Mr. Jackson

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Friday, August 17, 2007

And the WINNER is...

Well, we don't know yet. We will find out tonight; however, we know that Travis was not the Grand Champion. They would have called us last night after nine. We waited up until 12, but no call. I'm just kidding. We didn't wait up. Wouldn't that be pitiful? I don't have the pictures up yet of the pie and its delivery to the fair, but alas...they are coming soon. Let me just say that I was sooooo nervous delivering this thing. I almost buckled it in my car. I could just see myself getting into a car accident and missing the 6pm deadline, and there are NO ACCEPTIONS to the deadline. The website stated that in bold print, and after meeting one of the members of the Board of Directors, I know that ain't no lie! She greeted me in the East/West building where the culinary competition was to be held. The name says it all.... the East/West building...yeah, I couldn't find it on my own. I had to go to the fair office, and they seemed a little stressed! I tried to sound as southern as I possibly could. Being from the Deep South myself, I know how territorial these folks can be. Who does that thing think she is entering our contest? I could hear their thoughts and my palms were sweating in response or maybe it was the 105-degree temperature. Pretty sure it was a mix of nerves and heat. So I finally made it to the East/West building and the fore mentioned member of the board greets me. They are high tech at the fair. You have to have bar codes on all your entries, which I did not. After this not so friendly liaison of the fair printed my bar codes, I headed to the next table to class V – the pie section. Only 3 other people had entered the apple pie contest as of 5:20 pm. 40 minutes and counting. NO ACCEPTIONS at 6pm. Surely we will at least get honorable mention, but you know how political these things can be. They have our address, so they may pull up our voting records, who knows! I told them that the entry, which I had a little trouble removing from the Tupperware Fort Knox that I had created, was my husbands…. do you know what she said? “I could tell.” Hold up, wait a minute. I know she didn’t just say that. I helped and crafted a lovely capital W out of dough, which was cooked to a golden brown sitting atop our apple creation. If my palms hadn’t been so sweaty already, I might have balled them into a fist and given her the business. But, I knew it was neither the time nor the place, and I was out numbered with no one in my corner. I might talk slow, but I’m not stupid! So I went along on my merry way. We’ll be back next year, though…win or lose. Watch out the Wolfes will be back! So, off to the fair we go tonight to find out our fait in the culinary competition. I’m not even sure that the Barefoot Contessa would have a chance out there. On a side note, we’ve already discussed that we will not try to win another goldfish this year. Last year Travis won a goldfish for me that lasted all of 4 days. I went over to ask my 11 year old neighbor to feed it while we were gone for the weekend, and when I stepped back into the house, Pickle Wolfe - the goldfish was swimming upside down and he wasn’t doing the back stroke. Jess, my neighbor, didn’t believe me when I traipsed back over to tell her I wouldn’t be needing her services. Would I really lie about a dead goldfish? To explain the name choice, Pickle, in case you were wondering…. we decided to name it after the Carney who was working the booth.


Travis: “what’s your name? We want to name our fish after you.”

Carney: “Pickle’s what they call me.”

Travis: “Well, Pickle, meet Pickle the fish. Have a good night.”

Carney: “Don’t let him die.”

Famous last words…Carney fish are notoriously weak species. We will be on the hunt for Pickle tonight….the Carney, not the fish.

3 comments:

Amanda said...

GOOD LUCK TRAVIS!!! i hope you win something!

MP was telling Mackenzie today about making the pie with you...and about the RUM LAURETTE!!! SHAME ON YOU!

Love, Manny

Anna said...

"If my palms hadn’t been so sweaty already, I might have balled them into a fist and given her the business."

This was my favorite line of the post. Oh, Laurette, how I miss you so!

Travis, I am most definitely sure that your pie was the tastiest. I don't care what those rude judges in the East/West building thought. Who names a building after 2 opposite directions anyway? What a bunch of weirdos.

Little Daddy said...

I agree with Anna -- the pie had to be the best, and I am sure that the contest was fixed. Old ladies who have been making pies for years are not going to let some upstart invade their territory and walk off with a blue ribbon.

Next year will be different -- the judges are going to have to award for taste, and we know the rum makes the difference.

Now Laurette, you must be careful about teaching my granddaughter about alcohol -- you know MP will tell all.