A Fair Fair

I love the state fair. I can’t help myself. I know there are others who shall remain nameless (okay, it’s Hauf) who hate the noise and the….hmmm, I’m not sure what she hates about the fair. But the whole shebang really appeals to me. Or so I thought a short time ago when I spent five days and nights there. Then I realized there are only a few things I really like about the fair. Namely, the food, the animals and the people watching. I don’t think there’s anywhere in the world that has better people watching. As a writer I know I should say that I’m fascinated by the diverse personalities etc that manifest themselves at the fair. And that’s true. After dark those ummmm unique individuals really shine. I was helping my daughter remove her riding boots when some guy who may or may not have had a couple kegs too many came by and offered to help. Before we could decline, he was yanking at her foot like a dog on a t-bone. Interesting. There was also a eighty year old gentleman chasing a hog through the cattle barn, a vendor feeding a horse (mine actually) cotton candy, and a troop of cyclists who had dressed their bikes up like flamingos. But I must confess, it was the cowboy changing shirts by the stalls across from me that intrigued me most. I can honestly say I had forgotten real guys were built that way. There was all this muscle, tan, toned lovely muscle. I literally stopped in my tracks, mumbled something inarticulate and stumbled away. Later, when he had his shirt on and was milling around with a couple of friends, I realized I could no longer recognize which one he was. Turns out I hadn’t actually noticed his face. Huh!

Short of ogling half naked cowboys, I spent a good deal of time in the goat barn. Recently I’ve been lamenting the fact that I don’t know where my milk comes from. And I drink a lot of milk. So I’ve been considering adding a dairy goat or two to the menagerie. To say my husband thinks this is a poor idea would be an under statement of major proportions. But think of it. Fresh organic, raw milk at your fingertips. (Literally) I realize this might not appeal to everyone, but it’s supposed to be extremely nutritious. In fact, raw milk is reputed to reduce cellulite, a possibility I find increasingly appealing. But mostly I want a goat because they’re so dang cute. Seriously…how darling are these little faces?! Apparently, the Nubians, which are adorable, can produce 1-2 gallons of milk a day, a lot even for this family. So I inquired about the darling little Nigerian Dwarfs. At a production rate of 1-2 quarts a day they seem more manageable. So I collected business cards, generic information and memories.

What of you? What do you find most fascinating about the fair? Any childhood memories? Any late summer romances? Or do you avoid it all like the black plague?

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