FAIR DAYS

 by Korina Moss

September always puts me in the mood for a fair. I’ve been going to the Eastern States Exposition, better known as The Big E, in Massachusetts for 20 years. It’s an agricultural fair and then some, celebrating all things New England and takes place for 17 days in mid-September. 

I love the vibe of a fair: Watching happy people carrying large stuffed animal prizes on their shoulders, eating anything on a stick, and buying items that seem like “must buys” in the moment; the rhythm of the crowd noise punctuated by screams of teenagers on thrill rides and the bells and whistles of midway games; the quieter stalls of farm animals, giant pumpkins, and ribbon-winning pies, produce, and quilts; and the comingling aromas of cotton candy, kettle corn, smoked meats, and fried foods. Together, they create the cozy comforts of a fair—a perfect locale for a cozy mystery. 

Thus, it’s no surprise that I took a lot of inspiration from my love of the fair for my fifth Cheese Shop Mystery, Fondue or Die, which takes place at the Dairy Days festival. I pulled some of the dairy aspects of The Big E and incorporated them into my festival— the butter sculpture and the cows, goats, and sheep, as well as foods like milkshakes, poutine (fries topped with cheese curds and gravy), and mac and cheese in a bread cone. The Big E’s dairy judging turned into a cow parade for my fictional festival, and I added games like cow chip bingo and a musical udders contest (fake udders, of course). The festival’s Miss Dairy pageant was also my own idea. I think the chaos and slightly farcical nature of an outdated competition like this with, nonetheless, high stakes, make for a good mystery setting. 

Butter sculpture in progress

The best part of writing Fondue or Die was getting to spend so much time in my imagination at the fair. The worst part was no access to fair foods. My imagination apparently cannot adequately satisfy my craving for fried Oreos. 

What’s your favorite part of the fair? Give a shout-out to your favorite fair or festival. 

KORINA MOSS is the author of the Cheese Shop Mystery series set in the Sonoma Valley, including the Agatha Award winner for Best First Novel, Cheddar Off Dead and the Agatha Award finalist for Best Contemporary Novel, Case of the Bleus. Her books have been featured in USA Today, PARADE Magazine, Woman’s World, AARP, and Fresh Fiction. Her 5th book, Fondue or Die, releases on October 22nd. To learn more and preorder, visit her website korinamossauthor.com. 

Finally Fall! by Nancy Eady

          Some of you may remember last month’s blog where I discussed the insufferable heat wave we were experiencing in late September. (https://writerswhokill.blogspot.com/2019/09/its-hot-yall-by-nancy-eady.html). The heat wave continued through the middle of this month, but it has finally broken and we have reached fall.

Oak Mountain State Park

          Fall is one of my favorite seasons in Alabama. The leaves in middle through north Alabama do change, but not at all once. In the Northeast, fall causes a brilliant explosion of color that lasts for a couple of weeks, and then is gone. Down here, the trees transition more gently, hues of green slowly transitioning to reds, oranges and yellows. The fall color lasts longer, too. We will still have patches of trees waving with color in November, and it will be December before most of the trees are bare.

Oak Mountain State Park

 

         This morning, another fall phenomenon appeared – morning fog. I like the mystery fog brings to the otherwise normal routine of driving to work. The mist swirls in front of my car, sometimes clearing to let me see several car lengths ahead, sometime closing in to make me feel like an explorer faring forth into an unknown void. Then, as the sun comes up, the fog slowly lifts until the way in front is clear. If I’m lucky, I’ll hit the bridge over the lake I cross every day just in time to be able to see the fog lifting off of the water, another mysterious sight.

          When my daughter was little, I would tell her a story about the fog – the fog was made of confused clouds who came to rest on the earth rather than float in the sky, and as Mr. Sun rose, he reminded the clouds where they were supposed to be. She loved that story, as well as the one about Ms. Moon coming out in the daytime to talk to Mr. Sun, whenever it was daytime but the moon could still be seen. Looking back, Mr. Sun was doing a lot of talking!

Oak Mountain State Park

     

     What is your favorite season?  Do you like fall?  What about fall do you like best? 

It's Hot, Y'all! by Nancy Eady

This past Saturday in Montgomery, Alabama the temperature reached at least 95 degrees. On September 28, six days after the official start of fall. I am formally registering a protest with the Weather-Powers-That-Be as soon as I find out who they are. I get that I live in a state known for its heat and humidity in the summer and that summer extends from late May through early September, but at this point in the calendar, even here in Alabama, we’re entitled to lower temperatures. Nothing drastic, mind you, just temperatures topping out in the mid-80’s instead of the mid-90s. A little less humidity would be nice, too, but I’m trying not to be greedy. And to add insult to injury, apparently Yellowstone is being treated to an early snow storm!

I know for a fact that we hit at least 95 degrees yesterday because I took my daughter and her friend to the Montgomery Zoo. It was by far the worst trip we ever took to a zoo we enjoy.

I think the lions had the best idea—the two lions, one male and one female— found a shady spot in their enclosure and sprawled out sleeping, the male one lying on his back. Other animals looked at the people passing by and you could just tell they thought we were idiots to be out in the heat. I was tempted to agree with them.

The fashion industry runs on a colder clime’s schedule. This is unfortunate, since few of us are in the mood to buy winter coats, wool long-sleeved sweaters and mittens when it’s in the mid-90s outside. Now if they were selling swimsuits, shorts and short-sleeved shirts and T-shirts, that would be another story. I keep waiting for a fashion designer to discover this, but they haven’t so far.

So please do me a favor, if you’re somewhere with more seasonal weather—step outside, take a deep breath of the crisp air, view the deep blue autumnal sky and send prayers and good thoughts our way for your weather to arrive down here soon.

Spider-Lilies and Serendipity by Nancy L. Eady

Spider-lilies: 

Lycoris radiata. Other common names include “British Soldiers,” “Equinox Flower,” “Guernsey Lilies” and “Surprise Lilies.”  A member of the amaryllis family that blooms in early fall in the southern United States.

Serendipity:        

n. 1. an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident; 2. good fortune; luck.

Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary, Random House (2001).

In Alabama, most of our flowers bloom in the springtime. Nothing can beat the spring explosion of color in our area of the country, especially in those rare years when the weather and climate coincide to allow everything to burst into bloom at once. After spring, the splashes of color become rare enough that the few flowers making them stand out. The most striking of these outliers is the spider-lily, which technically is neither a spider nor a lily, but a member of the amaryllis family. 

As a writer, I like words, including multi-syllabic words I can play with. “Serendipity” is one of those words. It has a happy ring to it, fitting since the ideas of good fortune and pleasant surprises are intricately intertwined with its meaning. 

You wouldn’t think that serendipity and spider-lilies have much to do with other, but they do. Spider-lilies distill the essence of serendipity. Spider-lilies pop up unexpectedly during the months of September and October wherever one of their bulbs happens to have migrated, and always in groups. Unlike most flowers, spider-lilies tend not to be planted deliberately by gardeners seeking fall color, at least not in Alabama. They just happen. 

A day or two after a good rain in early fall, the flowers spring up from nowhere at odd spots to grace a road side, the edge of a forest, an abandoned yard, a derelict building. Even the spider-lilies that have the temerity to pop up on lawns mowed regularly on Saturdays manage a few days of glory mid-week and still show up year after year after year, never quite when you expect them and never quite where you remember them being the year before.

Whether I’m driving to work or headed out on an errand, I experience a rush of joy when I pass a formerly unadorned strip of road side that has, overnight, sprouted rows or clumps of these gorgeous red flowers. I can’t predict where they’ll be or when I’ll see them, but I’m always happy when I do. 

And that’s why spider-lilies look like serendipity.