Never. Floating germ factories crammed full of people with whom I don’t want to converse no less vacation.
Trains? Like them for day trips but no cramped overnight bunks and minuscule bathrooms for this chicka.
Before I get down and dirty with all the things we saw at the Fryeburg Fair let me point out a few things we didn’t see.
We didn’t see the agricultural expo or the natural resources building ….
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Because my husband met a man who knew our farming neighbor and had to talk to him for 37 minutes.
We didn’t see the craft show or tour the fiber arts building…
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Because my husband struck up a 24 minute conversation with this nice volunteer who was rebuilding the motor on a vintage harrow.
And we didn’t see the rabbits, goats, llamas or chickens….
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Because my husband met a fellow Marine who was stationed in Beirut, Lebanon during the same awful time. It was the ‘83 bombing that killed 241 servicemen, the largest loss of Marines in a single day since the Battle of Iwo Jima. This was a sad conversation and one I didn’t interrupt… but still.
We went to dinner with my husband’s niece and her fellow last week. She’s finally starting to get over her mothers death and that called for a drink… or 12… so we took them to my favorite cocktail destination The Blind Pig.
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I started with a pear Mojito and the most delicious mushroom Arancini I’ve ever had.
A few cocktails in, niece’s significant other got curious about what appeared to be breakfast in a glass.
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The girls were disgusted, the bartender was surprised and kept asking, “Are you sure?”….but the husband egged him on (I’m groaning at that one myself) and said he’d pay for it … so a bacon and eggs was ordered.
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Blech.
🤢
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The women refused to try it but the guys polished it off… though I can’t say they enjoyed it.
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.
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This was a weird year weather wise, with way too much rain late in the summer so I despaired of finding vibrant fall color.
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Leaves were turning but in muted hues.
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Of course it didn’t help the day we picked to go was gloomy, damp and overcast.
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Still pretty, but not jaw dropping for autumn in Maine.
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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.
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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.
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The band wasn’t there, but the draft horses were and that’s even better.
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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.
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Magic Mike was beautiful…
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As was this dappled grey I would have to name Snowflake.
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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.
My husband loves to talk. To anyone. At any time. Even if he’s paying them to work.
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This happened yesterday when the man we hire to bush hog our field every autumn showed up with his tractor.
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That’s the tractor under the arrow at the bottom of the hill. It was turned off and standing still because my husband went out to talk to him halfway through the mowing.
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Mowed field on the right. Unmowed on the left.
The worst part? My husband talked to the man for so long he wasn’t able to finish and we were left with a big patch of untouched field.
No telling when he’ll be able to come back and complete the job .
Things like this make me wish I could duct tape my husband to a chair.
River's world..... 