Cacophonies, cavalcades, and colors. Too much of too many things. And the smells will leave you twice confused. That smelled good! Or did it? You’ll never be quite sure. Throngs of people, as far as the eye can see. The little ones are excited, the big ones are tolerant, and the old ones are irritated. They break off from the flow here and there for nourishment. Turkey legs. Corn on the cob. Ice cream. Deep fried abominations. Peanut butter and jelly flavored chicken wings. Peanut butter and jelly flavored chicken wings? Peanut butter. And jelly. Flavored. Chicken wings. That’s not okay.
This is the land of smells. Smells of other people. Smells of food. Smells of heat. Smells of cold. And if you walk far enough, even smells of other animals. Which I don’t suggest. (At least don’t go for the smells…)
If you’ve never been in the Village of Yesteryear at the State Fair, then you’re missing out on the greatest craftsmen and artists in the state. It’s nice to step into the round building and find yourself disconnected from all things now. Inside this building, people are wearing traditional clothing. Inside this building, people are doing traditional arts and crafts. Inside this building, you can find hand made hats, soap, pipes, chairs, mugs, journals, and jewelry. That doesn’t even include the bbreathtaking artwork you can see from artists across this state. It truly is a amazing building.
But this year…this was the land of surprises. In the midst of deepfried twinkies with Twix bars and bacon and peanut butter and jelly flavored chicken wings, as I was beginning to actually cry due to the food abominations before me, I saw a small wooden building. A modest little strructure in the midst of all the lights and bedazzlements. A warm yellow sign made an offering of a simple treat. One word, painted on this rising sun that let you know all you really needed to know. “Cookies”.
At this booth, you could buy a cup of good ol’ American chocolate chip cookies. Or you could buy a bucket. A bucket of cookies. You could also get white or chocolate milk. NC manufactured milk. Cold milk. My theory is that they had some glacier ice that they poured it over…but all I have is circumstancial evidence. Namely the brain-freeze like affect I experienced aafter I had a cup.
And then again after my second cup.