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We went to the Chelsea Community Fair last night. This is something we try to do every year not so much for the midway, but to take in the sights, sounds and smells of the animals. Baby chickens, sheep, cows, hogs, horses, and goats. Vincent Van Goat was my favorite. We got smart this year and ate at a local restaurant on our way to the fair instead of consuming copious amounts of greasy, fatty fair foods. You can measure time by the events that punctuate life, and this year Calvin was big enough to ride certain rides by himself, even if he wasn't really interested in doing so.

And every year, after we see the animals and before the colored lights come on that dance and blink and light up the rides, we make our way to the viewing stands to see the demolition derby. Two years ago we took Calvin to see the derby for the first time and ended up leaving early when the loud sounds and disturbing sights made him more than a little nervous. Actually, it was the car that was pushed up on top of one of the concrete barriers that made him feel unsafe, and it was hard to argue with the logic of that assessment through the eyes of a three year old, so we left. By this year he had no memory of that ordeal and, being a little less sensitive to loud sounds and a little more secure in the laws of his own universe, we tried again. This time, like with the bike, he started out nervous, then ended up enjoying himself and we stayed to the not-so-bitter end.

It is in this way that we measure growth and time, is it not?

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