Agricultural fairs have long stopped being what they should be. Families reuniting. Fathers relaxing with their children while mothers rest without. LOCAL performers and marching bands surrounded by local merchants and entrepreneurs. Ridiculous contests . In an era where some agricultural fairs won't allow dogs on their grounds the Great Killingly Tomato Festival is a refreshing hint at the origins of the crowded overpriced carnivals that pretend to be local today.
click to enlarge any pic Sometimes I lament the picture I did not take. Such was the case when we journeyed out of New Orleans for a swamp stomp. This realization did not happen until I had been home for about a week. To avoid being eaten by gators, a tour by Pearl River Eco Tours was agreed upon. We had enough people going to fill two cars, me following my father in law. We had discussed the directions and took off for a forty five minute trip. Things went awry when my father in law took a very early exit onto route 90, which was mostly bypassed by the directions given. I followed, thinking his GPS might be giving him better directions. They weren't. As my passengers started to stress about the time it was taking, my eyes began to wander. Some hawks, kites, falcons, and buzzards wanted the camera to come out. But we were on a schedule. Arriving at the site, it was decided that I would ride in the other car to take the long way back for photos. Tha...
I'm a huge fan of Christmas. I'm not a fan of huge Christmases. I've enough years that I'm no longer offended by the superstitions of religion and tradition the surround the holiday. Indeed, I'm as likely to explain the importance of those legends as I am to point out they are logically refutable. I can now see the stories without literally believing in fantasy worlds. The pageantry that surrounds Christmas still escapes me, though. My mother trained me to expect the "big gift" to be the last one presented, sometimes finding it as I climbed in my bed. Thankfully this doesn't happen to such an extreme, so I'm not teetering on edge all Christmas. There were years when my wife and my mother seemed to be in competition. The tree's circumference of gifts rivaled its height. Many of those Christmases were marred with bored (or scowling) faces that were required to open more gifts, with no time left to play with them. It was pronounced if a chil...
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