Pictures from Day 2 PCF 2011

For those of you who made it through the entire reading of DAY 2 of THE FAIR- here's the story in pictures. For those of you who gave up and went for a nap or a martini, maybe this will be easier?

A turkey gets flipped upside down for close inspection of the meaty parts.

The Grand Champion Turkey! Tommy-Tom.

Middlest helps show ducks for the eventual winner of Poultry Showman.

Middlest waiting for her turn in Intermediate Poultry Showmanship.

Middlest beginning to feel a bit anxious.

With her second place ribbon in Intermediate Poultry Showmanship.

Youngest waiting for his turn at the Fancy Showmanship for Beginners. Note his jeans with mud soaked knees and duck poop down the leg.

Youngest shows the wing feathers to the judge while "Sosophina" nibbles at his shirt.

Bringin' home the gold! Youngest wins!

Middlest showing Eleanor for the Grand Champion Breeding Sheep title.

Middlest leaving the arena with Eleanor and Evelyn, wondering when her poultry are going to be called in the poultry show.

Back at the poultry tent, the tension is high in the sibling contest for Poultry Showman.

And Middlest's birds on the left are in the hands of teammates while she shows her ewe and Youngest helps another teammate show her birds on the right.

In a rare moment of glancing at Mom during Intermediate Sheep Showmanship.

The sheep judge gives Middlest pointers and encouragement.

Middlest's jeans covered in accolades.

And Mom's skirt covered in....... tea, soap, dirt and chicken poo.

PCF 2011- part 2 Poultry and Sheep day

5 hours later, the sheep show has begun in the main arena. Neither one of my poultry-showing children has shown yet. Youngest is lying in the grass moaning about heat and exhaustion, his show clothes covered in mud. Middlest is presenting with a wrinkled forehead and watery eyes "But I have to show my sheep soon!". And still, the poultry parade goes on, wading through the layers of turkeys, meat chickens and meat ducks, then showmanship for seniors, intermediates, juniors and beginners of turkeys, then meat chickens, then meat ducks, THEN fancy turkeys, fancy chickens (MIDDLEST) and fancy ducks ( Youngest). In the sheep arena the "market lamb" classes are going. These show lambs are usually Suffolks or Crossbred Suffolks, they are born around late December, early January, and are now ready for market. They are meaty and trimmed almost to the skin so you can see their strong muscles. Our lambs are not "market lambs". They are petite little ladies, a year of age and covered in tiny curly ques of wool. They are considered "breeding yearling ewes" for the purpose of showing and are "wool sheep", as they have gorgeous wool and aren't raised for eating. You could eat them, and there's more to them than, say, frog legs, but in America we want monster meaty breeds for eating. So, Huz and WendyHuz have headed off to monitor the sheep show and via text message we are keeping each other apprised of progress in our own arenas.
Finally it is time for Middlest to do Intermediate Fancy Chicken Showmanship. This is traditionally a contest between Middlest and another girl her age who seem to trade off wins. They are both smart little girls, and study their chicken books carefully. In poultry showmanship, there is some art so showing the chicken. displaying the wings, fanning the tail, but the real contest is between who knows the answers to the multitude of posed questions in a one-on-one session with the judge. This year both girls answered all the questions correctly, but Middlest was incorrect with one of the bonus questions, and the other girl got them all correct. So, a second place finish in Showmanship for Middlest- normally a big disappointment- but she was anxious about the sheep show in progress and did not have time to spare for moping. In fact, she had to hand off her bird and run to the arena where they were calling her class.
Back in the poultry tent, the confusion had begun. Somehow they had lumped some fancy duck kids in with the meat ducks for showmanship, and other fancy duck kids had been put into the fancy chicken showmanship class. Youngest had been placed in with the fancy chicken kids- the biggest group of showman, and the most serious. Uh oh.
Fortunately, our club Poultry Advisor was on hand to get Youngest on his game. First, to get him out of the mud. Then, a quick run through of the things he had studied, and into the tent, clutching his duck, "Sosophina". As the judge chose one child then another and another, it became apparent that Youngest would not be taken into conference at the beginning of the class. Huz' texts indicated Middlest was entering the arena, Middlest was showing her lambs! Then a phone call from Huz"She is in the arena now!" I know. I am missing it. Again. But yesterday I missed Youngest showing the dog, and I am not going to miss him showing his duck, too. ( Well, I will miss that later).
Middlest won first place Border Leicester Breeding Ewe, and second place with her two yearling ewes. The judge chose Eleanor over Evelyn for the winning ribbon.
And now, it is Youngest's turn.
The shortest of the bunch, he marches up to the judge and answers questions. He puts his duck into a cage and takes it out, he smiles he chats, he points to parts and names them. How long to incubate an egg, how to hand a duck off to someone, how to take them back, plumage, preen gland...bam, bam, bam, Youngest nailed it all. And WON! All answers correct, plus all the bonus questions.
After a big hug, I ran off to the arena, to see Middlest outside, post show, and give another hug. Then, back to the tent to monitor the show, as Middlest's Fancy Chickens are up right after showmanship. I arrived back to the heated contest for Poultry Showman. This is the last hurdle to being the poultry representative for the Showman of Shoman contest on Friday night. In the tent are the winners of the senior showmanship for turkeys, meat chickens, ducks and fancy chickens. The turkey winner was from another club, but the other three were all from our club. Not only that, but they are family. One sister-brother combo, and the other a cousin. When I got to the contest, it was down to the sister and brother. The tension was huge. The brother is in his last year of 4-H and really wanted to do Showman of Showman. The sister is younger, has a few  years left, really wanted her brother to win, but didn't want to lose either!
"What kind of comb does a Malayan have?" "What does the 'OLC' stand for?" Yikes! They went back and forth, "What kind of duck doens't quack?" "Who has a buttercup?"
And then, the win- and  big brother was going on to Showman of Showman.
Now, time to show fancy chickens. Middlest's birds.
But Middlest is being called to show in Intermediate Sheep Showmanship.
So, I recruited two of her teammates to show her birds and dashed off to the arena to watch Middlest. Middlest is a curious one. She is an animal kid. And showmanship is all about your relationship to your animal, but she had declared long ago she "hated" showmanship- except for poultry(maybe because she wins?). This year momma had put her foot down and  Middlest was trying it.
And she shined. The only competitor showing a wool breed, she had to work a bit differently, but, she is a quiet showman, and her ewes are calm and sweet- because she makes them so. The judge started pulling kids out into the line. In showmanship the last one pulled out is the winner, and Middlest stayed in the ring, as child after child was pulled for the line up. Finally with only 4 left showing, the judge pointed to her, and she had placed, respectably, wonderfully, fourth. After finishing the placings, the judge went to speak to some of the showmen. He was wonderfully encouraging to Middlest and gave her a bunch of suggestions. On the microphone he spoke about her quiet control of her sheep and how he wanted to see her back in the ring again next year. When she left the ring, our Showmanship Advisor was so excited and pleased for her, he gave her a big hug, and another dose of encouragement.
Of the things that stand out for her this year, that class was the best.
Now, another mad dash back to the poultry tent to find out that in the huge field of of about 30 pens of Fancy Chickens, Middlest's were 5th best!
And Youngest had also shown his ducks while we were in the arena, managing to find a friend to help him show the birds and make it to the tent all without help from me or Huz- but certainly help from the other wonderful families of our club. His ducks placing fourth! With a big grin on his red, sweaty face, he presented his ribbon, perched jauntily in his pocket and said "We're done!" So are the Wenders- they have patiently waited through the whole day and then as all happens at once, bounced back and forth trying to catch the kids at their best, and now, must drive back to Pennsylvania. Hugs, love, wish we could've "hung out" more, but that isn't what The Fair is about.
And so we are done- with that day's shows.....
And back to Cowfeathers, to do barn chores, and for Eldest to whip up a tray of manicotti, Youngest to create two loaves of strawberry bread and get together their menus, place settings and posters for tomorrows food project judging.
Only, when we arrive home
we don't have
electricity.
Ahh, The Fair.

Day 2- Poultry and Sheep! Part 1

Day one leaves us a bit wrung out, but day two is the day where the energy reserves are most needed. Early wake up to march up to the barns in the fog, parents stumbling out of campers, golf carts coming back from coffee runs to the Speedway fuel station, and the sounds of disturbed poultry coming from the last barn. The turkeys are in a tiff, as their feathers get wiped clean and they see new toms strutting  around close by. They puff up and display their tails, becoming instant puff balls with deep red and blue heads. Truly, if red, white and blue are the patriotic colors, the 4-H turkey tom is a most patriotic bird. (Ben, you were on to something in many ways). We are there to bathe Middlest's chickens. Giving chickens a bath was not an event I had ever contemplated before The Fair.
Bathing chickens in a bucket of water with ivory soap, gently cleaning their feathers so they aren't damaged was something that fascinated me at first. Now, it just makes my hands cold and my clothes wet. I don't do the actual bathing, but I am the official Mom in the "Here, Mom, hold my chicken." I have long been working on cultivating a team atmosphere in the 4-H club, in hopes of hearing another subject inserted in that sentence. Now, with two wet chickens and a poultry show starting in two hours, the next step is blow drying the chickens. My hairdryer is used for melting frozen pipes and blow drying feathers in addition to special beauty days. Chickens don't really mind having the full spa treatment, and look rather pleased when they are clean and dry and fluffy. The barn is buzzing now, with kids everywhere rubbing baby oil into chicken combs and rubbing Vaseline into duck feet. Girls in double french braids, trimmed with bows and boys with close cropped hair march back and forth from the water pump, cleaning, preening, taking care to make sure their enormous meat chicken has not a speck of poop on their feathers or feet.
Then, the call to the barn for the first class of turkeys.
Kids start walking their turkeys to the show tent. The turkeys puff out and slowly make their way, kids bent over at the waist, guiding them with a hand held out here, or a more effective steering of the turkey with both hands. The kids crouch down next to their birds, waiting for their turn with the judge. Then when the judge comes to them they stand, put the bird's head between their spread legs, bend over and grab the turkey's legs and flip them over and upside down- all 40-50 lbs of turkey. The turkey calmly hangs down, wings spread, blood rushing into their little heads, the body resting on the show-ers thigh. Youngsters arms tremble with the effort of holding the turkey at chest height. The judge feels the breast and the drumsticks and hemms and hawws... compares two upside down birds at a time and eventually chooses the best turkey dinner.
And the poultry show has begun.

Photos, Day One of The Fair

The Combine Derby heating up!

Pictures, pictures! I know! So, before we get to day 2 of The Fair, how about some photos from the first day?

Hay Bale tossing.

Mikey and Middlest round the arena.

They bring home a pretty green ribbon!

Tucker and Cricket await the judges results.

And do rather well! Youngest with his friend helped.

Our Queen candidate atop her coach approaches the grandstands.

Day One- The Fair 2011

The clock says it's 10. The windows show darkness. So, I'm going with p.m.
Youngest and Eldest are dashing around the kitchen, flour flying out of the mixer, Eldest madly flailing at a can of tomatoes with a blunt instrument, thinking the top might open under this assault as the can opener was taken to the camper at The Fair, and we are home preparing for tomorrow's judgings. Eldest is making a stab at creating manicotti, Youngest conjuring up strawberry bread. Both successfully managing to make a colossal mess. There will be mashed berriies, ricotta cheese and parmesan to pry off the floor, counter, and burners, the sink a glued mess of flour and water. Ahh, The Fair.
I have chicken poop all down my hip and an entire big cup of iced tea dried on my person, but we had no power when we arrived home, and when the miracle of power arrived, we were deep into the process of making food without modern convenience, and quickly before it was too dark to see. I in my position as main Answerer of Questions. "Well, I'd use the potato masher to smash the strawberries. The Parmesan is in the cheese drawer in the fridge. Yes, you do have to break the egg in a small bowl first." So, I have yet to try to become one of the clean.
We have made it through the first two, most grueling for us, days of The Fair. Monday morning dawned early, with a former race horse that hadn't been ridden in a week expected to perform calmly in the horse show arena with Middlest showing in her first class requiring a canter (this the third fastest gait of the horse, the only one faster being the gallop- a gait a race horse excells at..)
So, down to the arena at an early hour to get some of Mikey's pent up energy out. He was a star, and did a great job of spreading the energy around. I went running with him- he's a great jogging partner. He's polite, doesn't cut you off, and keeps a strong pace. I thought that early morning run would be my exercise for the day. Optimist. Ahh, The Fair.
We waited throughout the morning, as class after class showed in the arena. Lunchtime came and went, with hours left before her first class.
The clouds gathered, the wind picked up. We closed up the trailer and decided to hoof it back to the barn, give Mike a break from the action and see how things were going at the dog show. Youngest was showing Dog Obedience, and I didn't want to miss it. The way things were going  at the horse arena, we had plenty of time. So we went a sat in the dog show watching the amazingly well behaved canines shown by the eldest participants. I had another Mom at the horse show sending me periodic texts to keep me apprised of the pace at the horse arena, about 1/2-3/4 of a mile from the dog show. I got a text that said they were moving faster due to the coming storm. Then another text saying it was moving really fast, then increasingly urgent texts saying "Come Down NOW!" We left the dog show, wishing Youngest best of luck, and hoping to make it back to see him show. When we arrived at the horse barn to collect the horse and head the 1/2 mile to the arena, the Advisor running the horse show was there in her golf cart to charge down with Middlest so she could dress rapidly. ( Advisor is also Middlest's instructor and wanted her to not miss her classes!)
So, they zoomed off in the golf cart, leaving Mom to have another run with the horse. This one in the rain, and at an even faster pace. My toes still hurt. Running in muddy horse boots not the best choice.
We had the horse tacked up just in time for warm up. Then she showed her first class, being nervous and a bit more scattered than usual- this kid is a quiet rider- and placed 7th in a fairly large class.
Then, as she went in to her second class, Huz called to say Youngest was in the ring with Tucker, starting to show. And I was going to miss it. Ahh, The Fair.
Middlest placed 5th in a steady downpour, earning a pretty green ribbon.
Up at the dog show...
Huz: "He did great!"
Youngest: "It was fun!"
My males aren't big on details.
This is what I found out from squeezing all eyes present:
He and Tucker were excellent. They had a  nearly flawless presentation, losing only 9 points out of 230, and crushing the competition. Until.... the long sit. This is where you tell your dog to sit. Then you tell him to stay. Then you walk away and stand at the end of the leash and wait. The dog should stay. Tucker is good at this. No, Tucker is the best at this. Tucker is a sitter of champion quality. Youngest said "Sit." Tucker sat. Youngest said "Stay!" Tucker stayed. Youngest went out to the end of the leash. Tucker STOOD. Ugh. Then, sensibly, he sat back down, and completed the exercise. But they were toast. 20 points gone. This put them into a close second, and still, a grand performance.
The Big Dog of The Fair  ( the guy in charge of the dog show) encouraged Youngest to take Tucker to the Ohio State Fair Dog Show. Obedient boy.
By now, it was evening, and time to line up for The Fair Parade. So, our club, in their new day-glo yellow shirts and trailed by our Queen Candidate in the bed of a vintage orange pick up, marched around The Fairgrounds. Queens perched on hoods of Camaros and truckbeds, in the rain, holding dainty umbrellas and wearing summer dresses, hair in curls.
At this juncture we were joined by one of my favoritest friends ever, Wenders (high school)  and her family of WendyHuz, and four terrific, personable, smart kids. I love this bunch. They marched with us, then watched the Queen and King Contest, cheering on the show-wers of hogs and raisers of steers as they answered questions for the crowd and judges. "What makes 4-H valuable?" "What is your favorite 4-H memory?" Questions were answered, crowns awarded and Best of Show pies, cakes and breads auctioned off. We were the proud winners of a 4 layer chocolate cake and an apple pie.
Then, a quick bite at the camper- Huz had whipped up a french dip in the crock pot and an excellent potato salad, and then we headed to the not-to-be-missed Combine Derby.
Five huge combines, decorated like OSU football helmets, US Flags and camo skidding around in a sea of mud, smashing each other to smithereens, and declaring in spray paint on the sides "Kill Cancer!" "U.S.A!" and "Anti- Obama!" Oh, my. Ahhh, The Fair.
As the sun was starting to set, we set off for Cowfeathers home, with the Wenders to do barn chores and return the dog. Barn chores were at first fascinating to our guests, but watching poop get moved around gets tiring to watch after an hour or so.
Chasing fireflies is more fun.
As it neared pumpkin-transformation-time, the Wenders headed to their hotel, and we headed back to The Fair. For another round of barn chores. Clean the pens, stalls, new water, full food, safety check. And the campers for fellowship of late night recap, generous sharing of coolers and the chirps and squeals of trucks "running mud" in the background. Ahh, The Fair.

PCF 2011!

I'm at the tail end of the eighth round trip to the Fairgrounds today, and friends, the Fair has begun! For anyone who has not had the privilege of attending a county fair, each year, I share the doin's of the best entertainment country living has to offer.
We have moved in the stuff- tack trunks, bales of shaving, hay and straw, manure forks, buckets and rakes, water buckets, feed buckets, feed, tack, brushes, clippers, stands, and animals- Mikey the horse, Evelyn and Eleanor the yearling ewes, two hens and two ducks.
The traditional Thursday- afternoon -of -the -fair downpour arrived several days early this year, around 5 p.m. We were in the horse barns, with all doors and windows battened down and the rain coming down through the roof all around. We found a dry-ish spot and waited it out. Now, the fairgrounds are an amusement park ride in themselves, with even my huge truck in four wheel drive sliding around like a skid steer. (Hmmm, is that something non-coun'ry people have heard of?)
The day was "pandelirium" with horse racing going on and the arrival of all the 4-H'ers, projects and families, as well as carnies, vendors and fried food trailers galore. All this through the one gate the grounds committee remembered to open. I had pulled my rig in to the horse barns in the morning to unload the first round of "stuff", only to find myself blocked in , so had to go forth into the unknown, ending up driving a slalom course through 100 years of tractors.
The combines began arriving today as well. These are machines once used for harvesting, now being used for the local happening called the Combine Derby. This is a demolition derby using combines. Truly. This is one of the combines, an entrant from the Hines farm. Elmer Hines always has at least one combine in the derby.

On the side, in orange paint is the sentiment "You will be missed Linda". I can only hope that this is because Linda decided not to drive in the Combine Derby this year. But, perhaps Linda was a real fan of the Combine Derby, and is no longer with us. In any case, currently, my vote is for Linda's combine to shred in the Derby! And, I can only hope that when I'm gone, I get a shout out in dayglo orange too.
Directly after the downpour, the Games began. Members on our club formed teams and competed against teams from other clubs in games. There were traditional games, like the egg toss and the tug-o-war, but also more faircentric contests like milk chugging and hay bale tossing. All our team members conducted themselves with good sportsmanship and ferocious competition. Let me tell you, no one else stood a chance in milk chugging.
So now, with things in place, and one trip back to the camper remaining before the clock strikes midnight and I can recharge for the first day of showing tomorrow.
Horse show and dog show are up first!

How many Cates does it take to screw in a light bulb?  If there isn't a ladder, just find a monkey.

Mikey actually standing still! Mostly because he was riveted by the horses racing by in the left of the photo. Soon he will begin cantering in frantic circles hoping to join in.....

Happy Birthday, and Here We Go!

It's here! What we've all been working for since last fall- The County Fair! Today saw an early morning of washing and crutching the ram, cleaning all stalls and decorating the big one on the end with a Happy Birthday poster and streamers, as it is Middlest's actual birthday. Her present is Mikey, and he tolerated me tying a big green floppy bow around his neck, and then waiting for Middlest to eventually present herself. He looked a bit resigned, "what did I get myself into?", but calmly submitted to the indignity while Middlest took her sweet time joining me at the barn. Then, as Huz served up sourdough pancakes at the picnic table, the farrier applied yet another shoe to Oslo's foot. I can't eat the pancakes anyway, so better to skip the torture.
Now, Middlest bathing the chickens, Huz picking up the corn I forgot on the dock at the feedstore, and then we're off to pick up the camper.
All fair, all the time!
Here we go!

Middlest is thirteen!

For Middlest's 13th birthday, she wanted a Cowfeathers Birthday. Hers is the ideal birthday time of year to have a gathering here, the weather is beautiful, the flowers are in bloom, and we aren't plying guests whose families heat their homes with sweaters to supplement their inadequate wardrobe choice. Likewise the breeze is blowing and no one notices we don't air condition either. Middlest decided to put her friend, Emma, to work as "Maven of Jewels" for the party. Emma has her own business making and selling jewelry- Emma's Elegance- and she has a sensational selection of baubles to make into adornment. So, she asked if Emma would bring her big bin of beads and allow each guest to create their own accessory.
Emma obliged, toting in a wonderful assortment of colorful, textural, interesting and individual doodads, perfect for getting the creative juices a- flowing. The girls all snacked on candy necklaces while they pawed through the bead bin, pulling out what struck their fancy.

The Birthday Girl gets help from Emma clasping on her jewelry creation.

The guests in their new creations.

After beading, they adjourned to the picnic table for Middlest's menu choices; fruit salad, watermelon, Cheez-its and Chex mix. Pink lemonade with rose petals for drinks.

Her birthday cake was strawberry cake with buttercream frosting, decorated with candy made into a necklace on the top, and candy swagging on the sides.

  After cake, they presents were revealed, and then on to the favorite party game of all three of my kids; Candy Stop. This is a game that mostly involves acquiring candy. This makes my children all very happy. Other children, perhaps those who actually are used to having candy, and not willing to suffer the anticipation of getting yelled at enmasse, don't enjoy the game quite as much. See, in Candy Stop, you put an assortment of candies out on the table, not touching, and the person who is "it" leaves the room so they can't see. The next person in the circle points to one piece of candy on the table. This is the "STOP" candy. All the guests, except the one who is "it" now know which piece is the "STOP" piece. The person who is "it" comes back, opens their bag, and starts choosing, one candy piece at a time. When they touch the "STOP" piece, all the guests yell "STOP!!!" really loudly. Causing the "it" person to pull their hand back from the offending piece like it is a hot coal and jump backwards in fright. Knowing that when you touch one piece of candy, a wall of sound will hit you making your heart shrink is enough to make some kids really slow choosers. Their hand hovers over the table, wanting badly not to choose the one piece guaranteed to make the candy a little less sweet. Others choose rapidly, wanting to get it over. Some choose the kind of candy they don't like first, figuring it less likely to betray them. This is a game we played at every party I had growing up too. It fits in with the family philosophy. Candy is okay, as long as it comes with a healthy dose of psychological warfare.

 Also in attendance for the party were:

The bad dog, who ate the first cake.

Middlest's flock of birds, social and wanting to share in the celebration. (And any wayward scraps of chex mix or watermelon rind.)

And a shaved cat.

Birthday Party Day!

The weed wacker is screaming on the fence rows, wielded by Huz, the kids are making Chex Mix- double sauce stuff, the sheep are malcontents-as always (In? Well, they want out. Out? Well, they want in.) and telling us about it, ponies are grazing their morning graze, the cake is in the fridge and today is a Birthday Party! My baby girl, Middlest, turns 13 next weekend. Her Birthday weekend always corresponds to Move-In at The Fair. This is a difficult time to pull off a celebration. For a few years, we managed it, but then as our Fair involvement got more intense, a party was, um,too crazy. Last year we celebrated at the camper site at The Fair, after all the livestock shows that the kids were showing in were past. It was fun, but this year, Middlest wanted a "regular" birthday party.
So, we are in Birthday Prep.
We do love a party!

15 "extra" minutes.

Dolores with Evelyn (white lamb) and Everest(colored lamb).

So, in the few moments I have between coming home from work and heading out to the 4-H Office for Georgia's early judging on her clothing project, which is actually late, because for some reason (insert sigh here) the clothing projects are all judged before the fair- by a few weeks and we were at the wedding instead of the clothing judging and Style Show- I thought I could get started on the registrations for Middlest's sheep. This seems like it should be straight forward. Like filling out a registration for your car. Only, it is more akin to preparing your taxes. NOT a project for filling an unclaimed 15 minutes. To be fair, the process could have been made much more smooth by perseverance. See, it would be easy to register Evelyn and Eleanor if their parents were properly registered and transferred. This should have been done about two or three years ago. But. It never happened. So, now I'm trying to figure out how to get this all done. Cesar is our ram. He is not registered. He was born to a ewe my mother owns who was bred by a ram in Virginia owned by Overlook Manor Farm. My mom bought the ewe already bred, and her transfer was never recorded by the American Border Leicester Association. In order to register, and then show Evelyn and Eleanor, Cesar needs to be registered. In order to register Cesar I need to have a transfer of Cesar to us, and the transfer from Overlook Manor to my mom of Cesar's mom. I also need a breeding certification certificate from Overlook Manor that says that their ram bred my mom's ewe. Also, in order to register Evelyn and Eleanor, their moms need to be registered. This is simple for Dolores, mother of Evelyn, as she was properly transferred and recorded. But the transfer was not performed for Dancer.
I also need to know the numbers of all involved animals. This is particularly difficult because the rules state  "It is necessary that sheep be designated by the flock name or character and the number such as “Jones 46″ or “HZH 234″. Names may also be included but must be accompanied by the flock name and assigned number. "But I'm mystified as to the number's origins. Do I just make up a number?
Hmm.
And the fees. They appear to be doubled if you are not a member of The American Border Leicester Association (I am not) and maybe doubled if the animal is not registered within a year (which they are not), but I am unclear as to the original fee. Transfers same as registers? Breeding certificate fees? Are transfers not recorded within a year of transfer also double? Should I just send an enormous check and hope it covers it? I need Evelyn and Eleanor registered, I need Cesar registered and transferred. I need Dancer transferred, Cesar's mom transferred and a breeding certificate from another farm. I need signatures from people in Maryland and Virginia and Ohio to send to an office in Iowa.
Does H&R Block do sheep registrations?

4-Hcentric.

I have begun to get emails from friends that have similar questions posed within. "When is the County Fair, and are you going to write about it again?" pretty much sums it up.
I have been writing about The Fair for a few years. If you were on my email list, you got a daily treatise on The County Fair through my eyes. I wrote because it was worth seeing. And, many of the folks on the email list found The Fair to be an amusing trip to a place visited before only with Wilbur and Templeton.
This year, I shall be able to write about it in this arena.
Fair prep has not only begun, but the burner is set on about medium right now. By next week we'll be on medium high, and then, boil. The kids are rising early and on their own, headed out to the barn, or straight to the work table. This morning, Middlest washed both her ewe lambs, starting the process that will make them bright white and curly by Fair. They are not very halter-broken, so stand forlornly baaahing with their heads extended out straight on the end of the lead line, eyes rolling back into their heads. Evelyn threw herself on her side in protest, legs straight out in the air. I set her back on her feet- not easy to do with a wet 100 lb sheep- and she baahed and threw herself right back on her side. Eldest had appeared, to ask a question about her current pasting project and in an effort to help held the end of the lead and pleaded hopelessly with Evelyn to get on her feet. ( I told her the sheep would bloat right up and stop breathing if she left her on her side. I amuse myself.) Middlest has some work to do with those lambs!
Middlest also bathed her show birds. Bathing chickens is just another thing that struck me as ridiculous several years ago. Now... well, we keep an old wash tub and a bar of Ivory for chicken washing.
The show birds are a pair of year old Australorp hens she selected back in February to keep separate from the rest of the flock and away from the roosters. They are housed in the Winter Palace portion of the chicken house, with french doors, hydrangea wallpaper and little windows, open now and with a fan to keep them cool. They go outdoors, into the shade only, either in the dog crate with the bottom removed so they can scratch, or under strict supervision to protect them from the roos. See, the roosters will jump on their backs to breed the hens, and in doing so, grab the feathers on the hen's head and neck, pulling some out everytime. Bald hens are frowned upon. We know this because Eldest showed a bald hen and her matching rooster- with broken tail feathers- and the judge dismissed them from the judging, stating they were "fine breeders", but apparently, not fine fancy chickens. Also, since Australorps are black, they are kept out of direct sun before showing because it dulls the green sheen of their feathers. Middlest's birds are a deep black/green. After bath, Middlest let them wander the lawn, eating bugs and drying off, while Arthur-itis (our pretty Welsumer rooster with very crooked feet) patrolled the edges, hoping Middlest would get distracted and leave her charges unprotected. No luck for Art.
In less fine shape, but giddily happy about life are Youngest's Khaki Campbell ducks. They are much hugged and carried about, but they have broken feathers, and one of the three still has no feathers on her neck, a consequence of having been with a whole crowd of drakes (male ducks) before Youngest picked them out. Still, he bathed them, too, today, and optimistically applied baby oil to the naked neck of the one with duck pattern baldness. It is his first time showing ducks, and the subtleties of duckmanship are yet to be acquired.
Eldest worked on her fair booth displays- 4 of them, making little posters about Swedish soup (Global Gourmet), business phone calls(Leadership), handwriting fonts (Scrapbooking) and a family tree (Geneology). All the projects that don't have an animal at The Fair must have a display in the club booth. She also got her Thank You Poster completed, as did Youngest. The Thank You Posters will be displayed in the show arena during the fair. I have yet to see Middlest's Thank You Poster, but it is in the works. She had an afternoon riding lesson, which we chose to have at the fairgrounds to give Mikey his first look at where he'll be spending Fair Week. There is also a racetrack at the fairgrounds, and Mike being an ex-racehorse, I wanted to see his demeanor when the ponies went by on the fly. He was pretty contained, but rather interested. Middlest does a very nice job of riding him, and keeping him focused. She stays quiet and calm- just right.
Tomorrow is another day of 4-Hcentric living, followed by another. And another......

Wedding bliss.

In the eighties a little book came out about Preppy Things. It was little in size, pink and green and was meant to be witty. And there was another one, maybe entitled "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche." This started a rash of small books with one thing written on each page, meant to inspire us, make us laugh, and acquire some of our dollars. One of these books was red plaid, and the title had something to do with Life Lessons, or Live, Laugh,...something. Anyway, inside, on each page, was a tidbit of advice on life. They were bon mots by folks of all ages. Some were funny, some poignant, some just plain cheeeeeesy. But I remember my parents pointing out one in particular. I cannot quote it directly, but it was something like "Your choice of spouse will contribute 90% of both your happiness and your despair. Choose wisely."
It did stick with me, and what pressure there! 90% is too big a chunk to overcome. What if you don't choose wisely.? Bummer!
It looks like I did pretty well in the end, as nearly 18 years into my marriage, I'm happy 90% of the time. So, I guess the other 10% is all me.

Well, I took that choice of mine with me, and the kids, too, to a wedding this weekend. We climbed into Denty at dawn on Saturday and drove east into the sunrise. The day was a beautiful one, sunny and perfect temperature. We arrived an hour before the wedding, as planned, in our jammies. So, my nonplussed family piled out of the minivan, in the bottom of the church parking lot and changed into our wedding finery behind the car. This is where we all shake our heads. Really?   Italian suits and sundresses donned in the parking lot? Yep. And we looked all pressed and fresh walking into the church.
I do love weddings. This was a beautiful one, and the bride was just stunning. She was just a wee tyke when I met her in the late 80's, so I bet she never read the little plaid book with life lessons inside. It seems, from what I could see that she did well anyway, and her prospects for 90% happiness are very good. Her groom was gracious and sweet and gentlemanly. I look forward to seeing pictures of their life together- mostly on the bride's parent's Facebook pages. No longer do we have to wait for Christmas cards to get a picture of  faraway friends- Facebook will be there for that. And that Internet connection is there, and led me to the bigger connection. The one made by going to this wedding. Bearing witness to their vows and watching a fine waltz of a father with his grown, gorgeous daughter. Strengthening little threads of friendship that connect us all. If we pay them no attention, the threads can become quite fragile, like the gossamer filaments of spider's web. But, just like the spun web, the threads are quite strong when they connect to something. The small effort of  packing up the family, getting Miss K. to take care of the farm and piling into the car made those threads connect and strengthen. Old friends, but still friends. I am proud of them all.

June! A.K.A. Fair Month

Well, this morning the calendar flipped over to the month of June. June is sucked up and packaged into one pursuit. The County Fair. We are now in the last household push to be "ready" for the Fair. This morning, Eldest is working on her Scrapbook, Middlest working on "Learning to Jump" (on horseback, not just up and down in your room), and Youngest is making strawberry bread- hard on the heels of pear bread and just prior to corn sticks in order to complete his "Let's Bake Quick Breads" project. The yearling ewe lambs are being "led" around by their noses ( one hand behind the ears, other hand beneath the chin) in order to be on their best behavior at the sheep show. The ducks are being subjected to regular holding and gentling, whilst youngest wonders aloud how to make them grow back the feathers on the backs of their necks. (Holy water?) Mikey the test horse has been to a show, a trail ride, a jumping lesson and a flat lesson in as many days. He's beginning to believe that the trailer does indeed return him to the same place. Fair Parade registrations are due today, the Fair Booth is hopefully coming along, the new Saddle and Sirloin Banner looks fabulous- for hanging in the show arena and the kids all have Thank You posters to design and create.
I need the farrier to come, ASAP!  Oslo is losing another shoe and Mikey needs to acquire a pair. Final arrangements for the Club tour of the Vet School need to be accomplished, Skillathon days planned, the Club pool party and last meeting before the Fair, the Club tour of the fairgrounds, all in build up for Move In Day at The Fair. Big stuff.
And, in there, somewhere, poor Middlest's Birthday. We'll celebrate a bit early in order to pull off a party not during the fair. With all the other hoopla, her birthday often gets a bit short shrifted (is that a word?). Bad deal. We always celebrate somehow, but with the other kids having February Birthdays - Birthday Month, Middlest's is stuck during Fair Month.
We will still celebrate and have a hoorah!
Ahh. June.
Ahhh, June.