Tomorrow is State Fair day at work. We get 1/2 a day off, a bus ticket, an admission ticket, and some $$$ to spend. This is one of my favorite days at work — it’s like when we had the Indoor Picnic in grade school. Sometime in February we didn’t go home for lunch (we used to do that every day) — we stayed and had a hot dog, potato chips, milk (which I didn’t drink because I know it came from) and an Eskimo Pie. Then we’d go to the gym and watch a movie. It was one of the best day at school.
I can’t wait to go to the Creative Arts Building and see the BLUE RIBBON winning three person chessboard that my nephew Brett made (as seen here). Did you see the BLUE RIBBON part? Not that I’m an overly proud aunt but BLUE RIBBON. I’m also looking forward to a snow cone and corn on the cob.
If you are wondering why we have a State Fair day at work … it’s all my fault. A number of years ago (probably 5 or 6) the MTC had a contest for companies that had a Metro Pass program. You wrote a composition why your company should get a free bus to the fair and you would get the bus and admission tickets. Well, I wrote the winning poem:
WHAT? A half day at the state fair,
Away from the computer glare?
Stop all of our mousely clicks,
For something greasy on a stick?
Our cubicles to leave behind?
A vacation from the daily grind?
No more memos to discuss?
And we get our own big bus?
So what would we do if we win?
I’m not sure where to begin…
There’s Sweet Martha with her cookie jar,
Horticulture, arts, and international bizarre,
And heads of butter, oh how absurd,
Let’s not forget to get cheese curds.
You just can’t think about your job,
While eating sweet corn-on-the-cob
See horses, cows, chickens, and hogs,
We can’t forget a foot long dog.
Go to the booths and see some stars,
And get some deep fried candy bars,
Toss some balls; win a prize,
Eat a cup of hot French fries,
Head over to Machinery Hill,
Perhaps a ride atYe Olde Mill.
Forget about our budget cuts,
Have some more mini-donuts,
Let ‘em guess what we weigh,
As we head on down to the Midway.
Quilts and sweaters and fruit that’s canned,
Buy a Veg-O-Matic at the Fair’s Grandstand.
No worrying ‘bout a 401K
Unless, of course, it’s Senior Day.
A ride up on the old space tower,
Lots to do in just six hours,
Milk shakes, ice cream, lemonade,
All this fun and we still get paid.
I hope we’re the group that you pick,
‘Cause we need some fun … on a stick.
I’m like another Emily Dickenson or Robert Frost or Rod McKuen.
In case you haven’t see this photo — the in thing with babies today is to take a picture of them in an outfit that says “1 month” “2 months” etc. so I thought for my birthday I’d follow the trend. 696 months is a lot of months.
I’m heading to the fair this week. Mostly to see my nephew Brett’s BLUE RIBBON entry of a handmade 3-person chessboard. It is on display at the Creative Arts Building. I’m very proud of him. I’ll post some pictures next time so you can see how cool it is.
Been using my CPAP machine lately. And NO it has nothing to do with a PAP test — if it does I’m not using it correctly. It does really help me sleep better and I’m not so tired during the day. It still is a pain in the ass to use and I would rather not have it but it’s better than sleeping with a goat — which has nothing to do with sleep apnea but I have a feeling in some countries if you had sleep apnea they would tell you that sleeping with a goat would cure you.
Well on that goat note I think I’ll bail. Have a happy happy Monday.
Yep, it’s Minnesota State Fair time when people gather to eat junk, walk around aimlessly, and eat more junk. Each year my company gives us 1/2 day off and a ticket to the fair, plus a little spending money. They started when we won a contest with the MTC for a poem I submitted. We got 50 tickets to the fair and our own bus. They’ve continued the tradition since then.
Last year I went to the fair to go to the Randy Travis concert. I went on my own because I didn’t know anyone who was as wild about Randy as I am (I now know Peter is as wild about Randy as I am). So I was eating junk and walking around aimlessly when four guys who were probably around 21 and drinking beer started to make fun of me and my size. After so many years of being subjected to that I was kind of use to it so I just kept going but these guys decided to follow me. They were making oinking noises and saying “look out here comes a heffer.” I didn’t think it was worth pointing out that a heffer is a cow and cows don’t oink. Well this continued for quite a while. I finally asked them to stop and leave me alone and it got worse. After about 15 minutes of this I was so upset I turned and went home. Never saw Randy. It was such a horrible time.
So I can’t decide if I want to go back to the fair. I know if I don’t go those a-holes win. I’ll have to think about that one. I’m scheduled to go next Thursday afternoon so I have a week to ponder the decision. Stand by … well don’t just stand there until next Thursday unless you have nothing else to do.
Now that the Minnesota State Fair is almost here the cliche you’ll hear most often is “I can’t believe summer is almost over” and it will be accompanied by a rather sad face. I’ve learned not to reply with what’s in my heart but rather to nod and smile and say “It sure goes fast.” What I want to say is “Thank God it’s almost over.”
I really don’t care much for summer. At least not as an adult. When you’re a kid it’s great because you don’t have school and you get to pretty much goof off for three months. My favorite part of summer was the four weeks I’d spend at camp. I went to Lyman Lodge out on Lake Minnetonka. It’s not there anymore — the YWCA sold it and now there are mini-mansions where there use to be cabins. I know those four weeks at camp were also my mom’s favorite four weeks of the summer. It meant four weeks without being afraid every time the phone rang it would be a neighbor saying “Do you know what Mary is up to now?” I think the worse call she got along those lines were when my friend Debbie and I found my dad’s stash of condoms in his nightstand and at first we thought it was candy but when we opened one up we realized, of course, it was a balloon. So we blew them up, tied a string around them, and I walked around the block yelling “Balloons for sale; balloons for sale.” You can only imagine the joy my mother felt as a parent to pick up the phone and hear “Do you know that Mary is walking around the neighborhood with rubbers on a string?”