For years, ever since I was 11 or 12, I was a faithful fair-goer. In Thunder Bay, Ottawa, Saskatoon, when the circus came to town, I was there, drawn like a magnet to the midway with its lights and barkers, games of chance and sideshows.
After our children became teenagers, going to the fair wasn’t such a priority anymore, and it’s at least 10 years since I’ve been to the Ex in Saskatoon.
My husband and I happened to be in the city recently, and with a few hours to spare we took in the fair.
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Walking down the midway, hot dog in hand (a fair isn’t a fair without a hot dog loaded with mustard and relish and raw onions) the rides weren’t quite what I remembered from my youth.
I wasn’t even tempted. They all went around and around and sideways and even upside down.
I had to look hard to find the Tilt-a-Whirl and the bumper cars. They may be old-fashioned and much tamer but I’m glad they were still there.
I found the merry-go-round too. It was the one ride I thought my head and stomach were still up to, but didn’t suggest it as I knew it would embarrass the husband.
Like a lot of other youngsters, there was a time in my life when I thought joining the circus would be glamorous.
There’s still a thrill as I take in the sights and sounds of a midway, but the urge to run away and join the circus is long gone. There’s no point because, living on a farm, I often feel that I have already joined the circus.
There’s the definite feel of a rollercoaster when I’m trying to guide a combine down a hill that is criss-crossed by watercourses.
And, instead of racing small pigs and ducks like they did the other day, we often race cattle and deer, but they don’t run as neatly through the gates as the little piggies did. Maybe it’s because we don’t have the pan with cookies on the other side.
Other times, it’s more a mental merry-go-round: no rain, too little rain, too much rain, seeding time, breakdown, run for parts, repeat at harvest and sometimes in between.
Meals, especially busy-time meals, often resemble those of the midway: hotdogs and Coke and candy apples without the candy. And the lights of a combine in a field after dark, taking off the year’s crop, can match the lights of a midway any day for beauty and excitement.
There isn’t a day goes by that I’m not glad I joined the circus.
