One peculiarity of our 2nd-floor apartment is that it's right across from the Latah Country fairgrounds, and it's that time of year again; the Zipper is spinning, the air is filled with the smells of cotton candy and elephant ears, and there's so many carny folk around it looks like a Joe Dirt convention. In short, the fair is back in town.
Mind you, as fairs go, this is pretty rinky-dink. Latah County is not exactly large - outside of Moscow, you've got a handful of tiny ex-mining towns that number in the low hundreds, if that - so the fair reflects that. We don't even get has-been musical acts, we get never-wasses ("Ladies and gentlemen, the Latah County Polka All-Stars!")
Okay, that was a cheap shot. I have nothing against polka music. Still, any fair that gives out ribbons for Lego sculptures...well, I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
That being said, the Latah County Fair is a damn sight better than LentilFest, I tell you what. And it's free, too. Can't beat that price.
Cheryl is doing better and we hope to stroll the grounds and "see the aminals" (sic), as well as get some greasy corndogs. Mmm, corndogs...however, I doubt we will be taking a spin in the Tilt-a-Whirl at this time. Winning a cheap-ass stuffed animal, however, may be in the cards.
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