Let me tell you about my boat...err, about one of the best days of summer thus far. (points go to who ever knows what the heck that obscure and not so funny reference is from...)
Last weekend was the Hebron Fair. Hebron is a teeny little town in the lakes region of New Hampshire that boasts a village store, a church, and a post office. It's on the shores of Newfound Lake, and many of New Hampshire's oldest summer camps are located in the area. 1911! 1903! Wow! The Hebron Fair provides a rare time for campers in the area to get away from camp life and eat things like ice cream and candy. They still have to wear their brown and white checked button up shirts and brown shirts, though.
I drove up north with a poet friend of mine. She likes owls, odd kitchen items, and taxidermy, and she's perfect. We went to a little state park where we picked wild blueberries for an hour or so before swimming in the cleanest lake I've ever seen. We ate Babybel cheese and grapes.
On to the fair. The Hebron Fair is an annual event that is held in the town center. Crafters from all over the state come to set up their booths with hand painted signs reading "A Prince Sleeps Here," with soaps smelling of lavender and thyme, with airplanes made out of coke cans, with the kind of rings that I was inexplicably drawn to as a 13 year old girl. One man tried to get me to hold a cockroach. I don't really know why.
The highlight of the fair for Jess and myself was the rummage sale portion. Kitchen and home decor items marked for ten cents, one dollar, twenty five cents, three dollars. And fifty percent off after two pm! Among the clam-shaped candles and personalized Bride & Groom champagne flutes, I found several coffee mugs, plates, bowls, a ceramic blue cheese jar, and an old sake bottle. I think I spent around ten dollars.
Another highlight of the Hebron Fair is the Church basement clothing rummage. After two pm, it's "dollar bag" time, and each person is handed a paper bag as they enter the stuffy and mildewy room. The room is set up with four long tables piled with clothes, and racks along three of the four walls. I have no idea how many people were in there, or if any of the clothes were any good, because while Jess ran off to stuff her bag full of clothing, I cowered in the corner, more than a little overwhelmed at the calamity. Now I'll never know if that pile of old women sweaters held a treasure...
After watching kettle corn get made in a metal kettle with a paddle RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES, we drove home, where we found another poet and watched Killer Klowns from Outer Space and ate more cheese. The movie, incidentally, was hilarious. But the clowns were still terrifying. Not even bad acting can make clowns funny. Not even that.
And that, my friends, is essentially the recipe for a perfect summer's day. Add sunshine and heat and season to taste. Refreshing, season-appropriate, and fulfilling.