For those of you who missed it the first time 'round, I've been posting the account of this year's County Fair, one day at a time..check the blog log for the postings from Monday and Tuesday, get you up to speed on the Fair, and how we got here.
Mid week, Pickaway County Fair! Madeleine's only day of judging, and Hamilton's first. Georgia is officially off the hook, all shows and contests complete. Hamilton and I got up early and charged off home to do home barn chores and do preparations for his "Snack Attack!" judging. The Chrysler Building made it through the night in good form on the table in the air conditioned camper, and the rest of the family is off to the Fair barns to clean, feed, water and walk animals. Wednesday is the rabbit show in the morning, followed by the hog show in the afternoon. Wednesday is also hot. Always. Today was no exception. High eighties by 9:30 in the morning. The rabbit show has two judges, and they complement each other with their specialties. But today, with that mercury on the rise, the rabbit judges judged themselves too hot to tarry, and they split up and started running two classes at a time. More stress for the competitors, perhaps, but less heat stress for the critters! The rabbit exhibitors all dress in black pants and white long sleeved shirts. The long sleeves are necessary to avoid the parallel scars on the inside forearms that designate a rabbit owner, but not exactly a cool and breezy choice. Plus, rabbit fur coats were once popular for more than their softness, as all those kids holding rabbits will attest. So, they rapidly worked their way through the rabbits, both meat rabbits and breeding rabbits. White kids with white rabbits, white shirts, black pants and bright red faces. Still, these kids and critters were comfortable compared to the hogs and hog exhibitors yet to show.
The hog show got underway in 101 degree heat, with about 5 extra degrees tacked on in the barns and arena. Amazingly, there is standing room only, bleachers are packed and the huge fans at either end of the arena are no match for the sun and the body heat. Still, what is a little sweat when you could observe the spectacle of a hog show? Kids in jeans and boots, belt buckles as big as their heads, bright colored button down shirts WITH a collar, hair in neat braids with bows, boys in crew cuts, and all with red faces, arm themselves with a rag in one pocket, a brush in the other and a cane or stick in their hands, and throw themselves at the mercy of fate, releasing a hot pig out of a pen into a deeply mulched arena, and then try to guide it into walking back and forth in front of the judge, wherever the judge may move to in the ring. They walk in a peculiar crouch and constantly watch the judge, tapping their hog on the shoulder to guide it right or left. When the hog poops- and they always doo- the kid whips out the rag in the pocket and wipes the hog's bum, eyes rarely leaving the judge and continue their crouching, tapping walk. If the pig brushes against something, they grab the brush, and smooth out any hairs that might be out of place. Their faces get redder, their laser intensity on the judge never wavers. These are the kids that do well in Showmanship. In reality, when it is 101-105 degrees, hogs don't want to walk back and forth at the whim of the pigtailed ,crouching child. They want to dig (a no-no) or leave and go back to the nice pen with the soft floor, the water misting them and the fan blowing all the hot air around over their misted backs. So, the hogs stop and dig, oblivious to the child furiously tapping them on the shoulder, and glancing back and forth in panicked red faced horror at the judge and then the pig. Or, worse, the pig runs. Running pigs are followed by crouched, running children, and the kids are WAY slower. So, you can see why you'd plop your sweaty fanny in those bleachers and enjoy the show. The judge, on the other hand evaluates each pig for its muscling, soundness and confirmation, distribution and weight, and picks his favorites. They are sent to holding pens, while the other kids and pigs are cornered by men with large plastic squares they use to make walls in front of their legs, and ease the pigs back to the gates towards home. These men and their boards are also put to use when the hogs do the other thing that heat makes them do- get cranky. And cranky pigs can get in pretty aggressive fights. The board guys run over and get a board in between the combatants. If they can't see each other, their ire erases, and off they go, back to walking, digging or running around the ring.
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| Third place, happy face! |
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| Hot Hogs |
The hog show got underway in 101 degree heat, with about 5 extra degrees tacked on in the barns and arena. Amazingly, there is standing room only, bleachers are packed and the huge fans at either end of the arena are no match for the sun and the body heat. Still, what is a little sweat when you could observe the spectacle of a hog show? Kids in jeans and boots, belt buckles as big as their heads, bright colored button down shirts WITH a collar, hair in neat braids with bows, boys in crew cuts, and all with red faces, arm themselves with a rag in one pocket, a brush in the other and a cane or stick in their hands, and throw themselves at the mercy of fate, releasing a hot pig out of a pen into a deeply mulched arena, and then try to guide it into walking back and forth in front of the judge, wherever the judge may move to in the ring. They walk in a peculiar crouch and constantly watch the judge, tapping their hog on the shoulder to guide it right or left. When the hog poops- and they always doo- the kid whips out the rag in the pocket and wipes the hog's bum, eyes rarely leaving the judge and continue their crouching, tapping walk. If the pig brushes against something, they grab the brush, and smooth out any hairs that might be out of place. Their faces get redder, their laser intensity on the judge never wavers. These are the kids that do well in Showmanship. In reality, when it is 101-105 degrees, hogs don't want to walk back and forth at the whim of the pigtailed ,crouching child. They want to dig (a no-no) or leave and go back to the nice pen with the soft floor, the water misting them and the fan blowing all the hot air around over their misted backs. So, the hogs stop and dig, oblivious to the child furiously tapping them on the shoulder, and glancing back and forth in panicked red faced horror at the judge and then the pig. Or, worse, the pig runs. Running pigs are followed by crouched, running children, and the kids are WAY slower. So, you can see why you'd plop your sweaty fanny in those bleachers and enjoy the show. The judge, on the other hand evaluates each pig for its muscling, soundness and confirmation, distribution and weight, and picks his favorites. They are sent to holding pens, while the other kids and pigs are cornered by men with large plastic squares they use to make walls in front of their legs, and ease the pigs back to the gates towards home. These men and their boards are also put to use when the hogs do the other thing that heat makes them do- get cranky. And cranky pigs can get in pretty aggressive fights. The board guys run over and get a board in between the combatants. If they can't see each other, their ire erases, and off they go, back to walking, digging or running around the ring.
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| Small Fry Hog Show (kids are small; hogs are not) |
Meanwhile, back at the Drost farm, Hamilton is making sushi. What else would a nine year old want to make for a snack? He's not bad at sushi, and filled his with avocado, crab and cucumber, sticky rice and nori. Then he made up a tray with a vintage Japanese tea cup, an individual tea pot with peppermint tea, chopsticks and a napkin, Sushi on a square appetizer plate and a red placemat. Then he put origami on the tray- a penguin, two cranes and 5 turtles, we're good at turtles- and we're ready to go back to the fair. (Right after mom creates the day's Clean Pen Awards, I am REALLY behind). We load the snack tray, Chrysler building and Madeleine's scrapbook in the car and drive as close to the Grange building as possible to unload. Madeleine get's judged first for her cake, and gets an "A" for her project! She then gets called for her Scrapbook project, and earns another "A". No surprise, as the scrapbook of the trip to NYC with her grandparents is excellent. Hamilton, meanwhile is antsy. He's intense; he's ready to share his knowledge of snacking with the judge. He checks the time every few minutes, and is off like a rocket when he gets called to his table. He sets up his tray for the judge, and his project book, and his menu and his snack cookbook. Finally it is his turn. He shakes the judges hand, pour her tea, and talks and talks and talks. The table comes to just below his armpits, and his hands are folded in his lap, just his shoulders and head sticking up above the table. Fortunately, the judge is charmed by him, even though his little legs shoot out every so often and kick her under the table. Maybe she has little boys. She writes her comments as he grins at me, and gives him his judging sheet. The kid is so excited he earns an "A" that he makes up an "I got an 'A'" song on the spot, accompanied by a little touchdown dance. We are ready to pack up the cake, and tray and scrapbook and head back to the camper to the tune of "I got an A- A- A I got an AAAAAAA" by Hamilton. Outside the Grange building, we run into the County Extension agent, who gets a chorus of the song, followed by a blow by blow of how it went down. The kid isn't shy.
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| Ready for the judge. |
After a late lunch, back to the Grange building for the Awards. Madeleine and Hamilton have picked three of the most popular projects in the county, and yet they both get third place in their classes. Madeleine is a bit disappointed, especially with a third in the scrapbooking, as she won the class last year. But, she was also in the younger kids class last year, and now, she's with the older kids. The cake was a little disappointing to her, the winner's cake was a beautiful three tier number covered in little flowers in shades of pink, orange and red. But again these are older kids - the winner has a kid already (some start early in the country) and the Chrysler building used creativity more than talent. We'll see if she'll give it a go again next year. Hamilton, on the other hand was so thrilled with his third place showing he did his happy dance for all the spectators. He even climbed onto the back of the couch before bed last night to kiss his hanging ribbon goodnight. "I'll see you in the morning." he said.
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| With her Scrapbook and Judge. |
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| Trailer Park Birthday |
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