Auburn Fair 2008

As if I didn't get enough of dealing with jackasses during the day, I decided to hang around with a few last night. At least this one wasn't trying to explain away the feces lying around his living space. It was after noon and his breath didn't reek of alcohol and cheap menthol cigarettes either. Actually, it was quite refreshing making his acquaintance. He told me he had a pretty sweet part time job as a mascot for a certain county political movement.

The amazement continued in the dairy barn. This is the response when I told Ethan that the darker Holsteins are the ones that give the chocolate milk...

While some of us enjoy the annual trek through the livestock area, others in the family simply tolerate the experience with the promise of a bag of carmel corn, elephant ears, and a lemon shake-up. On the way home, we pondered whether there might have been a tattoo and piercing convention in town the same week as the fair. There seemed to be a significant population present who opted for ink instead of orthodontia.

Over the years, the Auburn fair makes me wish I had animals of my own. As I get older though, I sure appreciate getting up and throwing down kibble instead of feeding and caring for something like this. It reminded me of a book I would like to read soon. NPR interviewed the author who bought a New England farm and lived there with his Border Collies, donkeys, and sheep. It talked about how he helped neighbors bring home lost cattle at all hours with his dogs and the tranqiulity of the country. It also talked about

how his wife chose to live in town and only visit the farm. I guess I don't understand how that works. A marriage doesn't mean that you stamp out your dreams and toss them away, but

it doesn't mean that you pursue things exclusive of your spouse. Amy and I have had chances both together and separately to live in the country. I can honestly say that it has worked out great for both of us being "city slickers." I find that God provides what you need and lays the path in front of you. There is a reason that a lamp lights the path and not a spotlight. The light of the lamp illuminates only your next step and not the whole path. The narrow path is harder to negotiate sometimes, but eases up with a partner you love and trust helping you over the deadfalls and snags. It is 22 years ago today that Amy and I met at North Side's homecoming dance. We will celebrate that tonight by watching our oldest son wear his dad's number and continue the tradition, nourishing the turf at Chamber's Field with blood and sweat like so many others before us.

The roar of the crowd on Friday night, the wafting essence of charcoal smoke, and the cadence of the drum corps is my choosing tonight. Whenever the thought of country life creeps into my thoughts, a geriatric Border Collie with a wanderlust, roving packs of Shih-tzu's, and a cantankerous growling rabbit will have to satiate any underlying agrarian fantasies being conjured in my mind.