It's also the farm wife version of the Olympics. It's farm wives' chance to show that they ain't messing around when it comes to their quilts and canned preserves. And I can proudly say I placed in all of my sports (if you consider that one pesky honorable mention).
I decided to enter a couple of aprons this year to see if I really had what it takes to create my apron empire (you know, the one that is going to make me rich).
That blob of fabric is my entry for the "fancy apron" category. They smoosh them all together under a clear plastic tablecloth to "display" them for everyone to see. This apron got first place in its category. And my other one took second in the kitchen apron category. So I now have the validation I need to continue on with my apron empire. I will call my banker tomorrow morning and warn him that the millions are going to start rolling in shortly.
I entered strawberry jam and plum jelly like I do every year. I got third place and an honorable mention ribbon. Blah. I guess I should be happy given all of the competition.
We briefly walked through the midway last night but didn't ride any rides. My husband is convinced that the second he gets on the ferris wheel, that will be the time it tips over and collapses. But you better believe that I will go back tonight and at least partake in some funnel cake and fried oreos.
But it was the baby goats that really stole my heart this year. If they would just stay that size, I would probably have a house full of them.
We end each fair night at the main event, which varies from truck and tractor pulls, to demolition derbies and tough truck competitions. Not exactly my cup of tea. I'm just there for the people watching. And last night's demolition derby was a gold mine. I have no idea where these people come from.
My favorites are the people who wear fake spurs, pleather boots with shiny metal decorative tips and shirts with lightening bolts, wolverines and/or running horses -- thinking their wardrobe trickery will fool us into thinking they are real cowboys. And then there is the new trend around here of chicks who tuck their skinny jeans into their lace-up work boots. Huh? Really? I'm no fashionista, but even I know that outfits like that will eventually lead to a life of wearing muumuus and house shoes around town.