Madcap cooking adventures aside, this weekend I broke out the Polaroid Super Shooter with an aging pack of black and white film. I don't share all of my photos (I had an entire post about the Minnesota State Fair that never came to fruition because I couldn't access a scanner until everyone was sick of hearing about SPAMcurds) and this post doesn't contain a necessary reason, so I'll keep it short.
Arlie met the Kaiser at St. Paul's Oktoberfest. Arlie, Etta and I are a part of a meetup group called Dachshunds Making a Difference (whose proceeds benefit the rescue I adopted Etta from, Coast to Coast Dachshund Rescue) and this month, the gang was participated in this Oktoberfest celebration's dachshund races. As the Kaiser announced prior to the race, Oktoberfest is a 201 year old celebration of a marriage that originally held horse races. Since it's pretty difficult to obtain a license for such an event on Rice Street, they went with racing small German dogs.
As for how Arlie did in the races? We came close, which was an upset for me. Arlie was just happy to get the cheese I held for him at the finish line.
After the races, Arlie's pit crew and cheering section crossed the street to dance polka and enjoy authentic Deutsch cuisine (um, a sausage with kraut and pretzel) prepared in food trucks.
When I was not mourning the meal I created for the trip to Amery, WI, my cousin and I went to visit the home that once was our family cabin. My uncle Ross and aunt Mary sold the cabin a few years before Mary passed away in 2009, but the current owners didn't mind (a.k.a. were not home) that we explored the grounds. It seemed so unfamiliar. All the danger was missing as the deck, dock and stairs have been replaced with modern materials. How are you suppose to get a splinter to go with your horsefly bite? The house is brown instead of rust and the neighboring shack has been demolished to be an empty lot. Oh well, all's fair in love and real estate, but one thing didn't change:
Lake Wapogasset still looks like all my favorite memories from the original Parent Trap. And autumn is a such a funny season when you live in a climate doomed to six solid months of winter. It's a time where people are holding onto summer with their right hand while premeditively bringing along the winter coat in their left. But so is spring. The lake was missing the speed boats and pontoons, but docks still dabbled at the water's edge, hoping tomorrow will be another of these indian summer days. I didn't spend much of autumn in Amery, WI growing up. It was a summer tradition, but it seemed appropriate to say goodbye to the old cabin on a day like this.
One final note: thank you Phineas and William, BBDO's ever trusty receptionists, for scanning my photos.