Portland is only about 45 minutes north of Salem, which is the capital city of Oregon. Yesterday we all drove down to see the State Fair. Since the weather has finally gotten a little cooler, it was a pleasant day.
First, of course, was the animals. The FFA and other livestock barns are the heart and soul of any state fair. We enjoyed seeing the sheep and goats get all spruced up, then dressed in little robes to keep them clean while they waited their turn to be shown.
Next door was the poultry, where Auntie Bridgett spent some time talking to the ducks and chickens. They actually seemed to be listening for a while, but were confused by her accent. She speaks California poultry, I guess.
The barns are not just big, they are historic. The poultry barn was build in 1921, the year my Momma was born, and the horse barn in 1919. Included in the poultry were pheasants, which I always think of as wild birds, but these seemed comfortable being in a pen and being admired by hundreds of strangers.
In the historic wooden horse arena we saw the “Showmanship” judging. This involved a few dozen horses standing, stopping, walking, and backing up. I admired the construction of the arena as well, all wooden trusses and bracing, and wondered how it would have sounded in 1919, when it was jam-packed with local horsemen showing off their prize animals. I confess, horse shows make me miss my dad, your great grandpa Lowell. At every fair I ever went to, he greeted every horse like an old friend.
Walking out of the cool barn we found the beginnings of the dog judging. One handsome fellow was being the practice dog, to make sure the timing mechanisms were working. He was having so much fun, he kept running through his paces backward and forward, having a ball!
By then, it was time to eat, so we went in search of healthy food! Just kidding. I had a baked potato with everything, Auntie Bridgett had a pulled pork sandwich, and Grandpa Nelson had a three course meal: Karmelkorn, a milk shake, and giant pretzel.