At the Apple Country Fair…

Yesterday morning I had to get up at the crack of dawn.  It was the day of the Apple Country Fair in Brookfield, Massachusetts and our church (The Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church), which sits on the Brookfield Common, takes advantage of the ready-made crowd by holding our annual yard, tag, rummage sale that day.  I was in charge of the first shift in the book department.

Bleary-eyed that I was, I had to drive through Dunkin’ Donuts for a large coffee on the way.  Had they had extra large, it would have been just the thing, but I settled for large.  Then with fortifications in my cup holder, I drove on into Brookfield.  It was a gorgeous morning with hardly a cloud in the sky.  It was so beautiful I had to pull over to watch the sun and mist on the Quaboag River for a few minutes. 

The light was just so fantastic, that I kept thinking that I really do need to make a habit of getting up earlier.  But I know that will never happen.  Still, why not take advantage of it when it does happen to happen?

I worked my shift and managed to sell quite a few books.  I was very impressed by one woman who came in a bought a large stack of reading workbooks and simple readers for a student of hers who in third grade has not yet learned to read.  That’s dedication!  It made me feel grateful for dedicated teachers who go that extra mile as so many do.

When my relief arrived, I decided to wander around the Common for a little while to see what I could see.  The first thing that caught my eye was a couple of boxes of old milk bottles that someone had donated to our sale.  Way cool!  I struck up a conversation with a fellow who seemed to know about these kinds of things.  One that impressed me had some stuff inside.  He quickly told me that maybe I didn’t want that particular bottle as it contained a compressed and mummified mouse.  Yuk!  I didn’t buy a bottle, but now wish I had…just not the one with the mouse.  Oh, well….such is life.

Wandering around the common, I came across some pretty ingenious transportation for the ever popular Scooby-doo painted pumpkin.

And I met a beautiful greyhound girl who was glad to let me scratch her ears.  In return, she leaned on me and her owner told me that in her family, they call that move a “greyhound hug.”  Well, I couldn’t figure anything could top that, so since I had been up since the crack of dawn, I let the next guy get a good scratch in and went home.