Sad Dog

Kids have left for school. I am a sad dog.

Bus Stop an' Barbeque

We don't have a "bus stop" in the normally accepted convention. The bus stops at the bottom of the lane, and then at the driveway down the road etc. Kids do not congregate together at a "bus stop". This morning, my eldest missed the bus. It doesn't happen often, as early warning system of "If you miss the bus, you'll have to wait until I can take you, and that may be after I get home from work. Tonight. In the meantime, you will have to work...dreaded chores!"With a 40 minute round trip to school, if I have to take the first set to school, the second set then misses the bus. So, when Eldest misses the bus, great heaving hysterics occur. Now, Middlest made the bus....hmmm. So, I put on some warm togs and grabbed keys and drove Eldest to the neighbors. One of the mysteries of the bus is that my kids get picked up 20 minutes before the kid 3 miles away. So, we parked at the bottom of their drive, and waited for them to come out to see what kind of child kidnapping stalker was waiting for their kid. So, Madeleine got to wait with another boy for the bus. Like a bus stop!

Once was a hog. We're a big Pig County.

And last night, the 4-H banquet went well. It was a farm themed Hog Roast. Of all the decor choices, this one is perhaps easiest for our decoration committee. We can do "farm". And, the food even included a spinach salad with feta and strawberries, so I had plenty to eat. Eldest earned an Honorable Mention for her Treasurer's Book. What I hadn't realized is there is a winner. Then, if they think someone else is deserving, there is an Honorable Mention. She was showered with savings bonds from Citizens Bank and 4-H gifties. Her score? 100 out of 100. Wow. Pretty good finish for the kid who refused to make the first deposit, as she would have to walk into the bank, and may have to speak to someone.  (Eye roll). I did nothing for the Treasurer's Book, so special thanks to Kim F. for all her hardwork keeping Eldest on track.

Also winning the main prize was our 4-H Historian for her amazing scrapbook of the Saddle and Sirloin 4-H Club year. This is a much coveted prize, as scrapbooking in the midwest is a form of high art. And MAN, the work that goes into that! Not to mention the money. Hmm. Maybe we should provide a budget for the Historian.

8 of the 67 members and advisors of Saddle and Sirloin. Historian and winner, Jessie W. sporting a medal.

And, once again, Saddle and Sirloin achieved Honor Club status. This means the club performed to the highest levels in all measured areas of participation, philanthropy and achievement. New, this year, are banners proclaiming the Honor, that will be hung in next year's Fair Booth....ah, 4-H season has begun. Again.
P.S. My youngest just forgot his lunch. Big eye roll.

Flowers in the rain

This morning the sun never came up, visibly. It was a beautiful, rainy morning. Perfect for staying in bed, reading a book and drinking tea. Or, for getting up, doing barn chores and tramping about in the rain snipping items(loosely termed flowers) for 25 centerpieces for the 4H banquet. As the budget is zero, the items must be God's flowers, or pilfered from my gardens. I enlarged "my gardens" to mean Amy Z.'s garden. She has a prolific zinnia border which is now slightly thinner. I tramped across the massive corn field across the street, as I spied milk weed pods back there on my circumferential ride last week. Milk weed pods are surprisingly heavy. Grasses and a few hardy Queen Anne's lace, a wild rose hedge of rose hips and roses, hydrangea and marigolds completed my selection. The theme is a barn party round-up, so this roadside hodgepodge in mason jars somehow works. Also relied on generosity of another 4-H farm family, the Steeles contributed about 80 damp cornstalks from the field. Shoved into ancient milk cans they soar to 10 feet and fill up the cavernous space in the meeting hall. All is in place for the banquet this evening, and it looks pretty great.

My minivan with cornstalks, milk cans and 25 centerpieces off to the banquet.

Unfortunately, once set up was complete, it was time to move on to the visiting hours for Wayne Zwayer. He was a beautiful man. Movie star handsome, and always smiling, one of my favorites. He'll be greatly missed. I put together some flowers in his honor, and brought them with me, tucked in amongst the wonderfully, professionally done bouquets, I know he would appreciate the humbleness of my offering.

Sunshine and roses for Grandpa Zwayer.

Now, with a heavy heart, off to the banquet. Got ma dress boots on....

Weekend is for relaxing?

Well, I suppose working on Saturday does truly shorten the weekend part, but I can't complain as it isn't like I work the normal 5 days a week. So, whilst I was vaccinating Pookie, and discussing flea control for Oliver, my Middleist was warming the seventh grade girls' volleyball bench. I hear I didn't miss much, as she never got on the floor once the whistle started play. They lost. The rest of my family watched. Then Eldest was deposited at the High School to get ready for the band show, along with the bagged dinners I managed to make around the Footband Friday Night schedule. The dinners for 120 were not solely my responsibility (thank you, Lord), but the tricky thing was they had to have certain items, and then, the bags need to be decorated and inspirational. Also, PBJ made the day before is icky. So, huz was slotted for making the PBJ's and delivering the bags.
When I got home from work, my Middleist and I did the barn chores, early, and hopped in the car to drive  to the other side of The Big City to watch the Band Contest. Apparently my bags did not hold enough inspiration. I thought their show was wonderful. The judges did not agree. And, another night in the football stands that starts as hot, and ends with a 30 degree drop in temperature and a gale force wind meant the family huddled together like a pile of puppies. (Well, except for Huz, who can't take all the wiggling and elbows involved). So, as Saturday rolled into Sunday, the roosters were singing too soon, and I dragged out of bed to get ready for the next. Youngest and Huz were off to the Boy Scout Shooteree, and Middleist and I were off to the Dressage show. Eldest had a long involved day of lying in bed planned.
This was the first Dressage show for my Middleist, and she was, well, reluctant. (As in: turned into Carrie and shot flames from both eyeballs). I pointed out that many children would not think of being provided with a horse and an opportunity to ride it as child abuse. Attitude improved somewhat, we packed food and fired up the Big Girl (Blondie, my monster truck) to go collect horses from the front pasture. My uber-calm dressage horse welcomed the occasion by busting through a back gate and wildly jumping the farm creek, galloping and farting and jumping and screaming whinnies until he felt properly prepared to be shut in a metal box hurtling down the highway at 60 mph. We then followed my dressage (coach, instructor, trainer? I don't know what she wants to be called; she stands in the middle of the ring, hollers instruction and Oslo and I get better at this) to another farm to pick up Ari. Ari is one of my dressage coach/trainer/instructor's(from now on to be known as Christy) pupils. His owner, Amber, doesn't ride much, but likes to watch her horse be pretty, so employs Christy to ride and train and show him.
So, with the sun up and the windows too- chilly morning! We drove to the other side of The Big City and South Wind Stable. With only about a half hour until Georgia's ride time, we all helped her get ready and get on Peach. Christy and I played Dressage Show Barbie with her, and by the time she was dressed for the ring she looked way too professional and WAY too grown up!

My baby girl!

Happily trotting along...

She performed her first dressage test without mishap- and had fun! She also placed third and brought home a yellow ribbon. I'm very proud of her for doing this, despite her reluctance. If we do new things often enough, as painful as it is to do so, I'm hoping she'll realize mostly fun ensues. Life is a series of educational moments, and how you choose to handle the education. Or as Robert Frost pointed out; education leads to self confidence.

Check them out!

I videoed the actual test. If I had figured out youtube, I would post it. I have not figured out youtube.

We then had about 5 hours until Christy and I rode. Since Georgia's test was an Intro test in the small arena, and Christy and I were riding more complicated tests in the big arena, the space in between was filled with the other competitors. So, we chatted, ate, groomed my big, dirty horse until he shined. Christy braided his unruly mane in french braid. Georgia did homework including counting 448 Skittles from a bag, and then working on eating them all. About 1:30, friends Terry and daughter, Emma arrived for moral support and friend time. Terry was my personal paparrazzi, so I got a lot of great photos of Oslo with me on top.

A successful canter- one of the few today!

Now, Christy and Ari happened to be riding the same tests as Oslo and Me. We did very little trash talking, as it was likely Oslo and I were going to get our butts kicked. He has a very handsome butt. So handsome in fact, that he put the dressage judge into a trance of love that caused her to give him high scores, and her phone number. Really. Now, to be fair, not all our scores were high. The aforementioned foiled canter sequences earned 3's and 4's. This is out of 10. That is bad. But we had enough 6's and 7's with an occasional 8 to place us second!



Wow!

The Shooteree was a success as well, and my Youngest bubbled with excitement and information right through barn chores and dinner. He earned some belt badges and had the most fun in the Archery unit and blowing stuff up. Thank the Lord, again, for my Huz. Who also had fun shooting stuff in the air, and blowing stuff up.  

Comparing tests- and with slightly better scores edging her into 3rd place in both tests, a little trash talking...

Now onto the week.... must make 25 centerpieces for banquet tomorrow night, and veterinary school recommendations for Kendra, and Volleyball game tonight. Tomorrow decorate for banquet, and attend banquet.  Sadly will also attend visiting hours for a wonderful family man and friend who passed away on Saturday. He was special, and sweet, and welcoming. I think that is why I am dragging today. He had 5 children, many grandchildren and even some great grands- and all are hurting, along with his irrepressible and gracious wife, who will now have to make her way without him.
Maybe next week...month...year?  will be for relaxing.

Sunday Tease

I have an appointment with my bathtub. We definitely need each other after a very busy weekend of working, volleyball, band contest, Boy Scout Shooteree, and dressage show. So, before I go take off my white breeches (invention of Satan), luxuriate in the tub and get rid of horse stank... a photo that gives pictotestament to my current state of mind!

Me, on Oslo, working WAY too hard, and making a face at the camera...

Hot Wind

Wind is a part of life here at Cowfeathers. Thus, the windmill.  But the Hot Wind is here. Well over ninety degrees out and the wind does not cool your skin, it is just hotter. I rode for a few hours today, nothing strenuous, just trying to get Samantha K. back into the riding mode before she goes on loaner for the hunt season. I find myself tired nonetheless. I believe it is the wind. Loud and constant and hot. After I had gotten on Samantha and was midway down the lane, I heard the sound of the combine and realized they were about to take the soybeans off (this is farm lingo for harvest the soybeans out of the field). The soybean field is about 30 feet from the back of the house. Harvesting soybeans is a very dusty affair. Hot wind +dust+open windows in house close to field= mess. So, Samantha and I raced back to the house, I jumped off her, leaving her on the patio and raced around the house closing windows. Even so, this computer was under a nice layer of soybean grit. Good mare that she is, she was calmly waiting for me to return, one back hoof resting, reins short on one side, practically on the ground with the other, and hanging off one ear. We then went to go enjoy the sun and hot wind far away from the soybean dust filling our noses and sticking to our eyelashes. No worries, with that wind we were soon covered in all manner of earth's products. Dust Bowl II.
After a splash about in the tub, I was mostly dust free and ready to head off to FootBand Friday Night.
We made our way to the town of Carroll...who knew there was a town? Not me! And as we paid our $16 admission fee, a few fat raindrops joined us at the gate. They brought friends. Lots of them. Not prepared at all for rain, we made our way to the Away stands in a downpour and sought refuge under the stands for most of the first quarter. So, leaving home in 94 degrees with a hot wind landed us in damp clothes,sitting in puddle filled bleachers as a lovely cold front made me regret my tank top and light sweater optimism.
Thank you, young football heathens, for an exciting game!

Hamster Wheel.

This was a pot filled with a huge crysanthemum and the thing on it's side, there, was a robust ornamental kale. That was until the locustsheep discovered it.. Middle kid spin? "Well, at least you have Halloween decorations."

It's three. And it need to be about 11 a.m. Sometimes you have to just leave stuff undone and go on. Perhaps I do this too often, as it seems a lot goes undone! But, I do stuff constantly. Today, I have fixed the steps in the barn- a sometimes hazard consequent to 200 year old steps. This time it was the bottom step that went on an adventure, and not whilst I, nor anyone else, was standing upon it. This is good. One of its higher neighbors decided to go south while I was carrying down a haybale a few years back. After I landed below, my eldest looked down from above and said "MOM!ARE YOU OKAY?!?!" I did quick inventory, and said "Yup, I think so." To which she replied; "Well, then, why are you still lying there?"
I replaced the fence where we open it for easier access to the outhouse during the barn party. I moved rocks and flower pots and the horse trailer. I cleaned out the water buckets and the goose pool. I picked up past two days of manure in the paddocks- 4 wheelbarrow loads. I swept out the stalls and chased around the rogue lambs as they demolished yet another blooming effort in the garden. I rode two horses, bathed 4 (one horse twice, as the first time was purely a ticket to become a raincloud- a la Pooh) cleaned 2 bridles and 2 saddles, half chaps, girths and pads. I moved hay bales and regained access to the loft post- party. I fixed electric fence and fetched the coolers from the barn and the pitchfork from the burn pile. I watered the perennial border garden and did three loads of laundry. I drank two cups of tea and ate a hummus omelette for breakfast and some cottage cheese for lunch. It is now 3:05, and not much have I done today will last past tomorrow.....hamster on a wheel. Go Hammy Go!

This was the view from the hamster wheel while running on it with Oslo. He's a fine looking Hamster. 

Wordless Wednesday

Yiqian? Ganbei!

Translated: "1000? Cheers!"
We can say my foreign language is very limited. Very. But I figure I've got about thirty people that are interested enough to read this blog! If you subtract my family members from that number you have about 6. 6 people, not related to me! Wow!
Now, back to the Foreign part, my farm life is about to get interesting- and not very farmlike. In a few weeks I get on a feiji, for a laihui yi lu ping an! (plane for a round trip safe and peaceful journey). I'm going to keep where we're going a secret for now. Keep you guessing.
In any case we are going there because my huz knows stuff they want to know too, and so he is going to teach them that stuff. The real mystery here is why I am going. See, I do not know stuff. Wo bu dong Zhongwen,( I do not understand your language) either. I am not good at altitude. So.... I guess I'm going for the tou teng, (headache) the chance to be a se bai de jou ren (blonde giant) and the Yi lu ping an! I will perhaps be able to share my adventures in this blog, but, where we are going might be a communist state, where you get sentenced to hard labor or execution for using words like "bo ke"...or it might be Norway. You'll have to stay tuned and keep reading to find out.....

Opportunity found

When I was a girl, the Smerges had a fall barn dance. We would get into the station wagon and drive to Wilton, park in a field and walk to the big grey barn. Mrs. Smerge was tall, dark haired and elegant, with more children than anyone else in Connecticut.( I think there were 5!)  I remember laughing and fun, but I remember feeling part of the party. It wasn't a kid party. It wasn't an adult party either. I danced with boys, and it just, was. Not momentous, or a big romantic deal. I think we might have gone twice. I just know it stuck with me.

When we moved to Cowfeathers, I felt compelled to revive the tradition. Here we were, owners of a nearly 200 year old Dutch built German barn. Stout of beam, slate of roof, perfect.
Thus began the barn party. The first year was in honor of my huz' 40th birthday. Great fun, and lots of family and friends travelled from all over to come help us celebrate. Since then, we have mostly friends and neighbors at the barn party, but we get some travellers too. This year our farthest flung attendees came from Germany. Just for the Barn Party. (They also managed to squeeze in a little time to see their daughter- one of my huz' residents. Still, they came for the Barn Party. Really.:-)
Every year, Pete Shew and his Back Porch Swing Band rolls in and sets up in the barn. Every year is a little different. I tell Pete to just bring whomever wants to play- it's always terrific.

Amy and Elizabeth Z. do a little back up vocals for the Back Porch Swing Band

They do some excellent country blues and swing numbers in between getting us squared up and a- dancin'!
The first year they came out, the caller was used to square dancing folks. Who knew what they were doing. He quickly tailored back his expectations, and started back at 5th grade gym instructions. "Okay, there should be 4 couples in your square. Two people make up a couple. One has to be the boy, one has to be the girl. The girl goes to the right of the boy....."  We've gotten better as a group. Just barely. But what has never diminished is the fun!

Or, the food. We always make a large pot of chili, and a few loaves of bread. Then, as the folks walk up the driveway to the barn,  the best food in the world arrives as in pyrex and pie pans- yellow food. Things with lots of cheese and potatoes and pasta, apples and cinnamon and crust.  Pot Luck Food. Yum.

I can easily say that the kids who regularly attend this party are a testament to why they teach square dancing in elementary school. They've got it down while their parents sometimes struggle.

The kids square up and immediately master the Allemande left with the Grand Chain

Eventually, the sun sets- sometimes unbeknownst to us, as it is raining, and the barn doors are closed, but usually in a glorious ribbon of color. This night, it was a bit cloudy, and we had a less striking sunset than usual, but God favored us with a spot of a rainbow, to the right of the mulberry tree.

We danced until the sun had long set, and in the dark, I realized my eldest daughter ( Can I light the candles in the outhouse? Can I ? Can I?) had not done so. Ah, well, I think a few years back I stopped being so much the hostess of the Barn Party, and started just having fun. People still show up, so I suppose the barn, the music,  the food and the paradise setting are enough.

My youngest hanging out with Amelia S.

Special kudos to Woody, showing up in his bibs. That's the spirit!

Sunday Tease

We had a wonderful time again at the Barn Party, and I've had a fine day of horsing around, so instead of wading into the blog tonight, just a photographic tease!

G, H, and M. ready to get the party started!



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Me an' my dancin' pardner.



Party Day!

6th Annual Cowfeathers Barn Party!

Sept. 18, 2010

Featuring Pete Shew and the Back Porch Swing Band

5pm until the last Allemande Left

Bring something tasty to share,

Your sense of laughter,

And remember the lessons of the past:

· “Girl” goes on the right( one of ye has to be the “boy”)

· Couple #1 has their backs to the band

· Four couples make up a square

· Your partner is the one you conned into dancing with you

· Your corner is the one on the other side

If’n you don’t know how to get here, Ask. 

For good di-rect’ions, call Tod.

If’n your kids can’t behave, they will be baling wired to the gander.

And given a pony.

Ode to the Outhouse

Through the outhouse window..

Okay, yesterday I wrote poetry, today I will be poetry in motion. Task? Clean the outhouse. I have a really pretty outhouse. Several years ago, I realized that it would be useful to have a bathroom in the barn. I think I have made the point previously (Livin' Large) that I am thrifty. Building a bathroom in the barn would be doable, perhaps even, fun. But, building an outhouse would be practical, and thrifty. Indeed.
So, I built a cute little outhouse. That winter the wind blew it right over. So, that spring I put it back on it's feet, repaired the roof, broken window panes- actually a nice neighbor came over and did those, and went on with my life. Then, in 2009, whilst brushing my teeth in an actual bathroom I noticed something different about the barn hill. When my mind clicked, I was astonished: the outhouse had disappeared! Gone? How is that possible? So, I tramped up to the barn to investigate. Sure enough, it was no longer there. Instead, It was about 30 yards away, on it's side in the soy bean field. Hmm. It is what you could call "windy" at Cowfeathers. Must've been a doozie.
So, there it stayed, while I mulled over how to drag it, roll it, dismantle and move it back onto the hill.
In April, the 4H club meets at our barn for the day. Each 4H member does a little presentation for the rest of the club. Lots of folks in the barn means I wish I had my outhouse. But it inspired me to mention the dilemma. Sure enough, lunch break found many adults out in the field, rolling, dragging and moving it back out of the field and wrassling it back to it's spot.


Party at my house! Always an adventure.

 In order to help prevent furthur "Dorothy"s  by the outhouse, this time, as I rebuilt the roof and repaired the structure, door, etc, I bolted the outhouse to a post sunk deep in the ground and concrete.
It made it through last winter, and has served me and friends, neighbors, passerby? (okay, that isn't too likely) well. So, a spiffing today of the outhouse. Polish the crystals, fresh candles, clean seat, windexed mirror- and despidered. New rug, change the artwork, heavy, soft toilet paper. To all local friends who had an outhouse as children, my version never ceases to amuse...

Harvest

Gold light too bright, just right for corn
So clear the fingers feel the stiff cold to come
Tease of perfection, glows orange, yellow, blue 
holding me down to the browning grass.
To feed the world, the hogs, the cows
all on corn
row upon row of sameness expecting diversity
all growing upon corn

Did Darwin Know?
The machines will go clouds of dust in the valley
be patient, be patient!
Or, don't drive but in town.
Road strewn with blank red cobs and sand colored husks
like Fraternity Row on Sunday morning- cups blown against the fence
something went on here!

Small boy, waiting at the edge of the field, hopeful
bouncing on his feet.
Inside the glare of the cab, a simple wave, and he's off into the broken field to climb high
into the noise
I'm sure they'll give him back.

Bleacher Butt/BandMomWaterboy

About to begin the parade.

Today was the Homecoming Pep Rally. Another thing in the "new to me" category. I think in High School we had a pep rally sometime during the school day where we walked down to the track/stadium and missed a few classes. Here, we have a full evening pep rally, that begins with a 6pm parade through town. The Marching Band leads the parade- after the Boyscouts with the flags, and I now know they play "Louie- Louie" repeatedly for the route. I know this because I was a Band Mom Waterboy. New to this too- a theme? , I was given cush duty as the waterboy for the Flag Corps and the Drum Majors, that left 4 other BandMomWaterboys to cover the other 100 kids in the band. Cush. Except that meant I had to pay enough attention to avoid getting smacked down by flags.

After marching about the town, followed by pickup trucks stufffed with sport teams and cheerleaders ( including my monstertruck, Blondie, housing the 7th grade Volleyball team, helmed by huz)
the parade and spectators end up in the football stadium. For presentation of the homecoming court and some tug of war matches...featuring a lot of cheerleaders. A speech from the Head Football Coach, introduction of the football seniors, etc. All the while, the band playing...thankfully no more "Louie Louie", but "Sweet Child of Mine" and a lovesong of some sort, I don't know, I heard it 40 times during the homecoming court presentation, but....anyway, the National Anthem- excellent and the "HEY"song- popular faves. So, did my time as a BandMom. Now, release me to the 4H!
(although I'm happy to be waterboy for parades- really.)
Oh, and in the Band Room, I found the hardware from the Contest over the weekend (see BleacherButt)...here's the take for the #1 band at the contest!

One Contest???REALLY? Indeed.

Pickaway County Fair, Wednesday......redux

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.

Third place, happy face!

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.

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.

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.

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.

With her Scrapbook and Judge.

Trailer Park Birthday

     Time to switch gears to Georgia's Camperside Birthday Extravaganza 2010! And it is hot. Really hot. But we receive 4H friends and play games and have pizza and ice cream cake and sparklers and listen to the buzz of the motocross bikes in the grandstand area until it is time for bed. Georgia got a "name on rice" from one of her friends. This was a thrill. It is a little piece of rice, with her name on it, in a little rice sized bottle on a necklace. She also got volley ball pads and a volley ball- she is interested in trying out for the 7th grade team, and boring stuff from her parents. Another day at the Fair!