When Sydney was a baby, we returned to the farm at fair time meeting up with the rest of the family. Sydney was toted around in the baby carrier as the cousins got reacquainted. Town kids exploring a country fair.
If Fair success can be measured, it was that year by the number of stuffed toys the kids won. Needless to say, we could not take all of them on the return trip home by plane; however, Spuds did sit in the seat next to me. Airline attendants laughed at our menagerie.
I miss the fair. I miss seeing familiar faces. I miss the smell of the animal barns. I miss visiting with older friends sitting below the race track. I miss the walk back through time.
Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe the success of the fair is measured in the memories that visit each August. Visits back to Neff Road from Oregon.
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