Fiddle = Funnel Cake

Some of my fondest memories of being a child are the ones I have of the Tennessee Valley Old Time Fiddlers Convention. Boom Paw, my grandfather from Tuscaloosa, loved the Fiddlers Convention. Every year, he and my grandmother (Maw Maw) would come to Athens for the convention. Boom Paw and Ed would take us to hear the fiddle off on Saturday evening. Some years the weather would be so cold that my mother would bundle us up in layers and layers of thermal underwear. As soon as we'd get to the college campus, Boom Paw would purchase funnel cake for us. We would sit in the bleachers and eat funnel cake while sipping on hot chocolate. I almost never stayed awake until the very end. I can remember resting my head on the cold metal seat and drifting off to sleep only to be awakened when either my father or grandfather would lift me up for the ride home. Both my father and grandfather have passed away, and my fondness for the annual convention has become an even more sentimental. This year, Jay and I took our children for the whole day on Saturday. We took strollers and blankets. We bought pork rinds and funnel cakes. We sat on the same metal bleachers that my father and grandfather sat on for so many years. I was able to share something with my children that my father was able to share with me. I wish that I had pictures of Ed and Boom Paw enjoying the music.