I can honestly say I can’t think of anything I look forward to more than the local county fair. A REAL county fair. The state fair is not a county fair. Period.
The county fair I grew up with is, in my mind, amazing. People come from all over to go to this little county fair. After marrying and having kids, we have always tried our hardest to make the trip back home to go to the fair. The last couple of years we either couldn’t afford the trip, school had already started, or some other reason came up. Last year we did make it. Jason and I were both a little disappointed. Ok, a lot. It seemed very commercial. Like the State fair. Growing up I knew a load of people who entered their stuff. Animals, crafts, plants, historical nick-knacks, and on and on. School didn’t even start until the fair was over because of the lack of attendance during the fair week. It dawned on me during the long drive home, that I didn’t know any of the people who had exhibits entered anymore. I didn’t admit any of this to anyone at the time, but it made me a little sad. This 4th of July we went back to my hometown for their grand celebration. Again it is know for being a great event. It’s the one thing our small town can boast. People come from all over to attend our event. We were so very disappointed. It was almost tragic. We had very little fun. Yes, it was great to see and spend so much time with our family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, Nana and Papa. It was a great time of family fun. But in the back of my mind the weird sad feeling was still there. What were all my friends doing today? Did they have fun at the Rally we always attend? What memories did we miss out on. Whose house was everyone gathering at this year? I wished I was home. OH MY WORD! What thought just passed though my head? Home? Wasn’t I home? That’s when it hit. With a rush of sadness I can’t describe, and an excitement that matched it, I realized my hometown was no longer ‘home’. It’s the place in all my childhood memories, and the location of my parents house, but it is not my home. My home was 150 miles from where I was spending my 4th of July. Once we were back home from our vacation I confided in Jason,my little secret. He was less than surprised. Turns out he had know for a while. I can’t hide anything from that man. All the excuses and reasons on why we don’t make our monthly trip to Nana and Papa’s house anymore. Now it’s more like 2 times a year, maybe more. As the fair season comes closer it came as no surprise to either one of us when we decided that we would not be going to my hometown fair. There are more than a few reasons, but a big one is that we have a perfectly lovely fair right here at home. Jason entered a photo last year and won third place. We were all so very proud of him. The boys were just dying to enter this year. Fred entered a piece of artwork he had made at school. (1st Place in class)
The county fair my kids are growing up with is, in my mind, amazing.
I don’t want my kids to have my memories. Those are mine. They need their own.