high living at the county fair

Maybe it’s because I’ve been so overwhelmed with the adult world.

Or perhaps it’s because my recent return to journaling has made me incredibly nostalgic…

Whatever the reason, I can confidently say that today is one of my favorite days of the year.

It’s the opening day of the county fair.

Why do I love the fair?

Because I can see it from the front yard of our new house.

Because I can talk to people who know chickens. And Jersey cows. Which is important, because we will someday have chickens, and a Jersey cow. And it’s never too early to start preparing.

Because I can disappear for hours at a time in the horse barn, fantasizing about my return to riding. Admittedly, I struggle with jealousy as I watch little kids prepare their horses for show. I hope they know how incredibly blessed they are. They say memories are most closely tied to your sense of smell; the smell of a horse barn moves me like nothing else.

Because I can spin myself nauseous on the craziest of rides.

Because of funnel cakes.

And because of cotton candy, my favorite food in the whole wide world. Look at this fatty – he’s with me.

Don't take my word for it;  take a trip down memory lane and listen to this sassy goose.

It’s refreshing to spend time with ‘normal’ people. By normal, I mean salt of the earth. And by salt of the earth, I mean people who appreciate honest living and simple pleasures (I’m not counting the completely different type of ‘earthy’ people found at the DMV and dog fights…). The wealth and sterility of the suburbs can be mind-numbingly exhausting. Give me greasy food and manure to cleanse the palate from Escalades, 2.3 kids and Jimmy Choo’s.

All this to say: After 3 years of St. Charles living, I’m happy to report that there are indeed places to find anti-suburban activity. They’ve been difficult to find, but so totally worth the effort.

And for the record, I’m not saying I’d turn down a pair of Jimmy Choo’s….

B