2023 Wyoming County Fair

           And now it’s September.

          Only three months left in the year, then it’ll be 2024, but I bet you knew that.

          You wanna hear something crazy?

          I don’t know where the year has gone. Every week, after our visit, I print my letter blog to keep in a notebook. I have a lot of notebooks. For some years I needed two! But that’s because a two-inch ring binder didn’t cut the mustard.

          This year I have punched holes and put away exactly zero letters. Every time I shove a newly printed letter onto the stack I think, I’ve got to get those put away. Then the week starts and I never think about it again until the next printing. Now a job that would’ve taken a minute or two is gonna eat up a lot more time!

          >>>*<<<

          Although time is passing way too fast for this old woman (I really do wish it would slow down some) this is also our favorite time of the year. Maybe not the favorite favorite of all-time favorites, but it’s right up there.

          “What’s so special about it?” you ask.

          It’s Wyoming County Fair time!

          In years past we’ve seen more than we did this year. One of my favorite times at the fair was the year we took Momma. We spent the day and saw some shows. The best thing about the whole thing was Momma’s joy and delight. I did write about it. It only took me six months to complete and at more than eight thousand words, it’s technically a novelette. But go and look for it if you want. I published it March 19, 2015.

          The first and last days of the fair are days seniors get in free, so that’s the days we go. The gates open at ten o’clock so we left here around that time.

         I took some pictures on the way.

          A sand truck on the scale.

          “A hawk!” I exclaimed pointing to a big bird sitting on the wire. As we get closer, and I don’t know for sure, but I think it was just a crow.

          I shouldn’t say, “...just a crow.” Crows are fascinating critters.

          The brain of a crow, proportionally, is bigger than ours.

Older crow siblings help their parents raise newborn chicks.

Crows have funerals. The sight of a dead crow tends to attract a mob of a hundred or more live ones. During this ritual, the live crows almost never touch the dead one, which rules scavenging out as a motive. Some studies suggest that the mass gathering is part of a survival strategy: the birds are learning about threats and seem hesitant to revisit any spot where they’ve encountered a dead crow, even if food is plentiful there.

Crows have caused blackouts in Japan.

Crows have regional dialects.

Some crows can read traffic lights. In Japan, carrion crows use cars like oversized nutcrackers. The birds have learned to take walnuts over to road intersections, where they put them down onto the pavement. The crow then waits for a passing vehicle to smash the nut, after which it will swoop down and eat the delicious interior.

Crows can recognize your face—and hold a grudge.

And the last one I’ll share is a group of crows is called a murder.

Coming up on the fairgrounds I was surprised at how many cars were there already. 

          The first thing we did was go to the electric company tent and claim our credit and collect our food vouchers.

          My beautiful cousin Stacey works for Claverack and we spent time visiting with her. It was nice to catch up on her news.

          Claverack is putting in fiberoptic cables as part of the government's bid to get internet to the underserved parts of the country. We checked to see when it would be available for us and it won’t be for another year.

          Stacey was telling us that they’re having trouble hiring linemen. Yes, it’s a dangerous job, but they are well compensated for it.

          Inside the Claverack tent where the yearly co-op meeting would be held, was this handsome guy.

“His name is Willy Wirehand,” Stacey told me.

Our next stop was for our favorite foods. Italian sausage for Mike, pierogies for me. We passed this gal using a bag for a hat. It was hot and I was wishing I’d remembered to bring mine. It’s too bad she doesn’t know anyone who sells hats.

The ladies at one of the churches makes and sells the pierogies. I love them. They’re not fried, like Momma likes them, but they are oh so tender. You can get it with or without the onions and the butter they use is so good.

          “It’s Land O’ Lakes,” the gal told me when I asked.

          “It’s really good,” I told her.

          “At five twenty-nine a pound it’d better be good!” she exclaimed.

          “Holy cow!” I guess that’s why I don’t buy that brand. Besides the price, I don’t eat butter anymore. I only use it when I bake.

          “Why don’t you eat it?” you wanna know.

          It makes my stomach hurt. I think it’s my gallbladder but if I stay away from butter and all oils, or have just a little, it doesn’t bother me. I did have to pay for having these buttery pierogies — but it was worth it!

          The only other thing I really wanted was a Deluxe from Loch’s Maple Syrup stand. It’s ice cream in a waffle bowl, with their signature walnut topping, whipped cream, and a cherry.

          We’re heading to Loch’s stand, I’m looking around, people watching as well as looking at the wares, and not paying much attention, as will soon become apparent.

          Walking past a small stand, one I don’t remember from years past, the guy was sitting in a chair waiting for customers. I’m reading the board to see what he’s selling.

          “Cinnamon Roll Iced,” it read. “Nutty Turtle.” I look in the service window and see there’s a lady behind the counter.

          I like cinnamon rolls with icing, I think. Maybe I’ll help them out and get that instead of ice cream.

          I’m still debating with myself as we get halfway past.

          “Let’s stop here,” Mike said of the very next stand. I wasn’t much interested in his conversation with the ladies there, so I contemplated getting a cinnamon roll. I was thinking about talking to the guy when he got up and went to the window.

          I’m standing there waiting for Mike and craning my neck, trying to see the trays of cinnamon rolls. All I see are racks of syrup bottles.

          Then I notice a flag that says “CAFÉ.”

          My pea brain’s starting to piece all the clues together as my eyes find the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was a big flag on the corner that said “Iced Coffee” — and I’d missed it.

          The “iced” in Cinnamon Roll Iced is ice cubes and not icing.

          Onward, to Loch’s.

          “I could eat another Italian sausage,” my handsome mountain man says.

          “Let’s get it then,” I said and we hung a right at the next walkway. That’s where I met Philip. “Snakes!” I said.

          Mike was not at all pleased about that. He wrinkled his nose and said, “I don’t wanna see any snakes.” They give him nightmares.

          I went in and spent a good fifteen — twenty minutes asking all kinds of questions about his critters.

          Philip was very nice and I could tell that he really loved the reptiles and enjoyed telling people about them.

          He lost one of his big snakes in an accident at a fair not too long ago but didn’t want to elaborate. I could tell he was sad.

I thanked him for his time and took one of his business cards. He gave me permission to include him in this blog and you can look him up on Facebook. CFEP is their monogram and it stands for Card Family Exotic Pets. They’re out of Honesdale, PA.

I found Mike. He was just finishing his sandwich.

“Let’s go into the exhibit hall while we’re up here,” I suggested. We were closer to that than the ice cream stand.

At the corner I see a guy squatted down examining the front of a tractor. Under his arm I see the end of his beard. Since Mike’s beard is getting long, we notice how many other men have long beards, and just like any man, he compares size.

“That’s not a guy,” Mike says.

Then I look closer and what I thought was beard was actually the end of her long hair. “Oh. It’s not, is it?”

Just outside the exhibit hall I see a lady in my blouse! Well, not my blouse but one just like mine.

“I have the same blouse,” I told the young man with her.

“It’s one of her favorites,” he said.

“What?” she said.

“I said you have on a lovely blouse,” I told her.

She smiled. “Thank you!”

“It never hurts to be kind,” I told Mike.

          Some things you can count on. Like the first vendor inside the exhibit hall is always a handmade jewelry booth, at least for as long as I’ve been coming to the fair. I don’t even browse. Don’t need it, don’t want it.

          The second one is always a couple of ladies selling Welsh Cookies. I tried them once. Don’t like ‘em, don’t want ‘em.

          Third was a guy standing there waiting for customers interested in tanks.

          “Let’s talk to him,” I suggested. He looked like he needed someone to talk to.

          I learned a lot about tanks and Dean was passionate about his work. He knew his stuff and I learned how they’re made, who uses them, and what they use them for.

“Bomb shelters?” I asked.

“We do have one that people turn into shelters,” he said. “You have to be prepared. You never know what’s gonna happen.”

“I’m not a prepper,” I said. “And I know what’s gonna happen... are you a Christian?” something I’ve never asked a stranger before.

“I am,” Dean said.

“Then we both know the rapture will happen before the tribulation.” Then I remembered that some people believe the rapture will happen at mid-point and some at the end of the tribulation. “That makes me a pre-trib believer,” I clarified.

And that brings a thought to mind. If millions of people disappear all at once and they tell you it was extra-terrestrials, don’t believe them. And I hope one of youse will come and take care of my critters for me. It would be sad to think no one would be here to take care of them.

Dean’s passion kicked up a couple of notches when he started talking about two of his other businesses. One is Roll Call, a gun dealer, training, and indoor range.

“We actually have a spot out there,” he said, indicating the fairgrounds.

The other one is called Inert Products (they’re both on Facebook).

          “What do you do there?” I asked.

          “We train law enforcement and members of the military on equipment used to detect bombs and IEDs (improvised explosive devices). So many members of the military came back and their biggest complaint was that they weren’t trained on any of that stuff,” Dean told me.

          I looked around for Mike, thinking he’d be interested in Dean’s other businesses even if he didn’t care about tanks, and I see him at the next booth talking to a pretty young gal. 

          “He’d rather talk to pretty girls,” I told Dean.

          “She is prettier than me,” he said.

          “That’s a matter of opinion,” I said. I waved and went to join Mike. His back was starting to bother him.

          “Why didn’t you get a scooter?” I begged him to.

          “I don’t wanna spend the money.”

          Always a convenient excuse when you don’t wanna listen to your wife.

          On the way out of the exhibit hall I notice a fence made with steel wheels. I don’t remember it being there before but it’s something I like.

          Loch’s Maple Syrup stand is close to the entrance of the fair grounds and there’s a couple of benches there.

          “I’ll wait here for you,” Mike said, taking a seat.

          I stood in line and waited as the people ahead of me were getting milkshakes. When it was my turn and I asked for the Deluxe, she said, “I’m sorry. We’re having a problem with the electric so I don’t have any waffle bowls.”

          I heard that last year, too. Only last year they pulled one from the freezer and I got my Deluxe anyway. I almost asked if there wasn’t one hanging around in a freezer someplace but decided just to get something else. The next thing on the menu, below the Deluxe, for a dollar less, was ice cream with walnut topping. It didn’t seem equitable. A waffle bowl, whipped cream, and a cherry for a buck more‽ I almost asked for whipped cream thinking she’d toss it in for my inconvenience. Then I didn’t. I don’t need the extra calories anyway, I consoled myself, and walked away eating my ice cream.

          I sat down on the bench beside Mike. “Wanna a bite?”

“No.” He’s been really good about staying off sugar. He’d been people watching and told me about people he’d seen. Then, since his back couldn’t take any more walking, we left.

>>>*<<<

          We made a second trip up to the neighbors for a few more stones to finish our walkway.

A little color is starting to show in the trees.

          The resident hawk took flight, squawking his protest at our invasion to his hunting grounds.

          An old hunting blind. 

          We took a hammer and chisel with us so Mike could separate some of the bigger slabs of stone into thinner squares.

          This handsome guy landed on the folded half of the golf cart windshield.

          “I know what he is!” I told Mike. “He’s a Robber Fly.”

          I snapped a picture before he flew away.

           I needn't’ve worried though. He was very patient and sat for a whole series of photos.

Once you see one of these guys, you don’t forget. Their shape is unique. They have a narrow abdomen and barrel chest, large-faceted eyes and a moustache of bristles. These guys can be up to three inches long and that makes them one of the largest flies. The robber fly is a predator of almost all flying insects. Their long legs are adapted to capture prey in flight and to hold it while eating.

          This pale green guy is a Tree Cricket also called Pale Bush Cricket. True to their name, they live in trees and bushes and not on the ground. They eat aphids but can damage a branch when they lay their eggs.

           “I know what that is,” I told Mike as we drove past. “Stinging Nettle.” Get stung and you won’t soon forget what it looks like either.

The stinging hairs of the leaves and stems have tips that break off when touched, revealing needlelike tubes that pierce the skin and inject a mixture of chemicals that cause an itchy, burning rash that can last up to twelve hours! This keeps most large herbivores from eating it but it’s an important food for several butterfly species.

Once dried, the plant can be used as livestock feed, and heating or cooking the fresh young leaves renders them safe for consumption.

Stinging Nettle has been used as a source of fibers for textiles and is sometimes used in cosmetics.

It also has a long history of use as a medicinal herb and is still used in folk medicine for a wide array of disorders, though there is limited clinical evidence supporting its efficacy. The rootstock is used as a diuretic and as an herbal treatment for enlarged prostate and other urinary disorders. Tea made from the leaves has been used to treat hay fever, diabetes, gout, and arthritis. Fresh stinging leaves are sometimes applied to arthritic joints in a process known as urtification, which is said to stimulate blood flow. (That just means they let it sting you!) Topical creams have also been developed for joint pain and various skin ailments, including eczema and dandruff.

          Something else I saw in the field is this plant. It’s Horse Nettle. It’s not a true nettle, it’s in the nightshade family. All parts of the plant, including its tomato-like fruit, are poisonous to us. There are lots of bugs that feed on it and the fruits are eaten by a variety of animals, including ring-necked pheasant, bobwhite, wild turkey, and striped skunk.

          I know this one, too. There’s a cricket and the other guy is a young stinkbug. He’ll look different when he’s all grown up.

          The white berries of this next one had me thinking in years past that it was Doll’s-eye. The secret to identifying this one is in the leaves. Doll’s-eye leaves don’t look like this.

          “So what is it?” I know you wanna know.

          This is another dogwood. It’s called Gray Dogwood. Other names for it are Swamp Dogwood and Stiff Dogwood.

          Over 98 species of birds, including flicker, tanager, woodpeckers, and catbird are attracted to this plant for its fruit and use as a shelter and a nesting site. It’s also a forage plant for white-tailed deer.

          My sole reason for this walkabout was to collect Jewelweed, also called Touch-me-nots.

          We have a problem with fleas. Both dogs have commercial-grade flea and tick repellent on them. Raini has a Seresto collar and Bondi is on K9 Advantix II. In order for some flea meds to work, the flea has to bite them to be poisoned. But once bitten, the bites become red and itchy. Both dogs scratch a lot.

          At night, sitting in our TV-watching-before-bed recliner, I comb them for fleas and crush the little blood suckers between my thumbnails. They must have a smell because Raini becomes obsessed with my thumbnails after I’ve crushed a couple.

          It seems like commercial stuff just doesn’t work as well as it used to. Do you think fleas are building up a tolerance to it?

          We are so tired of all the scratching. In order to try and help, I’ve decided to go to holistic or folk medicine. I write about it all the time. Why not try it? I decided to make a tincture with Jewelweed. That’s what’s in the jar in the background of this picture between my canisters.

         What I did was put chopped up Jewelweed in a jar with a little water and filled it the rest of the way with vinegar. I would’ve used all vinegar but didn’t think of it until I’d already crushed some of the leaves and stems in the water. I didn’t want to lose the juice of the Jewelweed so I didn’t want to just dump the water. I know both Jewelweed and vinegar are good itch relievers. Later I learned it’s okay for the water to be in there so it doesn’t ‘burn’ their skin. I left it in the jar for two weeks, shaking it a couple of times a day. I strained it and added a few drops of lavender to it, another good topical for skin and it smells good. Then I washed out an old mustard bottle and filled it with Jewel Juice. I put it on the dogs and let it sink to their skin, then gave them a good rub. They don’t like being doused but they did enjoy the rubdown.

          The only problem? It doesn’t last more than a few hours.

          Combing Bondi one evening, I see her poor little belly is red with the welts of flea bites. I thought maybe a balm might work better in that area. Raini and I went out and gathered another bucket of Jewelweed. I washed it and hung it out to dry. Then I chopped it up and put it in an old peanut butter jar and covered it with coconut oil. The jar went into a bath on the stove where it would sit on a simmer for three hours.

          Crack! went the jar.

          Uh-oh. I worried that it might not be a good thing to sit right on the bottom of the pan. Before I could get back to the stove, the jar was talking to me again. Pop-crack! he said. I lifted him from the water and he was bottomless. I lost all the oil into the water. I went forward with my balm anyway, carefully putting it into a bowl, adding more oil, and this time an old canning jar ring into the pot before I put the bowl in.

          Three hours later I strained it and put it into tins to set up.

          It cracks me up.

          “What does?” you ask.

          The lady in the video I watched on You Tube used liquid olive oil then, after it was done, added wax to set it.

          The heck with that! I thought. Coconut oil is good for their skin plus returns to a solid at room temperature. I didn’t know if it would work or not but as you can see, it worked beautifully.

          I pulled Bondi into my lap, dipped my fingers in the balm and greased her red tummy. After the third or fourth dip, I noticed an orange liquid seeping through the balm to my finger indents. I’m thinking it’s from the flowers. Next time, I’ll pull the flowers before I make it.

          The next morning all of Bondi’s red spots were gone. But once again, it wears off after a couple of hours.

          Nonetheless, it was fun to make this for them.

>>>*<<<

          Our church is having a new well drilled. Mike took me up so I could take pictures for the church bulletin board.

       I thought all the gadgetry on the truck was interesting.

       Even more interesting was the runoff. “It looks like an aerial photo to me!” I wrote on this one before I put it on the board. 

          Mike and Pastor Jay were talking. We walked around to the other side of the church so we could hear above the noise of the drilling. In a doorway I see this beauty. A Garden spider trussing up her dinner.

          “Why is it there?” Pastor Jay wondered aloud.

          Later, when I had a chance to think about it (I’m not a fast thinker) I realized it’s a good place to be. The security light attracts all kinds of delicious bugs to her web.

>>>*<<<

          Lastly, this week, I’ll tell you about my thorn in the flesh, aka pain in my a**! The growth board. After spending hours designing and redesigning for this lady, she’s decided she doesn’t want anything on it other than the little girl’s name. I suggested maybe two little unobtrusive flowers, a Lily of the Valley, the girl’s birth month flower, and a Poppy because that’s what she calls her grandfather, who’s buying the board for her, which is what she originally wanted.

          “I’ll think about it and get back to you,” she said. That was over a week ago now and she hasn’t.

          In the meantime, I’m working on lines. It’s hard getting them straight and evenly thick.

          “Use painters’ tape,” you say.

          I tried. I got bleed under.

          So, I just got my liner brush and took my time. I still needed to touch it up so I got the white paint out. It didn’t look the same but I thought that was because it was wet.

          Uh-uh.

          After it dried it still looked different. That’s when I remembered I’d used a different white. I got it out and went over the spots. It looked different, but again, I thought it was because it was wet.

          Uh-uh.

          After it dried it was still different! Then I smacked myself in the head and called myself a dummy. I had so much board to cover in white, I’d gone to the garage and gotten a gallon of Mike’s white paint. Who knew there were so many shades of white‽

          Now I’ve decided I’m gonna do it the way I want and if she doesn’t like it, she can paint over it. Speaking of over it, I’m over trying to please her.      

          Let’s call this one done!