It is The Fair for us. In capitals. Each year our stay gets just a bit longer (this year five days were decidedly not long enough), we start to find out more about where we each fit into the organized chaos of making the fair happen, we see old friends and meet new ones, we work and play and usually at some point we each cry (some of us more than others, ahem*).
This fair, which for some is a day to come and check out some farm animals and eat wood-fired pizza al fresco has become for us something different entirely. It is our annual touchstone. The place where we go once a year to step out of our life at home…see how we each have changed and grown…celebrate and reflect on what we’ve sown and harvested in the past year and think about what we want to dig into the soils for the year to come. Because long before you plant, you must till and nourish, and that is what this fair does to our family. It helps us to dig the good stuff in deep.
Also, we have loads and loads of fun.
* Why I am brought to tears every year by dusty families sliding down a hill on old pizza boxes and children on parade dressed up as vegetables and making a huge racket is a mystery. But, I know I’m not alone.
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