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Twirlin’, Limey style!

twirling

These poor girls haven’t fallen down or anything. This is a deliberate part of their baton-twirling routine, thenkyewverymuch. It was the worst exhibition of twirling expertise I have seen since…ummm…the one before it.

Yep, it’s the village fête season! Do we have a similar phenomenon in the States? In the Midwest, perhaps? I don’t know.

I remember we had a state fair in Tennessee, which was a big ol’ 4H-meets-midway-carny kind o’ thing. Seems like every year, they announced on the news that somebody had found a black widow in the bathroom. I got lost at that fair one year, when I was five. That was fun.

Then there was the Fiddlers’ Jamboree in Smithville, which was a musical cornpone county fair sort of dealie.

But here, pretty much every village around picks a Saturday in Summertime and holds itself a little fair, in varying degrees of size and lameness. They’re built around stalls selling baked goods and used books and knick-knacks. Local charities are usually represented. There are a few rides, maybe. Perhaps some livestock or other beasties. The antique car people turn out to show off their handiwork. And then some kind of live performances; a band, performing animals. Twirlers. Lawnmower races.

There must be a dozen of them inside our usual roaming territory. Sadly, we can’t go to them all — they cluster on particular weekends.

I can only imagine what I’ve missed…

July 27, 2009 — 6:20 pm
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