It has been our tradition for the past 4 years for us to take Peter to the Sandwich Fair by ourselves. My husband works as a kind of docent in one of the display buildings (Antiques and Collectibles, how perfect is that?), so Peter and I do some preliminary exploring before Grandpa’s shift is done. The men always ride Otto’s Train, a hand-machined engine and several cars, that has been running for 50 years, I believe.
I have to say that the modern Ferris Wheel, full of safety features, was a disappointment. “Be sure to hold him tight,” DH warned unnecessarily. No hanging legs, no open view, no rocking — what’s the point?
After Grandpa headed home for a meeting, Peter and I made our way toward my car, stopping to go through the swine barn (“I can hardly wait to smell pig poop, Grandma!”). What a boy; I love him to pieces.