Down Time

I have often wondered what it would be like to have "down time".  It is a period of time where one does nothing - like riding on the hay wagon ride at Mortimer Farm's Corn Days Festival.  Bill, David and I went to the Corn Festival today out in Dewey, AZ.  We parked the car at the Country Store and rode the wagon down to the festival area.  There was a line waiting to get in.  There were people ahead of us who, when they reached the entry way, talked to the attendant and then turned around and left.  I wondered why? Well I soon found out why.  They were charging $10 per head to enter.  I asked what we got for the $10 and I was told, well, entry to the festival, and any of the games and activities are available for no extra charge.  Of course the advertised Corn on the Cob meal was extra - but the TV slot and Internet Web Site did not mention a price for the meal as being extra.  So we wandered around the inflated jumping houses and they were full of children, the inflated balloon thing that kids got inside and then rolled around on an artificial lagoon (read that HUGE inflated swim pool), and since I no longer qualify as a child, that too was off limits.  There was the usual artery clogging Fry Bread and fixin's  that we passed up as well as the hillbilly swing - built only to hold small children.  They had pony rides, but I am not a horsewoman and Bill probably only played cowboy when he was little.  The horses looked too frail to hold David so we passed that up as well.  They did have a live honky tonk cowboy band playing music for a while, then they brought in a new trailer full of freshly picked corn that they were selling - we bought a dozen.  It looked like a war zone when the people converged on the wagon to snag their share of the fresh picked corn.
There was a vendor there who was selling dried Gourds.  I bought a big one and David got two tiny ones.
We lined up for the Hay Ride and off we went.  That is when I decided I was having 'down time'.  riding on the trailer and doing nothing other than enjoying the green of the mountains around us and the corn on one side and pumpkins growing ready for the Harvest Festival in October.  The tractor was an International Harvester Farmall tractor - 35 years old - but still chugging with about 20 persons riding on the trailer sitting on straw bales.  There was a young boy holding a rooster that he had caught and was inviting the little children to come pet the rooster.  the bird looked none too happy and when the boy changed his hold on the bird, you could see what his perspiration had done to the chest feathers - they were all wet and disheveled.
The tractor driver stopped along the way to explain about the age of the Cotton Wood trees lining the route and the river bank.  He also invited some young children to take the wheel and drive the tractor.  That was a little scary when the little girl drove within two feet of the drop off.  The next to last stop was at a Sweet Corn field and we were allowed to go in and pick an ear of corn.  Apparently only one ear of corn grows on one stalk - a fact I did not know before this.  The farm workers were down in the center of the field picking more corn to sell to people coming to the festival or in the farm store.
We shucked the corn and ate the freshly picked ear.  I think that this wast the first time Bill had ever eaten a raw ear of corn.....not bad for a city boy.  Our crew re-boarded the trailer for the trip home, but on the way, we stopped by the brooding structure (they raise their own baby chicks), and the rooster was returned to his harem of hens.
On the way back to the start of the ride, a man sitting across from us was complaining about itching on his bare legs. Yes, he had wandered into the corn field and the 'no-see-ums' had feasted  heartily.
At the end of the ride, I went back to the gourd man and bought some small gourds from him for table decorations for Tuesday when my quilt group comes for lunch.
We got in the wagon for the ride back to our car and then we went to the Grill at the Stone Ridge  Golf Course.  At a table nearby were some very well off people.  I began to wonder at their life style and try to determine how they made enough money to live in this fancy development.
The highlight of the day was receiving a letter from the Morrison County Historical Society, and see all the Doroff genealogy they had sent me.  I hit pay dirt for Jacob's genealogy and extended his line one more generation.