A Weekend oh-Fair

I never imagined that I would be one of those folks walking through the dairy barn in August and telling my children, "These black and white ones are Holsteins, they make milk! See those pink sacks, that's where it comes from. Cows are nice, they won't bite ya!"

You see, I am a farm kid. Born and raised. No one ever told me those words, it was just something I knew, and thought everyone else knew too. Then me and my siblings started showing our best and most beautiful Holsteins in the 4-H program and spending time at the Cache and State Fairs. Ha! Was I surprised. I couldn't believe how clueless those barn wanderers were about animals. City kids!

My father's dairy farm is gone now and a new generation has come to his family. A generation that has never been in a milk barn or seen a calf born in the yellow straw or shoveled poop. Kind of sad how quickly a way of life can disappear. However, Dad only misses the fun parts. I know there were lots of things about farming that were not fun. 

Talia and Roo loved the cows, pigs, chickens and lambs at the fair. (Ruby was especially enamoured with all the horses at the Rodeo and the floppy eared bunnies.)  I am proud of my little batch of city kids.  

Ruby does some tire modeling. Me and DJ had fun explaining what all the equipment was used for. Talia really enjoyed the baler wagons and the swather.

Of course we dropped about $100 bucks to let the girls enjoy the flashy fair rides, see the rodeo and eat lots of hot dogs and cotton candy. I think I walked about 10 miles. Fun for all!