Remember the days when the Show meant a day off school, the smell of cow dung and sugar overdoses? Oh, the joy! These days, I'm more concerned with the traffic jams along Goodwood Road as the bus crawls through the masses in peak hour.
But today, after a long day at work, driving past the Showgrounds was just the spirit lifter I needed! The night sky was lit up by Sideshow Alley and I reflected on fond memories of the Yellow Brick Road, Sticks & Pops showbags, Bertie Beetle and Golden North icecreams in the dairy pavillion.
Not surprisingly, most of my Show memories revolve around food and they stretch back to Mrs Dawson's Year 1 class when some brave volunteer mums took us all to the Show on a school excursion. We were all tied to skipping ropes and wondered through the crowds in groups of four. Food delights included fresh milk straight from the cow, honey in its rawest state and fresh fruit from the growers themselves.
Maybe it's the try-hard country girl coming out in me, or BK's enthusiasm for the demonstration pavillion (think state of the art vegetable peelers, Kiwi bronzers and vibrogyms that make you motion sick) but I'm longing for a trip to the Show. Hmm, perhaps I could reschedule my run with Bree and convince her to join me at the Elders fashion parade, in the grandstand at the horse show, knee deep in hay at the petting zoo or even on the side lines at the woodchopping.
Roll up, roll up!
I've been finding it hard to harness my passion and inspiration lately and feel like I'm treading water in some very rough seas. I haven't been cooking, I haven't had friends over for dinner and I can't remember the last itme I tried a new recipe. My chi is definitely out (just ask Nicole!).
