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Fryeburg Fair, part four… disappointing dough and a show.

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I’m pleased to report the giant lemon lemonade stand was operational at the Fryeburg Fair …

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And though it cost a ridiculous $8 per ice laden glass, I purchased one…

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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…

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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.

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If you’re not a Red Sox fan?

Never mind.

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This team was amazing. Perfectly matched and working completely in unison.

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I may not like it…

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But it’s hard not to be impressed with the strength of these magnificent creatures.

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Miscellaneous pumpkin and pickle missives.

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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.

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Every year we say we’re going to visit, and every year we don’t for some reason or another.

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Which is a shame because this year my favorite bar in town has the best decorated pumpkin I’ve seen in a long time.

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Imagine having a few too many and stumbling outside to come face to face with this guy.

😊

And speaking of bars…

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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.

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Damn you.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has his mice.

No kitty support pickles will ever be entering this house.

🥴

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Let’s play.

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Because it hurts less than having a tooth pulled.

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For long distances I’m going with plane.

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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.

How about you?

What’s your preferred method of travel…

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The biggest and the best.

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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.

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The definition of chill?

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Mr. Chunk.

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He really can’t help himself.

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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.

With a gag in his mouth.

🤣

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Of fog and wooly bears.

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We had a really warm week in Maine with temps hitting the lower 80’s. Not my idea of fall, but lots of people were thrilled summer is still hanging on.

With cool nights and warm days comes fog.

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So much fog the deer who usually only show up at dusk are here at dawn.

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This next picture is of a poor starling who smashed into our living room picture window.

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He was okay and eventually flew away after recovering from the shock. But he sure drove our cat crazy.

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Yes, people here still believe caterpillars can predict the weather.

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Looks like a mild winter to me.

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Random ramblings.

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Here’s a drone shot of a section of our farming neighbor’s property. It was so pretty I thought I’d share.

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I’m in awe of all those perfectly aligned weeded garden beds.

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In case you ever wondered what type of finish you should be using.

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A local Maine man who did well for himself and ended up owning half his town’s businesses just implemented this program. Free food for school age children. Proof positive there are still good people in this world.

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As you know, once we install new living room floors I’ll be shopping for new furniture. And while the husband is fine with replacing the couches, armchairs and coffee tables he started mumbling that we really didn’t need to update the dining room table and chairs we’ve had for almost 40 years.

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I beg to differ.

🤣

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A new medical study has revealed women who have frequent and long lasting hot flashes… read, me… are at a greater risk for heart disease and stroke. Women who have frequent night sweats… read, me… are at a greater risk for dementia.

So that’s it.

I’m doomed.

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A mantis mystery.

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On a walk with Lord Dudley Mountcatten the other day I noticed he found something in front of the garage.

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Batting it this way and that, I stepped in to rescue the poor praying mantis he was harassing and carried it to my flower garden.

Our yard used to be full of these delightful insects (Females bite the males heads off after mating. What’s not to love?) but in the past few years we’ve seen their number drastically decline.

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And while I’m used to the green version, this mantis was completely brown.

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So I’m not sure if it was a different species…

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Or just going through some sort of molt.

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Either way, I was pleased with the rescue.

His Lordship on the other hand, was not.

P.S…. did a little research on the mating ritual of the mantis and have to share.

Males of some mantid species mate more effectively when decapitated. Why? A nerve center in the male’s head inhibits mating until a female is clasped. If this nerve is removed, such as when the female bites off the male’s head, all control is lost and the result is repeated copulation.

So there is a reason….

🤣

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I know I’m going to pay for this…

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Our farming neighbors went away for a few nights recently and asked us to watch their wonderful dog Peaches.

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She’s the quintessential lovable mixed breed and we’ve loved her since she was a hurricane rescue 13 years ago.

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Unfortunately, Lord Dudley Mountcatten did not share our enthusiasm for a house guest.

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Peaches is extremely mellow and very used to cats. She doesn’t chase or pay the least bit of attention to them.. but His Lordship still couldn’t figure out why this creature was in his house.

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Bad timing there. Lord Dudley was so close… and then someone knocked on the door.

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It’s a credit to Peaches temperament that our cat would even be in the same room.

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Of course the fact that she spent a good deal of her time with us sleeping might have had something to do with that.

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But I still think I’m going to pay a price for disturbing His Royal Highness’s routine.

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😉

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