If it seems like I’ve been quiet lately, it’s because I’ve spent the last week at our county fair.
And yes, in the last 7 days I’ve went through the “7 stages of I don’t know exactly what” but if you’ve ever participated at your county fair, you know what I mean.
Anxiety over our creative arts entries.
Exhaustion of the early mornings and late nights and all the driving back and forth.
Boredom of sitting in the stands while Mollie puts in her volunteer hours and I have nothing to do.
Joy over getting to eat Backyard BBQ fajita tacos three days in a row, even if they cost $14.
Anger over the poor classification skills of the people classifying “American” breeds commercial heifers. (I think there were some registered Chi/Maine’s that showed in the Brahman influence class and I’m still mad lol).
But where I’ve landed at is gratitude.
I wrote this article during my three hour volunteer shift in the creative arts department. I typed it on my phone while I stood at a corner and directed 1000 kindergartners to “turn here” so everyone followed the traffic flow map as they looked through the over 3200 creative arts entries.
Mrs. Melinda, the creative arts superintendent, knows I can’t do this sort of stuff. But she knows Annie likes it. She’s offered about 5 times to help us next year. Show us how to garden. Teach us how to can. Share info on some summer workshops. She’s joyfully put a little sticker with the Fair’s 50th anniversary logo on every single kid who’s passed by today. She loves creative arts just as much as I love Brahman cattle. It’s her passion. She got 5 hours of sleep last night because she’s been so busy volunteering. I learned today that she won this contest in the 80s. Now she comes back and runs it.
There are three banners that are hanging on the wall in this particular building of three ladies who are now gone up to heaven but were the ladies who started and ran this contest for the last 50 years.
One of those, Pauline Kalina, was a member of the Church of Christ here in town. She’s got really big hair, big glasses, and the picture has a orangish tint to it like it’s from the 70s. It made me smile. That’s the kind of lady I want to be like.
Another picture is Grace Glaze, aka “Gran.” She ran this department for 20 years and she was my junior fair board advisor. She was tough. Nice and sweet and like her nickname implies, everyone’s grandma. But man, she ran a tight ship. She would disqualify you in a heartbeat if your chocolate chip cookie wasn’t properly plated and tagged.
My daughter is on the junior fair board now. She has a great advisor too. The kind of lady that 20 years from now, when those kids are hopefully coming back and volunteering at the fair, they’ll look back and say “Mrs. Sammie changed my life.”
I’ve been chauffeuring Mollie out here every day. We get here around 7 and every morning I say, “Do you need a jacket? It’s cool out here.” And every morning she says no.
I remember being 14 and refusing a jacket too. Then 10 minutes later, you wish you had one. Ross Kutach, a fellow junior fair board friend from East Bernard let me borrow his Florida Seminoles Starter jacket and wear it around the fair. It was the ultimate status symbol for a teenage girl in 1994. Ross’ kids show here now, too. I hope they realize how cool their dad dressed back then.
There’s a metal sign hanging above the main fair entrance that says “Donated by the 1997 Junior Fair Board.” I was on that one. I feel proud every time I drive through that gate.
This year, the junior fair board bought a new PA system for the cattle barns. A few years ago, they completely overhauled the show ring and bleachers. Those $10 raffle tickets we all buy go a long way. And the impact lasts for decades.
I ran for county fair queen back in ‘95 or ‘96. I can’t find any pictures because I don’t think anyone from my family came to watch me and I didn’t make the top 5. So, no photo evidence exists. I’m thankful for that. But I remember standing in the dressing room in that old gym with a bunch of girls trying to curl their hair in the gulf coast humidity and no air conditioning. I still can smell the thickness of the Aquanet in that tiny room.
Now, they’ve remodeled that gym and turned it into the Beer Garden. And it’s air conditioned. But it’s still pretty humid. When I walked in there this week to use the so-called air conditioned restroom, I flashed back to 1996 like it was yesterday.
Friday is “arm band day” at the carnival. For $30 bucks we get an arm band and unlimited rides. Back in my day, there was a “golden pass” that actually was a gold tinted metallic business card with your name written on it. Like 10 year olds have a photo ID or something to prove it’s theirs lol. I remember thinking that card must have cost a million bucks as I proudly flashed it to the ticket takers. Straight VIP style.
My kids will spend all day running through the pea gravel parking lot with their red-faced friends riding ride after ride until the sweat, dirt, and grime is so thick it takes 2 days to get rid of.
Someone called my daughter “Mollie Williams” instead of Mollie Cutrer. They later found me and apologized and said, they just see so much of Nana in Mollie, and, I’ll always be that little Rachel Williams in glasses showing the Brahman heifers to them, and they got mixed up. No apology needed sir. That’s the compliment of a lifetime.
Do I think the fair board needs to tighten up on what counts as “Brahman influence” breed character in the commercial heifer show? Yes. I have already volunteered to be a classifier next year. Because when you complain, you also need to offer a solution.
But, I’m a little less irritated.
Back to the creative arts room monitor job.
Every preschool and kindergartner in the county does an art project. They do it in class. They’re all the same. This year it was a Texas flag with a bluebonnet and mockingbird. Really doubling down on Texas pride. And, full disclosure; every single kid gets a blue ribbon.
As I stood on the corner, three hours in, hurting back and tired feet, I saw a young dad pick up his Kindergarden son, who had taken his blue ribbon off his portrait and was holding it.
Pretty sure that’s a rule violation but I think Gran would have let it slide.
That dad hugged and hoisted his little 30 pound son up in the air he had just won the Houston steer show. He was so excited, I mean, I was wishing Next Level Images was here to capture this winning moment.
The dad said, slowly, proudly, and with a thick Spanish accent, “Great job hijo…. I’m so proud of you!”
That son was beaming.
That dad was beaming.
They took a selfie with that blue ribbon and in that moment, that kid was on top of the world, sitting on his dad’s strong shoulders, standing by his Texas flag / bluebonnet / mockingbird painting.
My feet didn’t feel tired anymore.
I just smiled and high fived that kid as he rounded the corner and I said “this way…” for the 900th time.
Thank God for our county fairs.