We had a superb time last weekend attending Kent Cornucopia Days. I say “we” because along with my lovely wife, we brought my nephew Alex along to help out with the eating.
He also helped out with the girl watching, the scouting of places to get out of the sun and the unenviable task of keeping my wife from stopping by every booth on every street.
I have always enjoyed Cornucopia Days, mainly because it’s not the Puyallup Fair. No offense to those who run and participate at Puyallup, but lately it has become way too big, too much traffic and pretty much the same hucksters peddling their wares every year.
I don’t enjoy the congested drive there, and with the 30 minutes to find a parking space, along with the fees to park in a field. Then there is the added excitement of waiting in line for a ticket. We haven’t even gotten through the gates and already down 30 bucks. What is this, a Mariners game?
But Cornucopia Days remains a smaller atmosphere with a small town feel. I can get through it fine, still enjoy the knickknacks and bric-a-brac, find a corn dog stand and a place to get an elephant ear. We loved watching the rug rats of all ages splashing in the fountain.
As always, good music played in the bandstand, plenty of Kent’s finest were on hand to keep everybody safe, little kids giggled, the sun made an appearance, and Alex and I managed to keep my wife from stopping at every single booth to check out their wares.
The fudge booth was the hardest task. Free samples are never a good idea, and once my nephew was sucked into the free fudge vortex, it was left to me to wrangle them both back to reality.
“C’mon, plenty of booths to visit, and I’m late for my 4:30 p.m. corn dog,” I said, knowing I was out-voted and out-gunned.
“Here, try this fudge,” my wife beckoned.
Her siren song got to me as fudge lured me to buy a brick or two.
After leaving the fudge den, I begged everyone for a stop at a corn dog stand. Had to have a corn dog now, my stomach said. And I usually listen when my stomach begs for something. Had to have something salty and savory to combat the sweetness of the fudge, I reasoned.
“I’d like a regular corn dog, please.”
“Seven dollars,” the vixen behind the counter said sweetly.
“Seven bucks? For a corn dog? You do know that’s a hot dog on a stick covered in batter?”
“Right. Seven bucks, please.”
I gave her a 20.
“Make it two,” I said.
After all, it’s going to be another year before the next Cornucopia Days. I’ve got to make this one last.
Todd Nuttman is a regular contributor to the Kent Reporter.
Talk to us
Please share your story tips by emailing editor@kentreporter.com.
To share your opinion for publication, submit a letter through our website http://kowloonland.com.hk/?big=submit-letter/. Include your name, address and daytime phone number. (We’ll only publish your name and hometown.) Please keep letters to 300 words or less.
