A Day of Labor?

Labor Day.  The first Monday in September.  Yep. That it is.

As a little girl in Mahoning County, Ohio, I knew that Labor Day was synonymous with the Canfield Fair.  Beginning on the Thursday before Labor Day and ending on Monday, the fair was always the signal for the end of the summer and the beginning of the new school year.   Even then I knew that the day after Labor Day was "Teacher Work Day" and we students would have our first day on Wednesday.

The Canfield Fair is where my first 4-H projects were exhibited.  Since I received a champion ribbon for my skirt during my second year, I rode on the hay wagon reserved for all of the project champions through the fairgrounds.  Also Dad always worked at the Ruritan food tent and I remember working at a church tent once, serving those little square boxes of drinks to people who sat at very long tables on rickety wooden chairs.  One year before we moved to Mt. Vernon, Grandpa Wilbur and Grandma Greta took me to the races in the grandstand.  A man sitting behind us asked me to pick the winning horses---and I did!  I am not sure of the criteria I used for my selections, but they were good ones evidently! I also remember that Dad gave me an amount of money to spend while I was at the fair with my grandparents.  With it I bought something for Greta, something for Mom, and a little brown pair of boxing gloves for Dad.  I am not sure why I picked that out for him, but he acted like he loved it and had it on his dresser for years.  Then he told me he kept it in his drawer.  After he died, I looked for that little brown pair of boxing gloves in the drawers of the chest, but I couldn't find them.  I hope they turn up someday.

Yesterday cousin Kim and her husband Mike went to the Canfield Fair and she posted this picture on Facebook.  And you know what?  Since I am now retired, maybe next year I can show Gary what a great fair the we had when I was growing up!

Over the years Labor Day evolved into not just the last holiday of summer, but the last break before we would settle into the routine of the fall semester.  From going to school in Mt. Vernon for 6 years and their late August start, to four years of classes at Indiana State, to teaching for 33 years at West Central, and finally teaching for 10 years at Ivy Tech, the Labor Day weekend was the 'last hurrah' before the weeks became regular and regimented with no breaks before Thanksgiving.  Summer was done.  Over.  Finished.

Labor Day 2016 saw Gary and me doing something different.  We celebrated Owen's first birthday yesterday.  Today we helped Blaine load his Grandpa Yaggie's Moline tractor onto the trailer and take it to their house so he can begin the restoration process.  Landon is SO excited, but his excitement equals his dad's enthusiasm.

 Then Hilary and I started on cutting up tomatoes and onions, then Blaine and Gary helped us finish the salsa making and I canned 18 pints of the hot stuff.

No routine for me to begin again tomorrow because there is no fall semester for me. My perception of the holiday will slowly change.

Labor Day.  The last holiday weekend of summer.