Oh, how I dearly love the fair!
We love to visit with the animals.
We say hi to the snoozing pigs.
We feel nervously scrutinized by chickens.
We wish we could pet a pile of ducklings.
We contemplate the doves.
We are contemplated by one.
We wonder which egg is best.
We take portraits of bunnies. Here's one I call "Bunny #1."
Aw! "Bunny #3"!
We eat marionberry shortcake (the marionberries and the shortcake are in there somewhere, I think).
We admire the winners.
We appreciate the skills.
We offer a strand of hay to the dairy cows.
We share frozen lemonade.
We feel our stomachs drop while watching.
We giggle (along with their dance teacher) at the dragony dancers.
We buy moccasins from the mountain man in the Pioneer Village.
We peer into his rustic cabin.
We see the ladies' sunlit, quilt-covered tent.
We watch how brooms are made.
We wonder how many calicos there are in the general store.
We think about the people in the Pioneer Village.
They're friendly enough, but it's clear we're just living in their world when we're here.
We do love visiting.
We are always so glad to be a small part of it all.
We are just overgrown 4-H kids at heart.
Who really want to be cowboys.