NYS Fair

The NYS Fair is almost over for another year. Tammie loved to go to the Fair and I have blogged about our big fight on stage back in '69. After that tumultous visit, my family continued to go and usually would arrive early in the morning and stay way too late at night. My Mom used to restrict us to one ride a piece and the rest of the time would be spent listening to music, eating, or touring the various buildings.

Somewhere in the late 1970's, we became interested in entering competitions. I had this rabbit named Patches, and I got this brilliant idea to bring him to the Fair and have him compete for a rabbit blue ribbon or whatever they award in such things. Now, I didn't even have a carrier for the little guy and had to carry him in my arms from our car to the Poultry Building. Once there, he was tattooed with a number and then taken care of for the week. This was great for me, as I didn't have to worry about being bitten or cleaning his cage. In addition, my Mom and Dad received parking and entry passes for the entire run of the Fair. This wasn't bad, once you consider the $5.00 rabbit entry fee.

Unfortunately for Patches he was disqualified. Apparently, he didn't have the necessary markings that would make him a champion Dutch Black rabbit. The staff at the Poultry Building took great pains to tell me that he was very well behaved, though. I remember that it was quite painful to hear at the time, but I got over it quick and used the story for a show and tell segment in my class in school that fall.

Tammie concentrated on cooking and entered various bake goods. Of course, they didn't take such entries at the Poultry Building, but they did at the Arts and Home. I remember her making snickerdoodles and molasses cookies (I am pretty sure that she would have never eaten a molasses cookie, otherwise). Much to my tween/young teen shock, she actually won blue ribbons for that stuff. I believe her previous cooking experience consisted of fried peanut butter sandwiches and fried bologna. She always told me that you had to wait until the center of the bologna blew up, before you could poke it with a fork and eat it.

We were all quite proud of her cooking triumphs and she actually was interviewed by a reporter from the Camillus Advocate. Hurray for Tam! She never ceased to surprise us all.

One of the last times that I spoke with her, she lamented that she missed going to the fair for the first time in her memory.