Adel Sweet Corn Festival '16: What a Great Afternoon

We went to the Iowa State Fair on opening day, and we plan on going next Tuesday and maybe next Sunday, too. That doesn't mean we were sitting at home twiddling our fingers waiting for the calendar to flip its pages to enjoy great food, entertainment, and Iowa hospitality.

We visited the Adel Sweet Corn Festival on Saturday.

Adel's festival is held near and around its town square. Neither Inwood or Rock Valley had a town square, and I'm jealous of Adel's small town majesty.

We arrived at the festival a bit after noon, and it was about 70 degrees in the shade according to a local tree meteorologist.

Our first stop was to check out the food trucks. We shared a pulled pork sandwich that was great, but I was too hungry to pull out our camera. Daphne had a Jamaican jerk chicken sandwich that did make a photo shoot appearance. Sorry if partially eaten food grosses you out.

Nice job, Curbin Cuisine!

I checked out the car show.

After that we grabbed some free sweet corn. You just need to snag a paper plate and get in line. Once you get to the sweet corn stand you simply tell them how many ears of corn you want.

Then grab some milk crates and dig in.

Up next was the promised bag of cotton candy. Char gets this about once a year, and we always pay for it later. The sugar rush makes her whole body shake.

She gets a little out of control...

Luckily, she could burn off some energy on the inflatables.

We also caught a free performance from 80's metal cover band Abby Normal.

"Sweet Child O' Mine," indeed.

That's totally cheesy, I know, but parenting has made me such a sap.

On the way home we stopped by Petsmart to get some dog food, and I spotted these three kittens sleeping in an adoption cage. This post has already become sappy, so why not show you sleeping kittens?

Then, for a change of tone, I'm going to switch from cute cats to dirty dogs.

We also stopped by HyVee to get some grilling supplies, and I spotted the worst looking hot dog I have ever seen for sale:

HyVee, have a little more pride in what you sell. Even gas stations would throw a burnt brick like this away.

link

Our Oceanside Vacation: Wrap-Up

I was dreading falling asleep on our last night in California. I knew that in the morning I would have to admit defeat and surrender my vacation to the calendar's truth. Instead of relaxing, I stewed in the plush depths of the bed's blankets while the insolent waves outside repeatedly slapped the sand and then slid back in retreat.

I was angry with the ocean because I knew I was going to miss it. Even the largest lake in the Midwest would be embarrassed by a comparison. But what else?  I wouldn't miss the California traffic. I'm not used to a 30 mile drive taking an hour. And a half. We ate some great food in California, but Des Moines can deliver that as well. We met some nice people, but I live in Iowa, you can't throw a stick here without hitting a nice person. So why was I so reluctant to go home?

Astronaut Marsha Ivins said in a narrative written for Wired magazine, "... on Earth, you're almost never out of touch. Anyone can reach you if they need to. But going to space, you are really out of reach... there's not much you can do about those everyday worries: Did I pay the bills? Did I feed the dog? I felt like everyday things just stopped at the edge of the atmosphere."

That's what I was going to miss. In California I was on the carefree side of the "edge of the atmosphere".

One edge of the atmosphere was the threshold of our rented condo. Inside, I could leave a slice of uneaten toast on the kitchen counter and a thieving cat wouldn't make it disappear. If I left the front door open for more than a few seconds I wouldn't be chasing our dog Maggie out of the street. The answering machine's red light never blinked, and the mailbox was always empty.

Another edge of the atmosphere was where the ocean met the beach. Once there, I could stop sucking in my stomach. I'm not famous, popular, or even well liked. But after 23 years of teaching high school, I've had about 3,500 students in my classrooms. Add to that number those students' parents, siblings, and friends, and the chance of being recognized at the local pool expands like my waistline. So, it was a relief to walk around with my less than stellar beach body without hearing someone whisper, "Wow. Monson is even fatter than I thought he was."

Anonymity can free your soul. Or at least your ab muscles.

So, it wasn't California that I was going to miss. I was going to miss the escape from of my everyday realities. But we all know vacations can't last forever. Even astronauts have to come down sometime. Marsha Ivins also wrote, "I was totally liberated from Earth. But all those earthly concerns reattached as soon as we reentered. By the time I landed, my brain was mapping out a to-do list."

On the morning of our departure, I was mildly depressed. At the end of that Iowan runway there would be a lawn to mow, cat boxes to clean, and work clothes to wear. School would resume, and instead of being a figure on a beach, I'd be teaching figures of speech. Heavy sigh.

Then I remembered a brief encounter by the Oceanside Pier.

While watching Charlotte make sandcastles, I spotted a young couple leisurely walking past. The husband's infant carrier was holding their baby daughter, and the mother was wearing a University of Iowa t-shirt. For fun I shouted at them, "Go Hawks!" but they kept walking. Moments later they paused, and the woman looked at her husband quizzically. He made a gesture towards her shirt. She turned towards us, shielded her eyes with a hand, and asked, "Are you from Iowa?"

I said yes, and I asked if they were, too. As they approached she shook her head and said, "I was born in Iowa, but my parents moved here when I was six. But my grandparents still live near Dubuque. I've been back to their farm a few times, but..." she confided, "I, I, really miss Iowa." She gave her husband a sideways glance. We chatted for a few more moments and then parted ways.

When they were out of earshot, Daphne looked at me, spread out her arms towards the ocean, and joked, "How could anyone stand here and say they miss Iowa?" At that moment, if you were to look down into the wet sand, you would see the sunlight reflected in thousands of tiny, golden mirrors.

I took the question seriously. On the flight home I thought about what I'd miss if we stayed in California. Family. Our Church. Tasty Tacos. Bare feet in the backyard grass. Autumn's falling leaves. The smell of the brisk air on a Football Friday night. Corn fields. Iowa chops. The first snow. Sledding. A February supper of crock pot chili. Our dog's smile. Friends from work. Winter's thaw. Casey's pizza... my list, Daphne's list, and Char's list would stretch on and on and on.

When our plane touched down in Des Moines, I was comfortable with my reentry.

Coming home was going to be okay. No, it was better than that. Coming home was great.

(Plus, there's always this: Link)

Iowa State Fair 2013: Stick Your Head in There Edition

In a lot of ways, this year's trip to the fair was like our previous visits to the fair.

We stopped by Ye Old Mill to see our fair brick.

The girls shared a pork chop on a stick. And like last year, I didn't share mine.

They shared a funnel cake, and I stayed out of it. The only nonmeat items I eat at the fair are the cheese curds.

And we tried some new foods on a stick. A lot was made of the shrimp corn dog, but the bacon-wrapped rib won me over. Man, I hope this makes a comeback for next year.

Here's my rib, and yes, I did share it with Daphne. She got a bite.

The big difference with this visit to the fairgrounds was Charlotte herself. I'm sure it's just a phase, but she was too scared to do most of the things we enjoyed last last year. Clifford the Big Red Dog was terrifying. She was sure she'd be eaten by the tunnel at Ye Old Mill. And although we were among the 94,705 people who slid down the Giant Slide in 2012, Char was having none of it this year. She told me she wanted to go, but she ran away after I bought her a ticket to ride.

So, I went by myself.

The only ride she'd try was the Sky Ride, and I suspect that was because she could sit next to mom the whole time.

The big hit for Char were the wooden and fabric stand-ins that you can put your face through. She was all over those. 

Daphne doesn't have a clue why Char got such a kick out of posing with these stand-ins, but I have a suspicion.

My confession will come later.

Guess I'm a Poser

I have this sticker on the back window of our car:

I think it might have been designed as a slightly ironic jab at the slightly elitist Colorado sticker made popular in the 90s:

But irony isn't why I like my Iowa Native sticker.

What I like best about my native sticker is that I'm truly proud to live in Iowa. Before Daphne and I bought a house here, we went city shopping. We researched and traveled to as many as possible, and during these trips I discovered something. I found out that I'm a mid-western guy, a guy who enjoys living in Iowa, and more specifically, a guy who really loves Des Moines. 

I own this shirt, and wear it with pride:

I could go on with this love letter to Iowa, but according to the Iowa History Journal, displaying that native sticker on my car makes me a liar. A dirty, filthy liar.

The IHJ's fall issue featured Johnny Carson and exposed him as an (gasp!) Iowan. "In the opinion of the historians, it's where you were born that determines your labeling with regards to states, not where you spent most of your childhood." Editor Mike Chapman

The dictionary agrees:

Although Inwood, Iowa was my first hometown, I was born at Sioux Valley Hospital which is located in Sioux Falls, SD. So, if you believe Mr. Chapman and the dictionary, I'm a native South Dakotan.

(fake sticker design I just threw together)

But I don't want a South Dakotan sticker. It just wouldn't feel right. I'd be like listening to Jewel sing "Sweet Home Alabama". When Daphne and I were discussing moving to another city, one of us mentioned Sioux Falls, South Dakota as an option. Then we both burst out laughing.

Why? First, and foremost, my family lives there. Secondly, I haven't checked in awhile, but I think some school districts are still paying their teachers with pocket lint and meat sticks.

So, I'm staying here and keeping that Iowa sticker where it is. Besides, Charlotte's a native.