Going Steady

This last weekend my home town had a carnival. They have it every summer but I hadn't gone in years. Nothing had really changed. It's your average small town fair I suppose. Though I don't recall ever going to any other small town fairs. So who am I to say it's average?

There are a few rides: the Octopus, the Tilt-a-Whirl, a carousel, swings, the Scrambler (though this time it was a different machine and they called it the Sizzler). And this year they had a Ferris Wheel. They never had one when I was growing up. They had the Zipper for a few years but that disappeared by the time I was old enough to not be afraid to ride it. Unfortunately, the Ferris Wheel was not cooperating with us that evening so we never got to ride that.

There's the typical carnival food: corn dogs, cotton candy, funnel cake. I only partook of the last one. God, it was good. I freaking love fried dough. Now I'm hungry.

Then there were carnival games. You know the type. Throwing darts at balloons, knocking over cups, picking a rubber duck from a pool, tossing a ring. Well, that last one wasn't there this year. Actually, I'm not sure it was ever there. I never played any of those games. I always spent my money on food and rides. But this year was different. This year I went to the carnival with my boyfriend. I told him he needed to prove his love to me by winning me a stuffed animal. Just like the movies. Although, now that I think about it, I can't name any one movie where that happened. The image is clear in my mind: a boy Letterman's jacket with his hair slicked back, a girl in a poodle skirt with her hair tied in a perfect bow. He either plays the shooting game, the ball toss game, or that one game where you use the comically large hammer to ring the bell. He wins a silly pink stuffed dog or something, she cheers, and they happily ever after. The scene is so familiar but I couldn't tell you where it I know it from. It's just one of those things I suppose.

Anyway, he didn't win me a pink stuffed dog. I got a green giraffe!

I named him Alfie (short for Alfonso). Way cooler than a pink dog. He was won at the duck pond game. Not as thrilling as ringing the bell, but still quite effective. And giraffes are kinda my favorite so I'm pretty excited about it.

Also, in the process of winning Alfie for me, Dustin (aka the boyfriend) acquired a few other trinkets. Turns out winning the big prize on the first go around is quite rare. Who knew?

The first game played was the gun one. In the movies it's always some cardboard duck you shoot with a water pistol. Here it was plastic cups and a rifle that shot corks.

From this game, we walked away with three 'prizes'.

This sad, misshapen elephant. His head is permanently tilted to the left and his trunk is the size of his foot. But he's still kinda cute in an awkward way. 

This mini plastic bow and arrow set. It has a little rubber suction cup like apparatus on the end, but it doesn't stick to anything. 

And I've been told this was an attempt at a frog. But to me it just looks like some deformed, pitiable creature who's given up on life.

As a side note, we're going to a drive-in movie on Friday. I kinda want to wear a poodle skirt.  

I Met a Man Named Loyal

Last week I traveled to Minnesota with my mother. My dear grandmother recently had to enter a nursing home. I never considered how complicated and expensive the process would be (who knew getting old would cost so much). It made for a difficult week. The shinning silver lining was seeing my grandmother, Evelyn. She's 95 now and up until February 1 of this year (when she had her stroke) she was one of the most active people I know. I knew it would be hard to see her resigned to a wheelchair, stuck in a nursing home. And it was. But I won't go into it.

What I will say is that my grandmother is quite popular. She genuinely loves people. She has an astounding number of friends and treasures each one. It amazes me that she can remember everyone's name, who they are related to,what they do, where they're from, etc. I wish I could be more like her. She is always writing, calling, asking people how life is going. And now that she's incapacitated, many are returning the favor. Almost everyday we were there she had another visitor. They call her Evy.

So while visiting grandma, I met a lot of people. Actually, I should I say met them again. They had seen me around when we lived in Minnesota. It's impossible for me to remember them though. I haven't lived in Minnesota since I was two. But I digress. Many of these folks had the most interesting names. 'Old people' names, you know what I mean? Ethelyde, Ardis, Muriel. Then there was a man named Loyal.

armless elfs grandma has gifted
me over the years

When we weren't at the nursing home, we were at grandma's apartment sorting through things and packing things away. I wished I had brought my camera. Grandma has collected some very interesting objets d'art in her time. Most of them are Scandinavian in nature (grandma loves showing off her Norwegian heritage). Lots of strange elf-looking things. But some really pretty pieces as well. She has a thing for blue glass. (I too have a thing for colored glass. Perhaps she is the source.)

i swiped a few

You know what else my grandma loves? Crossword puzzles. She had at least dozen books of crossword puzzles. Before calling it a day, mum and I would watch Nick at Nite together and solve some crosswords. It was more fun than it sounds.

Besides, there was no internet.

The Case of the Disappearing Streets

What summer is synonymous with? Sunny days and balmy nights? Picnics? Baseball? Ha! Not around these parts, my friends. Folks 'round here like to joke that there are only two seasons: winter and road construction. At the moment that sounds about right.

The streets surrounding my house have disappeared.

and to the right

to the left

It has something to do with the gas lines or water pipes needing to be fixed. At one point we lived next to a giant trench. No pictures of that stage though. Too many burly construction men meandering about. I was afraid to  photograph them. No men operating large machinery on a Saturday though. Also, it was raining. Which brings me to my next point...

After a winter that lingered on into May, we have finally reached the stage that, at any other time, I would be enjoying. The rain. Days and days of rain. I love the rain. The way it sounds, the way it smells. Who doesn't love it? Dull people, that's who. But this year the rain is not as welcome as it normally would be. Days of endless rain delays the work that needs to be done. The project is already estimated to take five months to finish. Delays of any sort are most unwelcome.

But the days when construction can continue are not pleasant either. More than once I've woken up to the house rattling around me. More than once I've received a headache listening to the agonizing harmonies of excavators, bulldozers, and dump trucks working in tandem. More than once I've fallen asleep to the same sounds because the men keep working after dark.

a photo taken a few weeks ago when the tree out front was full of pretty pink blossoms

I know I shouldn't complain. It needs to be done, whatever it is they're doing. The road was in terrible shape before anyway. But the inconvenience and noise is unavoidably irritating. Also it doesn't help that every other major road around the county is being worked on too (I'm exaggerating, but only slightly).

But the good news is I'm leaving tomorrow for a week-long trip with my mum.

The bad news is we're leaving to go pack up my grandmother's things because she had to be moved to a nursing home after suffering a stroke four months ago.

Life, it seems, never gets easier.

It Has Come To This

When I woke up this morning - actually I can't really say I woke up this morning. Truth is I never went to sleep last night. So many of my nights of late are just that: sleepless. But why trouble you with my trifling woes? Insomnia is nothing new. And even this has its silver lining.

Whilst most late night/early morning television consists of the most absurd health and beauty hokum, there

they called these two Honey and Toto

are a few gems hidden away in the wee hours. Because I was unable to sleep, I was able to watch Big Cat Diaries. I love this show. It's a pity they don't make it anymore. There's just something so purely entertaining about these British fellows racing about Kenya, filming some of the most dangerous animals on the planet. It's a delightful import from the BBC. They give the cats names, follow their personal stories, and make it all so dramatic. And the babies are so cute! It's so sad when they die. Which happens a lot.

look at his face!

I started watching this show about four years ago when I would catch it over the lunch hour. I think there were only three or four seasons of it made. But it's just fantastic. I love big cats. And because the show is a little (gasp) educational, I've learned quite a bit about them. For instance, I now know that cheetahs cannot roar and male leopards are rarely seen in the wild because they are so very shy. I could go on. They just fascinate me so.

And I've just realized I began this post with "When I woke up this morning" but never finished the thought. But that makes sense since I was going to say "with my mind racing." It's been wandering all over the place lately. It keeps me up at night, never settling on one thing. Always moving, always changing. I try to catch it, pin it down, but it's out of control. I attempted to rein it in with a book.

I've been reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I needed to see for myself why this book was so popular. I'm about a third of the way through. It's pretty good so far but nothing spectacular. I keep hoping it will pick up the pace soon. I'd like it to be at least worth the $6 I spent. I'd also like it to be worth all the time I've put in, muddling through the vast array of Swedish names.

Anyway, the book didn't work. My mind didn't quiet down. Sleep didn't come.

So the telly turns on again at around 5 AM and I watch Animal Planet until the sun makes an appearance.