Sunshine, Somewhere

In the dreary drizzle defining the spongy Pacific Northwest I now dream of months earlier when skies were sapphire and so were my five ribbons at the San Juan County Fair.  The town turned upside down with balloons, hundreds of walk-on ferry tourists, pie of every color, and down-home music drifting atop the evergreens.  Locals began preparing seasons earlier and, skeptical, I wondered just how cool it could be.  As an avid parade watcher and festival tycoon I was marking my calendar and making sure we weren’t planning any off-island escapades.  
I had it:  Fair Fever, and so did Lucy and Betty.  The Fair hoopla was infectious, and I entered Betty’s hat in the Textile Guild, a photo of Betty, a stained t-shirt I revived in Trash to Treasure, and two poems about the fair.  Betty chose to enter a drawing of our family with Huck in the sky.  
Our best Whidbey Island pals are gone all summer, so we were delighted when their return coincided with opening night.  We forwent naps and giggled too much.  We went each day in the 90+ degree heat for basket weaving clinics, hot dogs, an opportunity to get lost in the house of mirrors with a sweaty and sketchy carnie and for the coolest livestock on the planet.
I think Luke and Erika were embarrassed and maybe a little envious as I ran to each booth to collect another, then another Blue Ribbon. And, they laughed when Lucy’s quilt I entered with the Guild was verbally torn to shreds and minus a ribbon.

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