So a few weeks ago was the Cotton District Festival here in Starkville, MS. It was held just a bit earlier than usual this year, because the last few years have been so extremely hot that particular day that we were down in numbers, the vendors were down in sales, and it just wasn't quite as much fun as it had been.
This year, Cotton District Fest morn dawned a bit chilly, overcast, and windy. Which was a nice change of pace, til I realized that the wind was blowing and tearing the sheets from the pads of paper at the writers' booth, making it a nuisance to flip back a few pages to read what others had written, what with having to remove the weighted water bottles first. So altho we had a nice turnout, it wasn't a huge success.
But most of the other booths seemed to be having a fair number of folks visiting, which was great as far as the festival as a whole goes. The stands that had the longest lines appeared to be the food booths, especially those serving piping hot plates of bbq, pulled pork, chicken, ribs, jambalaya, shrimp skewers, etc. The ice shacks and sno~cone vendors were not so happy cuz folks were shivering enough as is and didn't need cooling down.
It was crowded, with families and children and dogs on leashes. Great fun! At one point tho, I was hustling to the secure a limerick from being tossed to the wind when I turned my ankle. I stifled a few explosive curses, which probably made me look as tho I were in even more pain. The guy that caught me practically carried me over to a chair, the entire time saying, "coming thru, she's hurt, coming thru"; which was sweet, but not accurate, as I think by that time the pain was diminishing, tho my ankle was swelling.
A fellow writer who is very creative and very good at being the social liaison for the writers group jumped into action and rushed over to the first aid tent, which had ice, but no bags to put it in. The fireman leaped to her aid tho and produced a rubber glove to fill with ice and charged over to the booth where I was propping my foot up to keep the ankle from swelling further. He asked repeatedly, "an ambulance? should I call the ambulance thru?" no, No, NO.
However, a few of us came up with a limerick which captured the experience; but damned if I can remember it...but I do know that there was something about ice in a rubber glove and the fireman showing love and time flying like a dove. There were even two or three young girls who dropped by to help finish the limerick. So happy to help, by providing the incident to write about.