I’ve only had it for two months and already it is dog-eared, highlighted, underlined, almost worn out. It is my Exhibitor Handbook for the Eastern Idaho State Fair. Each year, it arrives sometime between the middle of June and early July. By early August, I have studied and consulted it, daydreamed and made decisions over it, all of which helps me answer the question, “What shall I enter in the Fair this year?” Already, as I am packing my choice exhibits my excitement is growing. My eager anticipation will culminate in exuberant delight on opening day of the Fair—just like it always has. I love the Fair.
I have always loved the Fair. My earliest memories of days and evenings spent at the Fair include eating hamburgers and cotton candy, “helping” my parents at the Chamber of Commerce booth, eating hamburgers and cotton candy, watching my uncle carry the flag during the rodeo’s Grand Entry, then cheering for him in the calf roping and cow-cutting events. Did I mention eating hamburgers and cotton candy?
I also love the Carnival. When I was small, I liked riding the ponies and the Merry-Go-Round, waving to my parents each time I went full-circle. As I got older, my cousins and friends screamed along with me on such rides as the Caterpillar, Tilt-a-Whirl, the Hammer and the Scrambler, and we giggled our way through the Fun House. My brother and I often tried our skill and luck at several of the games. Sometimes we won a gold fish, a turtle with a painted back, or a blue, green or purple-dyed duckling or chick. However, even when our prize was not as exciting, it was still valued because we had won it at the Fair. Having saved our allowances for weeks to spend at the Fair, we were always reluctant to leave until our pockets were empty—just one more ride, one more game, one more trinket to go with our fuzzy dice.
The Fair has always been a “family and friend” thing; the Fair crowd is never full of strangers. Fair time was a fun part of my growing up and quickly became part of my own family’s tradition. I, in turn, enjoyed waving at my kids as they went on the rides, sharing their fun and cotton candy. There came a time, however, when my kids had outgrown the Fair rides and the cotton candy, and I had not. That was when a friend and I decided that the Fair required two days of attendance—one with our families and one for us. It was also then that I decided to follow my mother’s lead and become an exhibitor.
The Fair is like our own Olympics. Whether we garden, bake, can (bottle), sew, raise animals, do crafts, photography, paint or draw, the call to excellence always results in beauty. I love to “ooh and ah-h” over the exhibits, always impressed and inspired by the talents of others. While I have entered and won ribbons in such diverse activities as baking, photography, and exhibiting antiques, I also plan to exhibit in still other departments someday—perhaps flowers or vegetables.
My friend and I have chosen the date for our day at the fair. We will, as we have for over twenty-five years, study every exhibit in each department, and stroll through every animal barn. We enjoy it even more as the years go by, even though we 50-something ladies now need our reading glasses to see the fine detail of the needlework. We also have enough years of kitchen experience to truly appreciate the talent and work it takes to produce the beautiful canned (bottled) fruits, pickles, preserves, and baked goods. And, we will eat Tiger’s Ears, hamburgers, and cotton candy. Like the Olympics, we will be there to applaud and cheer and be inspired, even challenged.
Perhaps I will have a sunflower that will be ready to compete this year, or maybe my roses would be ready with a little more fertilizer—if not, there’s always next year. Regardless, I’ll see you at the Fair!
