We had a long but lovely fair day yesterday. I could have done without trying to find dinner at the fair with tens of thousands of other hot, sweaty people, many of whom had had, sweaty, tired children like mine — but I can highly recommend the Rachel sandwich at Schumacher’s all the same. (Right across from Sweet Martha’s cookies, which I think is the highest grossing booth at the fair. Mmmm . . . bucket of cookies . . . )
We rode more rides and walked through the DNR ecosystems of Minnesota display. Honestly, I’m not sure what else we did, but it seems we did it for hours. Oh, we hit the “dairy barn” — which is not the actual dairy barn, but the place where you can buy your MSF dairy treats — and watched Princess Kay of the Milky Way posing for her butter sculpture before getting cones and malts.
We had such nice night at Prairie Home Companion. Violet really wanted to go, so we did. She laughed very loudly at jokes about loons protecting the Canadian border against renegade pharmaceutical smugglers and clapped enthusiastically. The winners of the fiddle contest (for their division) were on — 2 adorable 13-year-old girls, who each played a piece in addition to providing the fiddle for the Powdermilk Biscuits song. They were terrific — I especially loved the little girl with green glasses. Just as cute as can be and played those fiddles like they were set on fast forward. Violet was pretty sleepy by the time we were an hour into the show, and she alternately snuggled up against me and her dad. It was dark and cool by then, and the lights from the fair rides were off to the side of the grandstand. It was one of those moments where you say, “God, I love this,” and you concentrate really hard so that you will somehow imprint the feeling into your bones, for when you’re older and your child is gone, or when you’re tired and angry and wondering how you ever got into this family mess.
Violet in particular loves the PHC songs, and I think Garrison Keillor — well, I think he’s just swell and I totally don’t get the people who think he trades in mocking Midwesterners and (especially) Christians. How tone deaf can you be? But I digress. We love his little rhymes — who else rhymes “you’ve” with “Louvre”? how many people do you know who can make the rhyme itself the joke? — so I got a fair t-shirt that has a couple verses of this song on the back.
You had a bratwurst and corn on the cob
A hot fudge sundae and a shishkebob
You got a bucket of cheese curds in your hand
And yet you’re stopping at the hot dog stand.
If you don’t want to get in trouble (x3)
You better leave that corn dog alone
When I married you I had no idea
You’d sell your soul for a beef tortilla
I’m leaving you now. That’s it. I’m done.
If you fall down, call 9-1-1.
You had a taco four inches thick
And a deep fried walleye on a stick
You better be careful with that pronto pup
‘Cause what goes down might come back up
You had the onion rings and for desserts
A caramel apple and more cheese curds
I see the swine barn right over here
I might put you in a pen with a tag on your ear.