Random Musings Friday: Fair-ly Fun

Happy Friday, y'all! Blue is now in "school" (which is what we call it in front of him and "daycare" after he goes to bed and we are discussing what we need to do next in his very bumpy transition) 3 days/week for 90 minutes/day. You would think that after 2 weeks, a child would understand that, in the grand scheme of things, 90 minutes a day is a blink of an eye. But perhaps I'm asking too much of a 12 month old. This is what happens when a Virgo and a drill sergeant procreate.

At any rate, we rewarded Blue after his first 2 days of school with a trip to the Kentucky State Fair last Friday. We went, we saw, we ate a funnel cake, we watched some baby chicks hatch, and I saw a prize cow. All in all, a rockin good time. Here are a few pictures I snapped right before my phone died. (Note to self: your iPhone will never last all day and all night. Not ever. Buy at least 3 more chargers for all of your various homes and cars.)

Blue meets a donkey. Well, an ass. Well, the ass of an ass. 

 This is probably the closest I'll ever get to Lil' Sebastian. And I didn't even get a hoof print.

I lose my mind over the leaping chicks...cuter than a birthday sloth. Neal sees it as a cruel game created for our entertainment. I say they are chicks and their brains are the size of my mole. Somewhere out there, someone is holding food just out of my reach and laughing as I hurdle myself for it and then tumble into a pool of dirty chick-pee water.

I know it's easy to get caught up in the cook-off event held today that seems to revolve around butter, but let me draw your attention to the one that was last Monday. For Spam. How did I miss that? Next year I vow to get a fair schedule well in advance.

This is a cake. A second place cake. Someone got royally screwed out of a blue ribbon. Or they don't know the right people. Or they were screwing the wrong people. I don't know...but something is not right here.

Yes, Blue is walking and holding a pen. He also walks and holds forks, mini baseball bats, and scissors. The phrase "you'll put your eye out" holds no water with him.

So this is the 1st place cake. Granted, it's pretty good. And there is a wee bit of defying gravity with that whole right angle made of cake. But still...someone sat and hand-rolled a bunch of "gumballs". That has to trump a right angle and a cake suspended upside down. Maybe not.

 The FFA would like to take this opportunity to remind you not to let your children of the corn play in the corn.

We didn't bring enough cash to the fair. Apparently, Life Takes Visa, but not the guy selling chocolate-covered corn dogs. So, I missed out. But there's always next year. Or this weekend.

There is a song on Toddler Radio called "Chicks Hatching in our Classroom Incubator" and it's really quite a catchy little tune. He sings all about how they got the eggs from a special farm in Idaho and they've made a sign for the chicks and everything, but now they wait...And I had that stupid song stuck in my head for the rest of the night after seeing these little guys. But really, when does a city girl get to see a chick hatch? It makes me want to buy an incubator.

If you will look under the cow's front foot, you will see a small sign that reads "milk me please". I was holding Blue and in a dress so squatting 2' off the ground for longer than it takes to pick up a pacifier up off the floor was never going to happen, but Neal refused as well. And he claims he's part country boy. When would a country boy ever pass up the opportunity to milk something?

We got up close and personal with the cows. The fine folks who bring these cattle to the state fair camp out with them. Right next to them. It's a whole lifestyle that I know nothing about. But it makes me wonder...after you've shared stall-space with a cow, don't you feel the least bit guilty about sending them off to be slaughtered? Or do they just look like little 4-legged house payments with a bell around the neck?

And speaking of milking things...here's a goat being mechanically milked. This is kind of how I looked during my 6 weeks of pumping. And usually someone was sitting there, watching.

A cow getting sheared. At one point, I said to Neal, "when we retire, we should be farmers!" and Neal, in all of his wisdom, advised me not to let the state fair romanticize the difficult manual labor it takes to be a farmer. Apparently, he can tell when someone's got "it" and I ain't got it.

I really only took this for my 3 readers who are avid Twilight fans. This bunny has red eyes and is from the Twilight Bunny Brewery. I'm pretty sure that's not a coincidence. Bella? Are you in there? Blink once for yes and twice for "I am a pathetic excuse for an actress."

If anyone decides to make the asinine move to get Blue a bunny for Easter (read: DON'T), at least make it this one. He makes me giggle every. single. time. I think it's because he knows how ridiculous he looks. And yet I really just want to smother him with Eskimo kisses.

On the opposite end of things is this guy. He has that "I will murder you in your sleep" written all over his beady red eyes.

Apparently, prize-winning pigeons are a thing at the state fair. I took several pictures for Shana because who better to be entertained by this than someone who lives in a city that's got 1:1 ratio of pigeons to people? But this girl has ruffles. I'm pretty sure she doesn't hail from Queens. I still think they are nasty, aggressive little beasts, but at least she has a ball gown to show off.

That's all for the state fair. This weekend is the Annual Buttermilk Festival in Bardstown, complete with the crowning of a Miss Buttermilk. And also a Buttermilk After Party. I'm not sure what that is but Neal just told me he doesn't want to go because it might go sour. Yes, folks...he'll be here all weekend.

Cheers to you! May your fairs be filled with fried burgers on a doughnut bun and your beer line short!