Day 3- The Fair. Gazpacho and hogs.

A Fair Wednesday.

Usually one of our lighter show days, with the advent of Wilbur and Willis- the hogs, it became just another busy day at The Fair.

The day began in the Grange building, where the miscellaneous project judging was being held in foods and the creative arts. Five projects out of our household were to be judged in the morning. Eldest was up first with her offering from the project " You're the Chef!". She has taken a food project yearly for many years and has become somewhat disenchanted by the material in the project books. This year was no exception. The first element in the project was to go to the store and buy a meal from the deli and serve it for dinner. It was expensive, tasteless and unappetizing to look at...my own dietary restrictions meant I was saved from having a taste-test opinion, but that meal, served in January, brought a long drought on her interest in the project. A few weeks before the fair, no progress had been made, and she was wanting to drop the whole thing. I looked through the book, and really couldn't blame her. So, I encouraged her to change the project up- make it worth her while, learn something. Since her career interest right now is in the medical field, she decided to take each section, disregard the project entirely, and re-write her own way, choosing a different medical related dietary choice for each one. She then researched the nutritive needs for each medical condition and re-wrote the menus to reflect the need. So, she did diets for low-salt requirement as in heart and kidney disease, a diet for diabetes, celiacs disease and so on. The meals she made were tasty and quite edible. For judging, they are to show up with one dish, plus a table setting and menu for the entire day, plus a cost-analysis per serving.

For her judging she made a fresh summer berry gazpacho, with a reduction of Riesling and fresh mint- fruity, light and delicious. She served it picnic style, with a whole grain baguette, aged Gouda cheese and summer sausage. As she assembled the required items the night before judging, she said "I don't know why I'm doing this! The judge is going to hate it. It isn't even close to the project I signed up for!" Rare negativity from Eldest, but I think she had really invested part of herself, and was preparing for the possibility of going out on a limb, and having it cut off.

We arrived just as the judging was to start. I saw a man in a chef's jacket and pants settling himself at the far table. On the placket of his coat it says "Berger Health Systems"- the chef for the local hospital! I pointed him out, and said " Darling, if you get him as a judge, he's gonna love it!" She came back from judging with rave reviews. He had told her he was very impressed.

Next one of mine up at the chef's table? Youngest with his offering of salsa and blue corn chips from his project "Party Planner". He had set up his table (cloth strewn in a lump across the center, bowl of chips) and sat, not-so-patiently waiting for the chef to finish with the child on the other judging table and eating the chips surreptitiously under the table. But let me tell you, the kid can talk.

Middlest had the competition in the large contingent of scrapbookers. She had made a scrapbook of our spring break trip to Maryland. The book is a sweet little joy of color and praise for my parents beautiful home and menagerie.

And when the judgement came down? Eldest pulled in first place and the state fair representative seat for "You're the Chef!", and second place in the Scrapbooking project. Her scrapbook was one she made for her best friend as a high school graduation gift. I sure hope the girls are friends forever, because that book will be a great thing to pull out on a "girl's trip" to Kansas City in 2042.

And, Youngest earned a second place for his bowl of chips and salsa- but more for his efforts at party planning and party throwing!

As afternoon rolled on, it was time for the hog-rodeo to begin! The pig show is an extravaganza. 20 classes of pigs with about 14-16 pigs per class. Youngest's pigs were about mid-weight, so were in class 13 and class 16. He got dooded up in his Texas-starched shirt, jeans, boots and belt buckle featuring a  black and white enamel Hampshire hog. Dee-luxe.  He informed me that this meant someone else needed to bathe his hog just before entering the arena (already bathed twice today, but it is a hog...).

I thought this seemed like a nice job for Huz, my toes inside my wet boots just beginning to unwrinkle. Karma is a little devil. Just after I took this photo, a chestnut red  Duroc hog came wandering down the wash aisle. As she sauntered past, she started spraying poop like a sprinkler. It shot up right over the white-ish wall and across it with each step she took. To my dismay I realized when she reached the end of the wash rack she would turn to the left and her bottom would rotate to the right- and I was doomed. So, I lifted my dress up and covered my camera and took karma right up the leg. Good thing I was in a wash rack, so much for unwrinkled toes.

Youngest worked hard to get his pig into the holding pen. Each time he'd open a pen, he'd have to go get the hog to turn it and walk it towards the pen he'd open, and by that time another kid and hog were within. There were adults pen-side ostensibly there to help, but, evidently, not there to help him. Eventually, when nearly every pig had already entered the ring, a small girl hopped the fence to open a pen and help him.

A moment alone to give a scratch of encouragement and then in to pig "pandelerium".

Youngest is the little guy, left side of photo, trying to get the judge to look at his pig, and failing. I don't think the judge bothered to check him out. To be fair, it was obvious that Youngest was showing non-show pigs. Wilbur and Willis were market hogs raised on the market for bacon and ham, being shown against hogs developed and fed specifically for the show ring (that will still be bacon and ham). In this photo, about four of the hogs that are in the class have already been "penned", or set aside to compete for a placing. Youngest got in the arena for only a minute or two before all the leftover hogs were dismissed. It was a disappointment to him. But, taking a hog in Ohio means you're now on the big-kid's playground. No ribbon, no recognition. But, more importantly, his project is a success. He has made it all happen himself, from calling around to find a farmer to sell him his hogs,  negotiating a price, borrowing a feeder and waterer, and then feeding, watering, walking and cleaning up after his hogs. "Making weight"...the delicate balance of having the right sized hog on the day you show up at the fair, and then showing well behaved hogs in a hot arena on show night. I am super proud of him. He was superb!