Ok. More scenes from the fair. This is Sweet Martha's. Her fame stretches far and wide across the state of Minnesota, from Fergus Falls to Taylors Falls, from Okabena to Owatonna. Sweet Martha makes cookies. Good cookies. Chocolate chip cookies! And her stand at the State Fair is as popular as Girasole and Florida during the golden days of yore (if you know what I mean).
This year, my sister asked if I could pick up some cookies for her friend, since I would be at the fair anyway. I got done with a shift early one day, so I walked over and stood in line. A bucket o' cookies costs $14. I had $13 and a bunch of change, most of which was lurking at the bottom of my purse. I stood at the back of the line, scrounging, and before I knew it, I had been closed in from behind. The swarm continued. And I continued to scrounge.
From the deepest recesses of my purse, I pulled penny after penny, my hope renewing with each occasional dime. I searched and searched, and after I had a healthy handful of metal, I counted. I had made it to $13.97. Three cents short.
I up at Martha, at her sign in all it's carnival glory. How Martha? How could you be so cruel? I have stood in your line, naively prostrated myself before your sweet, chocolately scent, only to be rejected? What kind of cookie goddess are you?
While in the "depths of despair" (which our friend Anne Shirley can relate to), I cried out, seeking a dime, a nickel, even a penny from a nearby worshiper. Lo and behold, a lady had a quarter and my dilemma was solved.
Then I ate a cookie, because by the time I got them I had been in line for nearly 45 minutes. And would I be wrong, if I said it was the sweetest cookie of my life? Maybe. But it was good.