The area around my town is potato country. That’s right. Next to Idaho, the San Luis Valley of Colorado grows the most potatoes in the United States. It’s (I believe) our main source of income. Now ye give tat a tink, will ye’ knowin’ tat sum a yer Irish ancestor’s arrived in America during the starvin’ and ye might be a bit worried. All ‘at remains is a lurkin’ fear tat a potato might betray me…
I don’t like them much, except French fries, my Aunt Martha’s potatoes fried with onions and the occasional hashbrowns which do business in Switzerland as a thing called Rösti.
But the festival is great. My friend Lois and her developmentally disabled son, Mark, came down from Colorado Springs to partake in the wonders of Heaven (Monte Vista).
I didn’t take pictures, but my friend did. I’ll let them round out the thousand or so words I might have written extoling the wonders of it all. BUT I did have a couple of great experiences myself.
Something rather personal. I am a tiger. I guess it’s my totem. I didn’t pick it; years ago my therapist said, (in a French accent because she was French) “Martha you are a tiger. You see what you want or need and you go do it.” She was right. I then learned about tigers and was surprised at the similarities. They are solitary. They like to live in cold, snowy places (I am a Siberian tiger). They find relationships dangerous because (in the case of the female) they can die in the mating process. There are other similarities, but I’ll stop there.
Of course, as this was a country fair, there was face painting. As we were leaving I saw a little boy — 3 years old? — with his face painted perfectly as a tiger. I said, “It’s a tiger boy!” He turned around, looked at me, and roared and took a paw swipe. I roared back. We roared at each other for quite a while and did some paw swipes. It was wonderful. I said, “It takes one to know one,” by way of explaining to his mother who was laughing.
After that, I actually felt lighter in my heart. It’s good to find a kindred soul.