Sunday Fair

There's something so old-fashioned about a state fair. So Rogers and Hammerstein. I just love them.


I'd never been to the NC fair before but was so delighted by our morning there.



We saw the sweetest little animals. These piglets remind me of the one that my sister had as a child. Don't be fooled: they are strong and loud. We lived in a nice residential neighborhood and before the pig got too big my sister would put a fuchsia and rhinestone leash on it, don high heels, and walk that swine around the block. As it got older it would get out of its pin and folks would leave messages on our voicemail saying, "Uhmmm...there's a pig in our yard, and I'm thinking it might be yours... ".


This is I.M. That's his name. His owner told me that he is a stud donkey and that he has 12 girlfriends. What a job. I told him I thought I.M.'s name should be Hef.


So of course the best thing about a fair is the crap food, and Pete and I ate our fair share of tubular meat and funnel cakes and apple cider.



The fair has a sweet, Mayberry-type feel to it. We were there on Sunday morning so there were gospel sings.


I think these are mules. Such docile creatures, and so content.








It does. It really does.