On the fair, shallots, and not crawling

Last week was the county fair.  I like the fair; I like to attend and I like to exhibit.  I entered stuff for the first time last year, and was embarrassed to realize that, well, there’s not much competition.  The number and size of the ribbons I brought home made me feel something like a prize-winning horse.

Nevertheless, I entered stuff again this year (no pictorial proof, sorry).  I sort of spaced the deadline, so I didn’t have my best lace pieces freshly blocked.  Due to that, I submitted only the small shawl and the knitted elephant (both of which have been documented on this here blog).  They did okay — no sweepstakes this year, but almost everything wins first prize in its division (except Brad’s entry, but really, that was due to the fact that he entered in the Drop Cookies division, which gets more entries, making it an actual competition.  Apparently the judge was not a licorice-lover, since his fennel cookies got second).

I do really, really enjoy looking at the other textile goods that are submitted.  I don’t tend to look much at the animals at the county fair, reserving all the animal-looking time for the state fair in September.  The state fair isn’t huge in this state, but it is still fun.  And I gotta get my huge sheep/pig/cow/horse looking in sometime during the year, eh?

I entered several canned goods at the county this year as well.  The pickled Brussels sprouts won best in show, which was pleasing.  Still, they don’t open and taste the canned goods, which makes any victory quite hollow.  I can’t explain why I so enjoy entering — pride, I suppose.

I plan to enter the state fair this year.  Last year I was expecting to deliver pretty much any day, so I decided not to bother.  I am curious, though, about the competition there.  There is one lace knitter who is very good and very prolific who exhibits there.  Not much question in my mind that she deserves to beat me.  But we might not be in the same division, who knows?

The county mayor has suggested cutting the county fair next year to save the dough.  While I don’t enjoy that thought, I do think it is a sensible option to consider.  Some people are very up in arms, saying if it’s cut for one year, it will never come back.  I don’t know about that; county fairs are a pretty deep-rooted tradition.  I really do love the mayor; he stands alone among the local elected officials in my esteem (now that the governor, who I had also come to really like, has been swept away to become the ambassador to China.  Sigh.  I do not have high hopes for his replacement.  Then again, I didn’t have high hopes for him, either, and I was wrong.)

We went on a hike on Sunday.  Since I took no pictures, there is really nothing more to say than it was nice, too bad I can’t share it better.  The weather has been wonderful the last week or so, and it was such a beautiful, pleasant day for a jaunt.

Quick subject change from the above meandering thoughts:  Here’s what you get from planting four shallots from the grocery store (well, these plus two more big ones already eaten).  They were very easy to grow:

Don't hate me because I'm an expensive vegetable.

Don't hate me because I'm an expensive vegetable.

I am totally psyched about this.  For years I have read recipes this way, “Hm, what ingredients do I need for this one?  Potatoes, okay.  Creme fraische, hmm, that’s expensive, I’ll sub sour cream.  Shallots.  Ha!  I am no sucker!  I will use the 40-cent plain old onions and not the $4.00 fancy pants onion-y type things!”  But still, there must be a reason shallots are called for in practically every savory recipe in practically every cooking magazine.  Other than the obvious fact that all cooking magazines are hopelessly hoighty-toighty, I mean.

Baby C is just on the cusp of crawling.  H never crawled.  He eventually learned to scoot around on his butt, and was just fine with that thank you very much.  I thought Baby C would maybe go that route, too, from all signs up to this point.  But he is constantly getting into almost-crawling position.  So, you know.  Mebbe.

That is totally not plumber's crack.

That is totally not plumber's crack.

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About sayingthings

K lives in the US with her man and kiddos, knits, cans, dehydrates, bakes bread, (but doesn't cook regular food, particularly), crochets, spins, gardens, studies for a degree that never seems to end, and um, works. Sometimes she wastes time online. Also -- and family, she's looking at you here -- sometimes she swears and says things you might not agree with. But she still loves you.

Posted on August 12, 2009, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. For the few of us who find onions too strong, the cost of a shallot (or leek) is okay. We get a more flavor than if we leave them out altogether and we feel very chic eating with our pinkies in the air.

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