It’s the middle of August, school starts next week, and that means the annual Dallastown Carnival!
It’s been running all week, I could have gone any day, and I didn’t. It’s been hot and stupidly humid, and who wants to walk into Dallastown when it’s hot and humid?
It has been pretty, though. I’ll say that.
I almost turned back, half a mile from home. I was feeling the humidity this evening. I stopped at Turkey Hill and bought a Strawberry Kiwi Lemonade, and I made the final push for the town park.
There was nothing remarkable about the fair this year. A couple of tents set up for local organizations, rides, a band (they were covering Lit’s “My Own Worst Enemy” when I paused to watch them), and food trucks. I bought a gyro for twelve dollars.
Alas, no Tunnel of Goats this year, though after the unfortunate incident several years ago in which two children and a nurse became trapped in the tunnel I can understand how liability insurance would nix the Tunnel of Goats. I live in hope! But I also understand.
I couldn’t decide if the Ukrainian flags adorning one of the rides, seen from the gyro stand as I waited for my order, were a deliberate choice or an odd coincidence.
Speaking of Ukraine, I think Volodomyr Zelenskyy and European leaders have a really strong argument to make when they meet with Donald Trump in Washington on Monday — if Trump attempts to force through a peace on Russia’s terms, ceding land occupied by Russia plus land in Donetsk that has not been occupied by Russia, that Trump will guarantee he will not receive a Nobel Peace Prize, no matter how much he covets it. because he will have achieved a “peace” by selling out a democracy, however fragile, in favor of an authoritarian dictator with designs on more territorial gains.
All told, I spent maybe twenty minutes at the Dallastown fair. Google Maps tells me I was out and about for an hour and fifteen minutes total, which sounds about right.
I was absolutely soaked through with sweat when I arrived home. I sat outside for half an hour as darkness fell, and I drank water and listened to the bugs of the night.
It was a Short Summer, Charlie Brown.