This post is late because I intended to write about an adventure scheduled for this weekend. Every September in Maine, a magnificent event is held on the rural outskirts of Unity called the Common Ground Fair. It is a celebration of growth and harvest, supported by the Maine Organic Farmers and Growers Association, the nation’s largest organic farming organization—and attendance at the 3-day event typically approaches 70,000 visitors. This year is the 50th Anniversary. It is a delicious step back into an earlier, earthier time, and events include awards for prize fruits, vegetables, pies, and other homemade delectables. Demonstrations include sheep herding and shearing, oxen pulls, country dancing to live fiddling, fine arts and crafts for sale, and hundreds of vendors, makers, and merchants of handmade goods of all sorts. There are speakers and bands, as well as peaceful political, humanitarian, and agricultural activists and awareness groups—truly something for everyone and an annual celebration highly anticipated throughout Maine and well beyond. It is a cornucopia of sights, sounds, and mouthwatering smells, and a place where, no matter who you are or what floats your boat, you can find kinship and lively conversation, and abundant opportunities to learn something new. It is a joyful explosion of diversity.
I have made day trips to the event for many years, though it is a bit of a slow slog in stop-and-start traffic because of the sheer number of cars heading to the same destination. This year, I found camping space in a farmer’s unplanted field, only a mile from the gate, and a chance to give my A-frame pop-up an airing out.
I bought this gem in 2020—the first summer of COVID—and it saved my sanity when social distancing, masking up, and isolation were the name of the game. Its lightweight simplicity made it a breeze for this older gal to use solo (except for the backing-in, but that’s a story for another day, maybe). I have not used it as much as I had hoped, so I was very eager to take it to the fair.
To my total disappointment, the trip turned out to be a bust. Shortly after arrival, the heater fan began making a very loud, terrifying noise (think jet engine) before stopping altogether. The next issue was the water pump (I assume), which prevented me from using the sink, giving water to my Luna, or, worst of all, making coffee! Luna and I spent the night huddled under not nearly enough blankets for the low 40s, without heat, water, or hope of a quick fix. I knew I had to head home in the morning before the wheels could fall off or another calamity claimed the day. We made the return trip with no additional casualties except for the disappointment of missing out on the fair.
Lesson learned here: If you leave the “gifts” in your life dormant or underused, they can deteriorate and you won’t reap the bounty of the blessings they offer. Even as I write this, part of me isn’t using my personal tools (gifts) to create the life I want for myself and to share with others. I find myself still waiting for my true life to start, knowing that one day I will run out of time.
If you have been stuck in a similar, seemingly invisible personal mire, I would love to hear how you finally found your way out in the reply box below.
Thank you for reading. Wishing you courage, clarity, and momentum until next time,
Carolynn
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