Okay, I got misted, but that’s okay

It was chilly, very chilly, and raining on and off this morning . . . and the Apple Festival opened. I was sitting here all snug with warm feet and I thought, “Well, if I’m going to be alive, let’s be alive.” And so Der Bingle and I walked over to the fairgrounds; I wore a camisole, a turtleneck, a heavy hooded sweatshirt and tied a lined windbreaker around my waist. It spit rain and it misted but we made it over in pretty good shape. Of course, there were no lines for anything, so I filled up my Bayou Billy cup from previous AF’s with peach-flavored soda and then got a buffalo burger.

One of the men waiting on us looked familiar and so I said, “I think I know you,” and he replied his name was Mike Kramer. I was quiet for a moment and then put it all together and realized he was Judge Kramer of whom I have a very high opinion. He looked different I guess in a sweatshirt than in a black robe. Actually, he is not what you would call a handsome man at all. I interviewed him once for an article and when I first sat down it occurred to me right off the bat that he wasn’t handsome. I’m sorry but that’s the way it is; the funny thing is I rarely notice people’s looks unless they are strikingly attractive or, forgive me Sydney, real dogs . . . and he’s not in the “dog” category.

He’s just a very friendly, polite, intelligent and kind man . . . and I’ll take that kind of “just” anytime.

Munching my buffalo burger and sipping my peach soda, I headed down the fairground lane with Der Bingle. He was doing the same, but right across from the Merchant’s Building, he tried to breathe a chunk of buffalo burger and choked. Momentarily. Then bits of burger flew out of his mouth and hes was just breathing and coughing. One of the thoughts that ran through my mind was to be glad the festival was not crowded because it would be easier for people to spot the screaming short woman calling for the EMS. As I said, though, he unchoked himself and just coughed for awhile and then off and on for a while.

We went into the Settler’s Roost (Swine Barn) and sat on bales of straw for 15 minutes while a group which shall remain unnamed warmed up and tuned. Then they played and we realized the only good thing about having sat there was it kept us out of the more heavily- falling rain outside. The Swine Barn is also home to oodles of craft booths and I bought a rectangular piece of wood – oh, about four inches by two – that was painted white with black spots, said “COW” and had a little wire by which to hang it. I also got a wooden cut-out that says “MOO” and a pathetic reindeer because I felt so for him. AMELIAJAKE! The reindeer is not real, he is a piece of WOOD. I know my inclination to personify gets me too involved; I need to do something about that before I start a charity drive for pathetic wooden reindeers and primitive stuffed dolls and mooseheads on springs that stick into flowerpots.

We did more stuff, but I’ll get to that later. However, it was in this time that I first saw the coyote scalp with ears that is now sitting on my head. I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT MYSELF.