The Childish Joys of the State Fair

I have to confess that I am a total sucker for the state fair. I'm fortunate that Sacramento is home to it, and cheerfully go every year to be talked into the "fair specials" in the sales and technology buildings, eat corn dogs, get pricey creams rubbed into my hands and face, and otherwise walk around with a silly grin marking me as the perfect "rube".

The colors, the scent of cinnamon rolls and roasting meats, the sounds of music, kids, rides, hawkers... all blend to a heady, multi-level froth that I breathe in. I didn't bring my camera this year, (dumb!) and I had only the camera phone to grab one shot of some brilliant red tables and umbrellas that caught my eye.

So I am guilty: we walked away with a neat-o glass and tile cutter (for my mosaic gazing ball project), aloe skin cream for Jim (ok, I'll probably use it too...), a facial skin system, some lids that go on every container to seal them, and a thingy that you put on your neck to keep cool (like ice cubes in a rolled bandana). There was so much more, like the killifish that you could hatch yourself, and that back thing that you hang in and looks like an oversized fanny pack and tools and fair trade fabrics and jewelry and and and... sigh.

We will get silly, persistant phone calls from vacation companies, strange advertising via email and things that will drift in for months to come, but it's all good. I wish the vendors good sales in this economy, and know that I did my part to help. It's all we can do.