A Dog an' a Cob

Heritage Day in Downtown Deltaville 2010

First came a Little Red Engine

We were warned.  A Chesapeake duster** strikes with force late afternoons on the hottest of days.  So too it was that the Deltaville Heritage Day Parade (celebrating 4^th July) swept into town.  Where did all these people come from?  The roads were so busy, we had to have traffic and pedestrian control; State Troopers, Local Sheriffs and even the Coast Guard came. The whole shebang... 

Then we raced a couple of crabs

The day started early with a nautical flea market (Cap’n Frugal bagged a few bargains) before we biked to the Art & Food Market to become involved in the heady atmosphere of Crab Races.  Kids were paired with feisty blue swimmers and given spray bottles of water.  The atmosphere was electric.  And a good few crabs survived although they were not expected to participate in the afternoon's scheduled parade.  (Someone had a steamroom bath already drawn for them.)

Friendly firemen in big red trucks led an advance guard.  Miss Spat and Miss Oyster candidates sat on the back of comfortable convertibles.  Others were towed by their mums in decorated pull-along wagons.  Boys and girls marched and gymnasts leapt about despite the heat.  Clowns posed for happy holiday snaps and buggies, dangerously overloaded with balloons and sweets shared them liberally with little (and big) kids.  Old cars, new cars, enviro cars and bat mobiles edged along Route 33 with unaccustomed reserve.  It still sounded like a tank invasion.

And a Gaitor blowin' bubbles came by

By far the largest representation was from ACCA Shriners, a large troupe of Masons who support children’s hospitals.  Their membership had precision driving teams of go-karts, motor bikes, bright orange clown cars and even bubble blowing 'gators - all worthy of Edinburgh Military Tattoo performances.  These guys take their community support role very seriously but even so manage to enjoy themselves. 

Hey Dad...want one?

After the parade, we headed for the dog and cob stand to try some local fine dining.  The dog cost $1.50 and GS had ketchup.  But where were the onions, hmmm?  The Galley Slave also picked up some farm-fresh peaches and corn for later, then roved an (experienced?) eye over too many garage-sale tables in search of a treasure she could sneak on board. 

Antique Tractors rolled by

We followed the crowd to a baseball game scheduled to “play ball” in a vintage 1940’s ball park shrouded in chicken wire netting pocked with ball impressions.  Don’t sit behind the pitcher!  Cap’n Rowdy showed the reserved locals a thing or two about barracking for your team, a-la rugby style.  I’m not sure Rudy (on the opposition’s team) appreciated being told his mother drives a truck! 

We all love a big old car

Watched a ball game in a 1940's stadium

Despite such fantastic support, the home team, the Delta’s, lost.  After the game, the really old & bolds were paraded out before the crowds for a batting demonstration.  Some of them should have been invited back to play in the home team (especially those who hit balls outside the ground!).

Supported the local team from the bleachers

And finally, waited in the cemetery (in the dark) for fireworks 

Behind the ball park the crowd gathered for 9pm fireworks and were a trifle fidgety.  Fireworks had been delayed by at least an hour while the winning baseball team kept hitting ‘em home.  It wouldn’t have been so bad, except the parking lot/picnic spot for the fireworks was the local cemetery.  “Pull up a pew.  Oh sorry, that’s someone’s gravestone!” 

We rode home in the dark in time to watch the fireworks from our floating home (and to eat real food).  Indeed fireworks erupted around the Creek and all over nearby Gwyn Island.  It was some show.  A celebration of independence; a hazy memory of a war-torn land, and a show of national pride.  Everyone joined in!

**A Chesapeake duster is like our Southerly buster