When you photobomb the blogger...

This month, when Little brother scolded me for not blogging, he used my middle name. Apparently he means business. Okay, okay. Cool your jets, young blood.

The Deerfield Fair! What is there to say that I haven't already said over the years? Little brother and his wife come up from Charlotte. We eat a lot. We laugh a lot, mostly at each other. Let's take a stroll through the film clip and see what comes up . . . Gerty, roll the tape.

Yes, it's true. They were selling balls. To eat.

Little brother was a complete jerk every time I took a picture.

Seriously. Cranky stepfather is not impressed. But Cranky stepfather is never impressed.

These things are still ugly.

***

So every fair has its craft exhibits. And it's become clear to me that they let just about any riff raff in.

Exhibit A:

My mom's blue ribbon winner!

Exhibit B:

My imaginary bf Ted Nichols, amazing every year.

A second Ted Nichols piece! I love this painting. Also, this is getting stupid.
The guy lives down the street. I just don't have the lady balls to contact him and tell him I'm a fan.

Exhibit C:
Wait--what's this amidst all the 'merica goods? That there, off to the right...

Gerty, pan closer. Is that a blue ribbon?

 Damn, that thing is stunning! Closer...

Can we see some detail please...

In case you are into this sort of thing, it's one thread
over one square on 40-ct linen. It was a total little bitch to stitch.

 My first entry into the fair and my first blue ribbon! Yay me! When I went to collect my piece days later, a fellow crafter in line struck up a conversation with me and asked which piece was mine:

Me: It's a small cross stitch piece... not sure how to describe it. There's a fleur-de-lis...it's really small...
Fellow crafter: Wait...was it the red one?!
Me, whispering inside and mentally high-fiving myself: yessss!

But before you get all "Damn, Kelly's awesome and winnin' blue ribbons 'n shit; how can I be more like her," please note that about a foot away from my painstaking work was this other blue ribbon winner:

Yes. I'm in the company of the iconic Hang In There kitty.

And of course there are the obligatory animal pictures:

 

Huh, look at that. Little brother is being all nice and stuff.

I came upon this scene. I'm guessing Cranky stepfather and Little brother are
picking on each other. Mom is in hysterics. I love it.

Aaaand back to asshattery.

My heart breaks a little every time I see an apostrophe used this way.

Christmas shopping for Little brother: Check!

Then the sound of screeching breaks:

Wait, let me get a picture before you dig in...awesome.
Thanks for sticking your face into the frame.

So the chocolate-covered bacon. was. not. good. It was too sweet--sigh, yes, I just wrote that. Mom tried her hand at it a couple days later:

At the fair, the chocolate was overpowering. At home, I could barely taste the chocolate over the bacon. I think it needed salt, frankly. Sea salt would give it a little crunch and maybe marry the two flavors. I'm sure someone out there has figured this out. I have faith that there is an answer to the bacon/chocolate question.

Meanwhile, this happened:

An apple? At the fair? I didn't think that was possible.
And frankly, it's like I don't even know you, Ligia.

 

Truth. No effing fried pickles again this year.

We asked Little brother to take a picture of us. A photographer, he is not.
Poor Mom, popping out of a sprig of tall grass . . .

Grrrr

In case you're wondering, no. Nothing is serious in our family.

So thank you, Little brother, for reminding me to write a blog entry. Where would I be without you, m'dear?

xoxo

Last days of summer

Little brother texted recently, "A month since a blog post? Unacceptable." Actually, almost two, but who's counting?

September. The last weeks of summer. That first time you step outside work and feel a chill on the breeze. The first time you walk in the woods and realize you're stepping on leaves. Tumblr becomes a full-throttle Autumnal kaleidoscope. Making a pot of tea in the morning feels right. You wake up realizing you've pulled an extra blanket over you sometime in the night. You accidentally kick a cat in the night because they're suddenly snuggled up beside you after paying you no mind all summer. Yes, September is good stuff.

I've spent some time wandering around Durham, taking side roads I drive by every day on my way to work. I checked out the Doe Farm trails for some nice, flat walking. Note to self: Wild turkeys, though slow and awkward, are hard to capture on film. I won't even bother posting those pics.

It's all pretty, pastoral walking. And then this happens and scares the ever-loving shit out of you:

What's up, Downeaster?

You might think, as I did, that Doe Farm had something to do with deer. And you would be mistaken. May I present to you, the Doe family. (Little brother, I've added a knife to my Amazon wishlist for Christmas; this point in the walk gave me the willies.)

Little Eddie: He smiled and whispered: "MAMA I'm going."
*shudder*

Eventually, you make it out to water.
And maybe you hear voices and think it's time to high-tail it back to the car.

But then you stop because you've become a serious geek with the new camera.

Further up the road is Packers Falls Bridge. At first I thought it was silly that they had to mention "nudity" on their sign.

Then I saw that losing one's clothes is indeed a problem here.

Back in June I bought a ticket for a whale watch through some Amazon deal, thinking my friend and I would have ALL summer to figure that out. Then we both had an "oh shit, it's September" moment but lucked out with a great day out of Gloucester.

Ryan's, like, a real photographer. I'm the Robin to his Batman. Or something like that.

This one came to be named Victim because of the chunk
taken off the right side there. It's been kickin it in the area since the '80s.

Nostrils!

This one was getting all lazy and then hit the world's smallest buoy and had a total conniption. Sudden drama and splashing everywhere.

Yes, that's some scary shit there. Go give yourself a time out.

How can one not love New England?

Damn was I sick on that trip. But I kept it down. And that's all that matters.

This weekend, I went out for a quick walk at Stratham Hill Park. I was going to do a longer walk but realized minutes in that I'd forgotten bug spray. I'll be back.

My fear of heights precludes me from getting to the top. My body just
comes to a stop at a certain level the two times I've been here.

The view is pretty awesome though. Even from halfway up.

A dial down below shows you what you're looking at. The small children who all ran past me up the steps squealed, "I can see the ocean from up here!" Showoffs.

Then this morning I woke to rain. The first day of fall. And I stayed in jammies, started reading Persuasion, and eventually made some lentil soup. Later this week, Little brother and his beloved come up from Charlotte for the Deerfield Fair. We'll do the whole eat-until-sick-and-pet-animals thing. And you know there will be a blog post after that. Cheers!