849 County Fair

Thursday, August 24, 2006

[Later edit - got some questions about a hydrax - added a link to a photo of a hydrax. They live in Africa.]

I went to the county fair today.

On the way through the village, I stopped and had a cup of tea with Piper. His Mother had been in the hospital in Florida with a heart problem, and his youngest daughter had been undergoing tests in upstate NY for an unknown problem, so I wanted to stop in and check on how they were doing. Both problems seem to have resolved ok. Oddly enough, Roman's father is also currently in the hospital, so he's going back and forth to LI, and is keeping me posted. It looks like that may be ultimately be ok, too. I guess we're all just at an age where if we still have parents, we have crises.

At the fair, I discovered I have a hidden talent. My first stop was the cow barns, and they were having a dairy cow judging in the ring. I don't know anything about the criteria, but I decided I liked this one cow the best, and she won first place. The judge, in awarding the ribbon, said she was 11 years old, old for a dairy cow, but she still looked great, very compliant, handles well, excellent this and that blah blah. Whoo.

Then I went to the sheep pens, and they were judging junior rams (born this spring). There were about 10 of them, and I picked the one with the girl in the green shirt. Then the judges picked some to line up on one side, then some more, then ... and my ram was the last one chosen for the lineup. I thought that meant he was last, but he got the blue ribbon! I chose well again.

Maybe cows and rams just come down to a beauty contest?

Those rams were youngsters, their wool had been clipped down short, they were still lightweight compared to the more mature rams, but they certainly weren't lacking where ramhood counts! They had huge bags hanging way down under them, so low, loose, and dangly it looked like it could be dangerous to attempt to jump over anything. It looked like plain walking could be awkward, especially on uneven ground. After thinking about it, I realized it was actually necessary. This way, when their wool is long and full, the factory would be below the wool and thereby left cool, which is good for fertility. Very good design. If I were building a sheep, I might not have thought of that.

I walked everywhere, watched parts of an equestrian competition and a dog trial, visited a sow with her ten new piglets, watched some guinea fowl chicks hatch, got into quite a conversation with some older men in the antique tools building about black locust wood, manure spreaders, teapots, kings, and sealing wax. There was a man about my age doing a manikin/robot bit in the horticulture building. He was about the best I've ever seen - drew quite a crowd. He made eye contact with me, and I raised an eyebrow and smiled, and he raised an eyebrow and smiled, and we had quite a flirtation going there for a bit. When I winked at him and left, he raised his hat and bowed. Flattering.

Looking at the cows, milk goats, and the mother sow got me thinking about breasts. I think it's odd the way it worked out. People, elephants, seals, monkies, and apes normally have two near the front limbs (although four is not uncommon (but the other two don't develop - why not?)). Deer, goats, and sheep (I think) have two near the hind legs. Some of my dogs and cats have had six, some eight, and good old Smokey cat had 10, and they are placed along the length of the torso, mostly toward the front. At first glance, you'd think it had something to do with the number of babies they normally have, but what about cows? They have 4 at the back (sometimes 6, but the rear-most 2 don't develop. Do they not develop naturally, or because the milking machines are set up for 4?. Why the extra ones?) The sow had 12 that were swollen with milk (for ten piglets), but she also had at least six more that weren't swollen - the last two were so far back they were actually sticking straight out behind her on her rear end. It would appear that the number of teats is rather arbitrary, and the location doesn't follow logical rules. I wonder where they are on a hippo? Or a hydrax (which is related to the elephant).

I always, always, forever and ever, get french fries with malt vinegar (must be dark malt) at the fair, just before I leave. It's the only place they taste absolutely perfect. I got in line to get them today, and then suddenly, I didn't want them. I don't know what happened. I just turned around and left. I had tasted the vinegar before I got in line, to make sure they had the right stuff, so maybe that's all I really wanted - a taste of the vinegar.

I bought a dress - an Indian cotton shift. (Daughter - this is about the eye color, which we already talked about, so you can skip these two paragraphs.) All my life people have been telling me my eyes are gray. (My mother, in her typically disparaging way, called them mud gray.) When I look in the mirror, I see light green. Obie had told me they were green. But I've been obedient and compliant and always wrote "gray" on forms and applications. I always tell friends, "If you love me, you'll tell me my eyes are green", and they usually comply - with a snicker. I look in the mirror and wonder. The mirror must lie. I never knew what color my eyes really were, what other people see. (Roman, BTW, has kaleidoscope eyes - brown, hazel, green, gray, and blue in sparks and slivers.)

So, I had picked up a light sage dress. If you've seen Indian cotton dresses, you've seen the color. Pale green with a silvery cast. I was holding it in front of me at the mirror when a woman behind me (another shopper) said "Oh, my God! That dress matches your eyes perfectly!" Her friend said "Let's see", so I took my glasses off and turned around, and she said "Oh, yes! You couldn't find a better match!" Some other women agreed. I held the dress away from me and looked at it, and yes, although there's a silvery cast, it's definitely in the green group. Not gray. Green. Silvery green, but green. I held it close to my face and looked in the mirror, and yes, that's the color I've always seen. My eyes are sage.

Here I am, almost 62 years old, and I finally find out that my eyes are sage.

Too bad that's not a choice on forms.