My summer vacation, Part One

Ah, for the days when summer vacation was all summer. Except, not really, because that was either while I was in school, which I didn't really like from grade 5 through high school, or when I was teaching school, which triggered depression so severe that I needed a full summer to recover.

Anyway, this summer vacation is just a vacation that happens to take place during summer, specifically the last couple weeks of August. I guess I'm about halfway through it.

The first thing was that my sister came to visit. She stayed four days, and we went to the Fair, had coffee with a dear cousin and a dear sister-in-law, went to a family reunion (dear aunts, uncles, and cousins, and cousins once or twice removed), had coffee with a dear aunt who couldn't make the reunion, and had dinner with a dear niece and her dear children and, again, our dear sister-in-law.

The Fair

The Northwest Washington Fair takes place in my home town, Lynden, Washington. The first time I went to this Fair was probably in 1971, when my mom and my siblings and I were living in Lynden while my dad was serving in Viet Nam. At that age (about 10), I was mostly interested in going on rides. I am fortunate in that I don't believe I have ever had motion sickness under any circumstances. I loved rides that spun you around and made you dizzy. (I liked to be dizzy when I was a child. When I visited my dad's office, I would spin around in his desk chair until I worked up some serious vertigo.) I earned money for the Fair by doing household tasks to which my mom had attached prices such as a nickel, a dime, and a quarter. She had a list of them, and if I did one I could claim my reward.

Now I'm older. I earn money by working in an office. I no longer seek out dizziness as a pleasure. There is just one ride I want to go on at the Fair, and that is the Ferris Wheel. My sister and I did go on it, but that was the last thing we did at the Fair.

First, we ate poffertjes. These are a Dutch food, made from batter poured into the indentations of a specialized poffertje griddle. The person making them flips each one over with a fork, so both sides get done.



As their name implies, they are puffy. The Lynden Dutch Bakery serves their poffertjes with some buttery frosting (or some sweetened butter; I don't know which is the correct description) that is truly delicious.



These pictures of poffertjes come from the Dutch Bakery's Facebook page, although I cropped them.

Here is a selfie of our happy faces when we ate poffertjes:



That is Part One of my story. I have a long story with little content. I remind myself of my mom, who worked on her autobiography for years probably, and would comment on her progress: "I'm up to my baptism." FYI, we practice infant baptism in our denomination.