Today, my family visited Scio, Oregon for the annual county fair. We got a wonderful taste of true country life. As we drove down a winding road to the fair we passed many indications that, yes we were in the country. Old barns with the paint peeling, cows peppering the countryside, an old man in his overalls next to a fire pit with a pipe hanging out of his mouth...Finally we reached the sight of the fair. We pulled off onto a street and started walking. Just then, we heard music playing.
"We're gonna miss the parade!" My mom yelled, "Come on guys, lets run."
So our family ran down the street to be greeted by a dozen kids on tricycles and half as many moms parading down the street. Oh, boy. Cade and I exchanged looks. It was going to be a looong day. Following this we saw, a school band, two church groups, several parade floats, numerous John Deeres', horses, and five men, my Grandpa's age, toodling around on go carts in a figure-eight fashion. The highlight of the experience (for Cade) was when a van advertising midwifery came along. A mom was running around passing out slips of paper for midwifing. She was trailed by about five kids. She tried to hand one to my mom. "Oh, I'm well past the birthing age," she said. The lady smiled, "Oh, of course." Then she looked at me. "Here you go."
Okay... Either a. It means I look pregnant. b. I'm the closest female who would require her services. Or c. I look like I'm planning to get pregnant.
After the parade we walked around the fairgrounds. It was exactly like fairgrounds are supposed to be. Numerous displays advertising, face painting, crocheted sweaters, tie die t-shirts, beaded indian works and COSTCO. There were stands serving elephant ears, sno-cones, ice cream, chicken and lemonade. Port-a-Poties dotted the grounds. The smell of smoke, live animals, and hamburgers drifted through the air. It was alive with the noise of several hundred people who had come to enjoy the county fair.
Emily and Ashley got to run around with the goats in the petting farm, while my Dad, Cade and I sat at a live cooking show and learned the benefits of sweet potatoes. After this, we got snow-cones and cotton candy.
The next attraction of the day was the sheep dog contest. We drove a couple miles to a sign that read:
CHAMPIONSHIP SHEEP DOG TRIALS. NO SPECTATOR CARS PAST THIS POINT.
We piled out of the car and were halfway there when we heard a voice behind us. "Hey! Have you guys been here yet?"
"Uuuh, no."
"Well, you have to pay, it's $5.00 a carload."
Cade happens to be the only one with cash left, so he reluctantly peels a 5 Dollar bill out of his wallet and hands it to the man.
"Have a great time."
As we neared the fence we noticed there was going to be a bit of a problem. For one thing, the sheep were about a football field away. "I thought there were going to be bleachers," my mom muttered as we took our seats on the grass under a thin canvas tent. A lively lady with a microphone kept us informed on the sheep.
A sign on the fence read:
"I didn't know sheep had tendencies to attack," one of us said.
We watched the dogs try to herd the sheep through several obstacles and finally into a pen. The smart dogs were trying to herd the less-than-smart sheep through and...well not doing quite so well. From behind us we heard a lady with a southern accent drawl, "Those sheep are 'bout as dumb as a box o' hammers."
The three of us tried not laugh.
The owners all had uniquely different techniques for directing their dogs. Some whistled, others yelled, one barked orders to hers in German. Only one dog succeeded in successfully corralling the sheep. The lady behind us shook her head, "That dog is jus' like a rodeo clown."
So, I learned something new today. It's not necessarily what you're doing, but who you're doing it with. That and I will never use a midwife for my delivery.
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