I’m feeling awfully autumnal today (in the crunchy leaf/hot spiced cider kinda way, not the Phase Of Life way- please don’t feel the need to send seasonal affective disorder lamps), so I’m posting one of my favorite childhood pix.
Every Fall, my family would go to the Cummington Fair with some family friends- it was the countriest of fairs. I adored every second of it. That’s me, by the way, in the Texas Tuxedo. That was the rule (to which my older sister and I held strongly): You HAD to look like you belonged in the country. Or on a farm or something. (Even though travelling from our hometown of Pittsfield, Massachusetts to Cummington, Massachusetts wasn’t exactly your classic City Mouse/Country Mouse tale.)
So I wore jeans and a denim shirt. Insisted upon braids. Even found a leather belt to cinch my improbably high jeans to my nine year-old waist.
In this pic I’m clutching a family friend, and on his other side is one of my younger sisters. She looks game. (The good thing about Chel is, she’s always game. I should’ve had that printed on a onesie for her.) She also looks good in her country overalls.
Pretty sure this was the year I got to see the pig races. And the tractor pulls. Pet a few bunnies. Beg my parents for one. (Pout.) Eat an unwise amount of corndogs. And cheerfully fall asleep on the drive home, waking to find a denim pattern etched into the side of my face.
All autumn events are still measured by this annual shindig.
Even though I still haven’t found anyone who’ll buy me that lop-eared bunny.
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