My
anti-dusting stance has recently infiltrated my discriminatory shopping
selections as I now actively abstain from purchasing “knick-knacks.” I also shy
away from areas with randomly milling crowds as I tend to respond by flapping
my hands furiously and breathing like Darth Vader to postpone the inevitable
claustrophobic panic attack. And bees...? They must “comb” the airwaves for the latest
“buzz” on Apple-Umpkin because those flying missiles are always there. So, given that she can’t handle crowds,
collectables, or creepy, crawly bugs, one might wonder why Amy Mosiman would
voluntarily attend the annual Apple-Umpkin Festival in Wyoming .
Ok, I admit it. Apple-Umpkin is
fun and, after its over-twenty year reign, the event ushers in the season of
autumn as effectively as a flock of honking geese.
I attended
this year’s festival in the company of six teen-agers. I tell you this so that you will feel sorry
for me right away. Upon arrival, we were
offered a free kitten to off-set the five dollar parking fee. Generous as this promotion seemed, we gently
declined the non-declawed feline and proceeded to browse Main Street , Wyoming
The Wyoming
Village Reception Hall hosted an antique show where I discovered a collection
of small gnome figurines. I know this
breaks my new “knick-knack” rule but I have been spending the last few months
terrorizing my dear friend Deb by sneaking suspicious items into her
flowerbed. The collection of used baby
shoes that mysteriously appeared a few months ago almost drove her insane. Her Google research led her to believe that
she might be the victim of a voo doo curse so I felt it was time to up the ante
and what could be more frightening than a gnome? Four dollars a pop seemed a tad excessive but
Meghan came through as she pointed out one with a chip on his nose. “You should be able to get a deal on that
one,” she said encouragingly. I marched
up to the vendor with my two dollars and showed him the flaw. He inspected the gnome as though it were the
Hope Diamond, shaking his head, and replying, “I couldn’t possibly. I can’t even abide with the idea selling the
set by piece.” I felt terrible to be
responsible for splitting up the gnome family but I had a voo doo curse to
perform so I countered by offering another dollar. The vendor looked painfully offended but said
he had mouths to feed at home and so accepted my ludicrous deal. Meghan’s boyfriend, Clay, bought barbeque
sauce for the same price and tried bragging that his enjoyment would supersede
mine, dollar for dollar. Obviously, his
youth clouds his judgment when it has to do with garden stalking and the mental
manipulation of your closest friends.
Sitting on
the spacious side porch of the art gallery adjoining the Hall, our group
watched in rapt fascination and horror as black walnuts plummeted from the
trees onto the parked cars below.
Whoomp! A small sign invited
musicians to enjoy the porch as a practice area so I led my group in a rousing
rendition of Tanya Tucker’s, “There’s a tree…out in the backyard.” Alright, you guessed it; I sang a lonely solo
which was punctuated perfectly by percussion-based “whoomps!” I also
received no pity regarding my bee sting because “it didn’t leave a mark.” We completed our Apple-Umpkin fun with
samples of caramel-apple pie fudge and fresh-squeezed “diet” lemonade. Not all accidents result in innovative
inventions. Penicillin and gun powder
may be the exceptions because the inadvertent lack of sugar in my lemonade did
nothing but leave a sour taste in my mouth.
Fortunately, the heat of that warm September day had everyone in my
group begging for a sip and the look on their faces made the purchase
completely worth it. So if the traffic,
the crowds, the bees, and the search for collectable treasures puts a sour look
on your face, take heart. Four free
kittens found a home on Sunday and as a result, five dollar parking looked like
the deal of a century! It’s all about
perspective.
as published in Warsaw's Country Courier
