Mischief.

October 21, Republic.

When I woke up from a nap yesterday next to Dylan, ages before I realized he was seriously sick, all I saw was the chocolate smears around his mouth. Apparently he had gotten up during our nap and opened the fridge (new, he couldn't do it by himself before) to take one of my bars of dark chocolate out.
We found it on the counter top bitten at both ends, the mischief hilariously revealed.

Worries.

October 21, Republic.

For a while I thought it was swine flu.
Dylan had had a cold for more than a week and yesterday he woke up from a nap with a hundred and four fever. We had almost brought him in a few days ago for a dry, persistent cough, then opted for natural remedies; we were, as usual in the circus, in the middle of nowhere. This time I rushed to a pediatric urgent care clinic in Springfield.
It was pneumonia, but not so severe that he required hospitalization. The night was long and difficult, coughing and the fever is up again. Still, it's not the dreaded flu.

A trailer with a view.

October 21, Republic, Missouri (13 miles, park.)

A trailer with a view.

October 20, Willard, Missouri (34 miles, Jackson Street park.)

A trailer with a view.

October 19, Marshfield, Missouri (53 miles, fairgrounds.)

A trailer with a view.

October 18, Bolivar, Missouri (46 miles, next to old 84 Lumber.)

Self-portrait with clown and elephant.

October 17, Eldorado Springs.

A hair moment.

October 17, Eldorado Springs.

Time for the horse act and Armando's hair was out of place; Natalia tried to brush it back, Renato was his usual self.

More of the same (repeat.)

October 17, Eldorado Springs.

More of the same.

October 17, Eldorado Springs.

Muddy lot, and Casey's house gets stuck and has to be pulled out and onto the pavement next to "the rich and famous," as Fridman calls the trailers that are parked next to the midway (they're on pavement; the rest of us are on mud: the rich and famous.)
There was the usual farm tractor and the driver looked like he was having a lot of fun speed-hauling trucks into place all morning long.

A trailer with a view.

October 17, Eldorado Springs, Missouri (38 miles, highway 54 between Fugate Motors and Summer Fresh Market.)

Mondrian circus kid.

October 16, Wheatland.

Kelly Miller circus kid.

October 16, Wheatland.

Wireless.

October 16, Wheatland.

Yesterday morning the internet pedaled on (a really old bicycle, surely) before grinding to a halt towards noon. Today it's just grinding on painfully.
The wireless road is just like the circus road, full of glitches and potholes.

A trailer with a view.

October 16, Wheatland, Missouri (43 miles, speedway grounds.)

A trailer with a view.

October 15, Camdenton, Missouri (62 miles, ampitheater grounds.)

A trailer with a view.

October 14, Vienna, Missouri (64 miles, a field near a dairy farm.)

A short visit.

October 13, Fulton.

I drove to Columbia to meet Greg for lunch and went to see the house where I lived there, on a one-block dead-end street called Otto Court. It was too cold to wander around as I had planned but I did get to visit with Lily, Sally's daughter, whom I hadn't seen since she was eleven; she's twenty-six now. The onslaught of a bad headache and the cold sent me back home to the circus in the afternoon where I collapsed on the couch and slept the pain off.

A trailer with a view.

October 13, Fulton, Missouri (60 miles, fairgrounds.)

Of feathers and friendship.

October 12, Warrenton.

Tis the season of friends still. Greg and Sally came to visit from Columbia today, so much time lost and found.
We used to write letters, Greg and I, and now it's emails, and they're not any more frequent but just as sustaining. Friendship in spite of time and distance, pen on paper, a bright orange, uneven, soft Chinese paper laced with a golden leaf which broke under the scratches of my fountain pen head, ma plume, my feather, as we say in French. The paper evokes a busy oriental market in Belleville, a Paris working-class neighborhood, and sitting in a dark cafe nearby writing, reading, passing time.
Time passed, and it's now many years, my pen dry but our friendship enduring.

A trailer with a view.

October 12, Warrenton, Missouri (35 miles, athletic complex.)

Non-news.

October 11, Union.

It's cold, really cold, but sunny again. We're wedged into a parking lot and there is a great whoop across the quiet street.
There was a gas leak in the trailer this morning and we're still not quite sure where it originated. Now we're out of gas, so that solves the problem.

Escape to the zoo.

October 11, Union.

The boys and I spent the day at the Saint Louis zoo with my friend Zuzana yesterday, the world outside the circus bubble looking much like inside, tigers and all; Dylan's face watching the penguins, Nicolas saying goodbye to every animal we stopped to see.
It was a perfect day for this, crisp and sunny, and Zuzana drove us back just in time for her to witness this season's ritual tractor-pulling of the circus off the sinking field.

A trailer with a view.

October 11, Union, Missouri (74 miles, pool parking lot.)

About the rain.

October 9, Troy.

Last year.

October 9, Troy.

Same lot as last year, much worse weather (it was sunny, I took pictures of Julio Rosales' family; Natalie told me she was pregnant with Genevieve.)

A trailer with a view.

October 9, Troy, Illinois (32 miles, next t6 RP Lumber.)

Cloistered.

October 8, Benld.

We've been hibernating under the unperturbed rain.
Fridman watched movies then drifted off to sleep and then took off with friends, Dylan was sweet as he and Nicolas spent all day inside without even getting cartoons as a compensation for the lock-down. Sometime in the early afternoon (I think, I soon lost track of the hours as if they didn't count anymore) they fell asleep with me on the sofa and later I carried Dylan to his crib and stayed with Nicolas as he amused himself with books and cars and trucks and more cars and trucks.
I did manage to read some.

Maybe, maybe not.

October 8, Benld.

Heavy rain and the shows are canceled, unless Oscar can come up with a building.
(Too good to be true, the day off, rain or no rain?)

A trailer with a view.

October 8, Benld, Illinois (70 miles, community park.)

The way things are.

October 7, Winchester, Illinois (44 miles, Monument park.)

Didn't see anything of Winchester, annual pilgrimage to former home of Jacksonville, where the town hasn't changed but things have among our friends, as things will.

Horse barn (red.)

October 6, Mt Sterling.

Untitled II (looking up.)

October 6, Mt Sterling.

Untitled (looking up.)

October 6, Mt Sterling.

Midwest pean.

October 6, Mt Sterling.

Nicolas fell asleep and Dylan and I went for a walk downtown along a small-town street, coming back to the circus through the fairgrounds in the back. Flash memory of taking pictures there for the Jacksonville paper and a tranquil afternoon, warm memories. Vision of a black horse in the distance galloping against the bright dry corn, loose; I loose the picture. Today the sky is dotted with brilliant clouds and the sunlight intermittently lights them up, the glorious light again.
And so it is that I'm falling in love with the landscape of the Midwest, scorned and long left behind, electric poles poking in its infinite skies, the improbable beauty.

A trailer with a view.

October 6, Mt Sterling, Illinois (49 miles, fairgrounds.)

Late afternoon.

October 5, Carthage.

Salsa.

October 5, Carthage.

Kate and Chucho now rock the cookhouse, music fills the air on days they work, he cooking, she washing dishes and helping with service.

Welcome.

October 5, Carthage.

Carthage announced itself with a "Historic Carthage Jail" sign.
Down the road there was another sign, for the Gun Club.
They know hospitality in Illinois.

A trailer with a view.

October 5, Carthage, Illinois (54 miles, Saddle Club.)

Cainan moments - Dad's off to work.

October 4, Oquawka.

Shortly before the beginning of the show Casey grabs a cup of coffee before heading backstage where he'll be the first to go in. Natalie helps him but doesn't have to put a costume on; she'll do that shortly thereafter for her own act.
Georgia watches her little sister for the ten minutes of Casey's act, and Casey in turn watches the baby when Natalie is on.

Cainan moments - kiss.

October 4, Oquawka.

Cainan moments - Beau.

October 4, Oquawka.

Beau is being trained and does not appear in the show yet. Natalie hopes to have him ready to work next year to take the place of Dixie, who died last month of cancer.

Cainan moments - Mom's here.

October 4, Oquawka.

Genevieve was asleep when Natalie came back from her act but soon woke up. Juggling a six-year-old and a six-month-old baby in a small trailer while working and traveling takes stamina, yet Natalie says she wouldn't have it any other way. The circus is the most family friendly way to raise a child, she says, your kids are with you all the time, it's not like town people who only get to see them when they come home at night.

Cainan moments - reminiscences.

October 4, Oquawka, Illinois (31 miles, 8th and Pike.)

Oquawka boasts an elephant grave, and it turns out the animal belonged to Myrna's family circus.
It was struck by lightning during a storm, some thirty years ago. Armando's mother was working with the circus at the time, and Armando must have been a baby. As he was getting ready for his act he came over to the Cainans to ask Casey the name of the elephant handler and Casey had to call a friend of his as neither he, Natalie or Armando could put their finger on it.
There was much exclamation when the name was finally produced.

Perspectives (the Mississippi river.)

October 4, Oquawka.

A trailer with a view.

October 4, Oquawka, Illinois (31 miles, 8th and Pike.)

Natalie in blue.

October 3, Aledo.

A trailer with a view.

October 3, Aledo, Illinois (53 miles, fairgrounds.)

Kate.

October 2, Kewanee.

Kate arrived in McHenry, looking for work, and is now doing odds and ends, appearing at the opening, finale and Luawana Ladies dance, helping in the kitchen on days Chucho works.

Heels, flats, and the evolution of circus life.

October 2, Kewanee.

Rain or shine.

October 2, Kewanee.

Incredibly, under freezing rain, the circus is full.
The horse act was canceled at the last minute because of slippery conditions. Natalia was already backstage with Argenio tucked in his car seat; she and Armando walked home to their living quarters in the Marathon under the rain, and Patsy donned a robe against the cold.

Behind the scenes moment - the buddy latch.

October 2, Kewanee.

Cold.

October 2, Kewanee.