This year’s Great Northern Exhibition ran from September 25th to the 27th. As you know, Dave and I loved last year’s ex, so we had to go again. This year was a bit trickier to schedule, as we had weekend guests arriving Saturday morning, so Dave decided to take Friday off. Dave wanted to take pictures again. I don’t understand why he wants to shoot the same vintage tractors and midway rides year after year, but I suppose it’s not so much the accumulation of nearly identical photographs as the act of taking the photo. Whatever.
For our local friends, the GNE is an all-weekend event. Mariane’s mother Maureen is on the GNE’s Board of Directors. Mariane competes in the baking and other food-related competitions – this year her butter tarts won first prize! As a young girl she was a GNE Ambassador. I think it’s kind of like being “Miss GNE”, but with a more politically correct and gender-neutral role and title. I envy that connectivity to a community and its various functions; I can only dream that one day I will be allowed to join that club. Mariane was one of this year’s judges for the junior talent contest, and we agreed to hook up near the stage at around 5:00PM.
Dave and I arrived at around 4:00. Though Dave had wanted to get there earlier, Mariane had warned us that Friday is “Education Day”. Every school kid in Clearview Township and beyond gets the day off school to go to the fair. We opted to wait until the young ‘uns had left the premises.
Once Dave shot his vintage tractors, we toured the agricultural exhibits. We spotted the sheep in one building. I love sheep! I approached each pen, admiring the cuteness within. Some were freshly shorn, others still wooly. This man kept coming up beside me and gripping the sheep’s haunches. “Wow, he must be a local farmer. I’ll bet he really knows his sheep!” I thought to myself. I was only mildly annoyed that he was invading my personal space. After about the third time, I noticed that he was being trailed by someone carrying a clipboard and making notations after Buddy spoke. Oh. He was the judge, and I had wandered right into the middle of the sheep judging competition. I moved out of his way.
While waiting for Mariane and her husband to meet us, we spotted her mother Maureen. Just like last year, she looked busy, and just like last year, we made eye contact. I’ve never forgiven myself for not acknowledging Maureen at last year’s cattle judging competition. Back then, my Citiot reserve was just too strong. But my desire to become a local, or at least be perceived by strangers as one, was also getting stronger with every weekend spent up north.
I hesitated, then boldly ventured, “Have you seen your daughter? We’re supposed to meet her here.” If Maureen didn’t remember me, at least she had a point of reference. Yes, I had felt the need to establish our commonality by playing the Mariane card, but more importantly, I did it. I had spoken to her! And I had spoken first! I can’t help but wonder what next year’s GNE has in stock for us. Who knows, Maureen might even know me by name!
