Yankee Peddler

A person didn't have to live in Canal Fulton very long back in the day to hear about Yankee Peddler.  The church had found a great way to make some money in two weekends' time.

The imploring of our priest to help also didn't take too long to make an impression.  It was a huge load for whichever couple or family took on the work to lead the event, and many, many hours of volunteering were necessary to pull it off.

The first time I wore my outfit -- I just saw it yesterday in the attic when I was retrieving the fall décor -- I felt like an idiot.  Driving in my unairconditioned car towards the festival on Rt. 93 across Rt. 21 with my skirt bunching around my ankles and one sandaled foot sticking out to touch the gas and brake, it was weird.

Some people thrive on dressing up for Halloween.  I was never one of them, loved watching other people do their thing but I didn't feel the urge.  In college, my roommate dressed as a witch and I'll tell you what -- with some green eye shadow, a fake wart on her nose and a wide-brimmed black hat she made quite an entrance.  Scared the little kids half to death unfortunately.  We just didn't see that coming at all.  Another resident of our dormitory only this time on the guy side, one friend borrowed a set of dentures that his roommate brought to school (his dad was a dentist) and he reversed them.  The top teeth went on the bottom and the bottom ones on the top creating the strangest caveman, Neanderthal look I've ever seen to this day.  And when he came knocking during trick or treat, he scared US half to death.

So here I am in the car going down Rt. 93.  When I parked the car and started walking towards the festival, it just seemed like once there, I would be the only one wearing a costume.  You know, the I-forgot-my-clothes dream that we sometimes have.  That was not the case.  There were "pioneers" all over the place and the festival grounds didn't look anything like Clay's Park.  We weren't anywhere near the swimming area and instead to my amazement the whole thing was tucked in and around the woodlands.  There were paths and directional signs, crazy names like Hoot Owl Roost, and booths that looked like someone might actually live there.

Then when the two weekends were such a huge hit, the Peddler added a third and our church really scrambled for more volunteers.  Apparently, in order to decide the ultimate time for a festival such as Peddler, the festival folks had consulted the weather experts and had determined that the first two weekends in September after Labor Day were the best in terms of temperature and less rain.  When adding the third, they took a bit of a chance, and indeed, there was many a soggy Saturday or Sunday.

The sights, smells and friendliness of Peddler took me in and allayed all of my fears.  I didn't look odd at all and in fact, fit right in even up to my hat.

It was yet another time to step out of one's comfort zone and try something different. 

My husband doesn't feel quite the same way about the Peddler these days as he labors on Friday, Saturday and Sunday in order to make the signature soup/stew that the Lions serve up.  He's getting older and the demands of the work weigh him down.  I'll probably help on Saturday to give him a little break.  And now instead of the priest, he is imploring his younger fellow Lions to donate a few more hours to give the old guys a bit of a break.

So that's about it for today.  I just glimpsed another scene from the past Peddler days.  Apple peeling.  The social hall was set up with the big tables and there was painters' plastic spread all over the floor.  The "peelers" sat at the ends of the tables with the old cranking apple peelers.  Then there were people who cored and sliced the apples with one of those metal devices.  And finally, those who cut off any remaining skin and also cut slices that were too big.  Too big and the apple didn't cook all the way through during the high temperature frying process.

Memories, that's what you get for your work, memories.  And they might fade a little but just take a few moments and you can see it all over again.

Take care and enjoy this time of year.  Talk to you tomorrow.