It had been over 15 years since I last ventured into the Fairgrounds. As a teenager I would go with my dad and mom annually. My father worked for a Ford Dealership and would drive a new car up to the Fairgrounds for the day, and we would get in for free, wander around taking in the smells and the sights. Cowboys, cowgirls, burgers, pumpkins, carnival rides, crafts, tractors and more. I remember the smell of the animals, the dust coming from the arena as the barrel racers navigated the course, the snorting pigs, the cowboy hats, the wranglers, the dream that one day I too would be a cowgirl, perched atop my horse.
Who can say no to a bag of fresh sugar coated mini-donuts at 10:00 a.m.? Not my family.
Fast forward a million years later and things haven't really changed. There was no barrel racing to my dismay, but there was plenty of wranglers, cowboy hats, burgers and cows. The smell of horses and dust lingered in the air.
Little B found out first hand why you should always keep 1 eye on the ground when walking around the animal pens. He nearly vomited as his sandal clad foot oozed into a fresh warm pile of cow crap!
I don't think he has the makings of a cowpoke! He sure looked the part with the hat, but in his heart he's urban.