(Reprinted from the Sept. 21, 2001 Suburban News)

Yep! It’s time to get into my bib overhauls, grab my flannel shirt and head for a local fair.

First, I always have to visit the exhibition building to look at Grange and Scout exhibits, then pictures, sewing and prize vegetables.

Then my wife drags me to the 4-H and the Girl Scout displays; and on to the animal barns. We stop to watch someone shearing a lamb and I always think how my Bearded Collie, Jennie, would love to boss that one around. Next, it’s to look over the cattle, rabbits and poultry. There sure are some queer looking rabbits.

I want to go to the horse and oxen pulling, but my wife drags me off to the hall with all the old farm equipment displayed. To me that area is just full of the same junk I’ve got at home, only mine isn’t as rusty.

As I pull her back toward the pulling barn, we stop to look over the working horses and the oxen. There are always some big Canadian oxen teams with downright beautiful harnesses.

Oh! We go right past the pulling ring, past all those food booths and political booths until my wife has me at the doughboy cart. We order the fried dough and look around, very guilty, to see if my doctor is at the fair watching. Of course he isn’t! I wouldn’t take my wife where there was deep fat fried dough, potatoes, or homemade doughnuts on the doctor’s day off.

With my doughboy and a cup of coffee, I finally get to watch the horse pulling. To watch a good teamster who gently talks his team into doing its best is what I like. I don’t want to see a teamster who beats them into pulling. A good team pulls because it wants to please.

I enjoy our country fairs with my wife. The trip has been always the same for the fifty-six years I’ve gone to them with her.