Terra Rubra Lions Club to hold annual festival


August 25, 1994|By MICHELLE HOFFMAN

Saturday and Sunday, the Terra Rubra Lions Club will hold its 14th annual Middleburg Days Festival, at the Terra Rubra Lions baseball field in Middleburg on Route 77, a mile east of Keymar.

Eighty vendors are expected for the flea market and craft show.

Spaces are available. There are two sizes, 20 feet by 20 feet and 15 feet by 25 feet, arranged so that all are corner lots.

Twenty dollars will pay for a space for the entire weekend. You may set up Friday evening, or wait and set up by 8 a.m. Saturday. Hours for the flea market and craft show are 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday and 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. Sunday.

Sandwiches will be on sale Friday evening for those who set up early.

Twenty-four-hour security will be provided throughout the event.


A breakfast will be served from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. Saturday and Sunday in the pavilion. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns, fried ham, coffee and orange juice will be served by the Francis Scott Key Class of 1974. The $3 charge will allow you to eat all you care to.

A portion of the proceeds will benefit the Class of '74.

At 10:30 a.m., fried chicken or ham platters go on sale. Hot dogs, ham sandwiches, french fries and soup may be purchased separately.

Members of the Middleburg Improvement Association will have a bake table and refreshment stand to raise money for street light operation for the community.

Proceeds from the event will be donated by the Lions to local organizations aiding in diabetes research, the Maryland School for the Blind, Lions Club International, the Maryland School for the Deaf, and a needy family in the area.

For more information or to reserve a vendor space, contact Wayne Weeks at 751-1351.


Last Thursday, with dishes piled in the sink, a mountain of laundry in the kitchen, and a trail of half-hidden and dismembered toys placed strategically throughout the house so that any burglar would kill himself before he could hurt my family, I lay down for a nap.

It wasn't that I did not have anything to do. I was bored, and Jerry Springer was a repeat.

As I lay asleep, the doorbell rang.

It rang again. Again. And again.

I rushed to the door and yelled, "What?"

On the other side of the screen, arms outstretched with a peaceful offering of a bottle of Pepsi, was a young man. Rather boyish, couldn't have been more than 20.

Would I listen to his presentation so he could get college credit? I replied, "You've got five minutes."

It was the longest five minutes I have ever spent in my life.

The young man ran to the street and came back with a friend, each with huge boxes in tow.

"I represent the ABC Company [not its real name] . . . " He was a vacuum cleaner salesman!

My house seemed to be this man's dream. All the furniture had been moved to one side of the living room two weeks ago so we could clean the carpet. He quickly picked up on the spaciousness of this uncluttered room.

If I would let him demonstrate his product, he vowed, he would not only clean my furniture, but he would shampoo my rug, too.

Trying to be nonchalant, I quickly moved the riding toys parked in the living room to the kitchen.

He was in his glory. I was alone without male supervision, and he was up against his biggest cleaning challenge. I sat on the couch Indian-style and relaxed.

First he showed me the machine's mechanisms. Then he put it together and vacuumed. Then he took it apart and put it together again using different parts. Over 20 parts in all.

With a lot of "yuck" and "gross" and "wow," my salesman made his way around my living room, showing me how great his cleaner was. I was impressed by his tenacity.

Even though I am not a liberated woman, I do like to have things cleaned properly by a man. I couldn't let it slide that he missed a 3-foot by 3-foot patch of rug.

He was not impressed. But, he cleaned it anyway.

Whistling as he worked, he made the straightest vertical lines in my rug that I have ever seen. Then he started to vacuum in the horizontal direction. When he reached midpoint in the room, I cautiously and courteously said I liked the pile better going in the other direction.

Although he looked at me as if I had two heads, he reversed his direction and re-vacuumed the rug.

"I like it better that way too," he groveled.

Three hours -- no, 3 1/2 hours -- later, it was hard-sell time. I don't know what ticked him off more: that I agreed with everything he said, only to insist now that I did not have any money since I have another baby on the way, or that he cleaned my living room and did not get a penny to be put toward his college education.

My giggling husband stayed in the kitchen and refused to participate in the conversation.

As my salesman huffed out the door I held for him, he didn't even say goodbye.

tTC (I gave him a list of names and numbers out of my phone book at random. He may be coming to your door next.)

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