Muttin' Bustin' For You City Folk . . . Kids Riding Sheep, That Sometimes Bust the Kids! LOL!
Kael was my first grandson to brave entering the muttin' bustin' contest, and he did a great job, just hung onto the sheep's wool, closing his eyes, and wrapping his legs around the belly of the ewe, the technical name for sheep, for those not raised in the country . . . my husband, used to get pissed at me that I didn't know the difference between hay, barley, and alfalfa! Yeah, like you know the difference between a will, a living will, powers of attorney, and durable power of attorney! I wasn't raised on a farm, so how in the hell would I know, what the difference between things, that look similar to me, are growing out in the fields! LOL! I used to love to read a book to may kids, called City Mouse and Country Mouse, cousins and what they learned by visiting each other, that was me and my husband. But it was fun as hell getting to know country music, to see that horses had their own personalities, and loved to see me gather barley out of my husband's hands, as he mowed the weeds down on our 23 acre farm, that his family had for generations, that we also loved.
In the next heat of muttin' busters, or kids, who are brave enough to get on a sheep's back and go for the ride of their lives, to that point. Tristan, a beefy kid, much of the physical build of his father, who was a Navy SEAL, until he blew his knees out two years into the program, and he got unlucky enough to get a huge sheep, that wasn't putting up with any of this stuff, letting kids, ride on his/her back! Tristan last about one second on the sheep, went straight up in the air, and landed, right on his head, with his body, straight up! He got up, dazed and confused, not knowing which way to get off the arena dirt, that he had just landed on! LOL! He staggered, walked, looked a bit confused, and finally made it over to me and his parents, where we were sitting in the stands . . . fighting back tears, Tristan said, Grandma, the dirt hit me on the head! I am sure, that as short as he sat on the sheep, and being quickly thrown upside down, and going straight down, hitting the ground, it would have seemed that the dirt hit him on the head, because the last time he had any cognition, he was going up, not down! LOL! Thaddeus was too young, but he got the jest of the event . . . a little girl, hardly as big as a button, with long hair, walked away the winner of the heat, having hung on to the sheep, being on the side of the sheep, clinging on for her life! LOL! But she made it across the arena, and cowboy dad, couldn't have been prouder!
Family Favorite & Yearly Event, The Demolition Derby!
Fun, fun, fun, for anyone who has not been to a demolition derby, is really missing out. People get these old cars, many of them back before the days of fiberglass cars, the most sturdy they could find, many had been in a derby the day before, but got knocked out early and still had life in them, even though they look like shit. But there are several cars, or more, that start the derby, and they smash, crash, thrash, and pummel, the other cars, until they are all rendered inoperable, or are out of commission, and there is one car left standing, usually, doing a victory lap, around the dirt arena, the same one they have the rodeos on, generally playing to a full house! My daughter, Greta, always wanted to be in the powder puff derby, or the girls, part of the night's events. Many of the cars, were pink, gussied up, like the gals would like them, but the drivers, tough as nails, with many of their daddies in the audience, egging their baby girls on . . . like father, like daughters. But about the time, I got out of law school, and working to have the means to have money to invest in a junker car, Greta, up and joined the Navy, before the county fair came, leaving us without the joy of seeing her compete in the derby . . . guess she wanted to compete in a bigger arena, the NAVY, and she ended up, coming out of boot camp, Navy Hall of Fame, for being in the first co-ed division of the naval graduates, with only 69 divisions to get that distinct award, out of the 9 divisions, that graduate weekly, in the 85 years of the Navy history!
Rodeos Are Always Fun . . . Even Get Exciting When a Bull Gets Loose!
I remember going to a rodeo, in it seems, Lehi, Utah, and one of the bulls got loose in the streets, making several of the cowboys, having to leave their posts watching the rodeo, and track down the bull, before it hurt someone or got hit by a car. The livestock used for the rodeos, are worth a fortune, with a bull like that, or a champion, that doesn't let too many cowboys ride them, with wild ass names, that terrorize the crowds, and leave the cowboys praying for life, clowns, watching the bulls every move, but they are bred for rodeos, and trained to buck, throw, play with the clowns, and make their owners a shit load of money, some of the bulls going upwards to a half a million dollars . . . why do you think I wanted to breed bulls, when I won my big cases, when I thought, winners got the money, not government inter pleaders, who pretended to be me, and took the money and ran! But, the bucking horses, the bulls, are amazing and shock the rodeo goers, and some are almost impossible to ride, seeing cowboy after cowboy, hitting the dirt, much in the same way my grandson did. And by the way, the World Bucking Bronce Home, is somewhere near, Ukalaka, don't know how to spell it, but out in south, eastern, Montana, some guy, just decided to breed horses, and has had some 6,000 famous bucking horses, come from his breed!
My Personal Favorites At the Fair . . . Always Go to See, The BULLS!
One year, about 10 years ago, while I was waiting to die, I broke my left leg, in about 5 places, shattering both ankles, and many of the bones in my foot, and all boxed up in a case, with crutches . . . but, that was not going to stop me from going to the county fair, to see my bulls! I asked everyone I could, to see if they didn't want to go to the fair--many people in Cache County, were raised on farms, ranches, and they were not as impressed with farm life, since they were raised that way and many went to college to get off the farm and stop having to get up early to milk the cows at 5:00 a.m., completing the duties and chores before school. I should have been born the farmer's daughter! I love that lifestyle, but I was not raised on a farm and may feel differently if I had been . . . my father was a CPA, Certified Public Accountant, and my mother was a school teacher, but we did as a family go to rodeos and county fairs, often, as I also did with my children, when they were young.
But, come hell or high water, that year, while convalescing from my broken leg, I was bound and determined that I was going to the county fair, regardless of how I had to get there! I called the bus, told them that I was on crutches, and would need help to get to the fair, with the bus making special trips to the fair, hauling patrons, and participants . . . they were more than helpful, much like Eagle Transit, who shuttles people to and from county events, and they made sure the driver knew he would have to put down the ramp and get me to the fair, and he did. Once to the fair, there were wheel chairs, that I could use, and I don't recall, having to pay for them, but that was a while ago, and each fair will differ, but I left my crutches with the place that gave them out. The next challenge was to make it around the what 168 acres of the fair grounds in a wheel chair, not ever having used one. But, I found that people, who noticed my challenge, rose to the occasion, and helped me get everywhere I need to go, even down to the bulls, which seemed to be down in the lower 40! The asphalt, was uneven and hard to navigate, but, nothing could stop this determined, bull lover, from getting to see them, like I had most years of my life . . . fun day, great people, random acts of kindness got me where I wanted to go, and I made my yearly pilgrimage to the fair!
Pickles, Pumpkins, Pies, Quilts, Even Goldfish! And Coveted Blue, Red, and White Ribbons!
I got a big kick out of the Coalville, Utah, fun parade and county fair . . . I couldn't believe what animals were entered into the fair, cats, dogs, and goldfish! LOL! It is fun to walk through all the exhibitions, checking out the rabbits, the chickens, and other farm animals and what not. The homespun, flavor of the fair, reminds you have past days gone by, remembering that grandmother, her garden, grandpa and his chickens. My second husband, and I lived up in Midway, Utah, and it took him it seemed 12 years to get a housing unit, that protected his free ranging chickens, during the day, but locked in Fort Knox at night, to save then from the dogs, the wolverines, the fox, snakes, coyotes, and other predators, that lurk and hunt during the night, and even in the day. One beautiful spring day, Jerry and I, sat out in his new chicken pen, connected to the already cool chicken coop, barn, with its nesting and moulting stalls, and while we let a dozen or so, baby chicks, replacements for the ones who had just been slaughtered and eaten in part, run round, while we were sitting out on the hay, all of the sudden, between the bails of hay, a snake came, chomped down on one of the baby chicks, peeping and crying, as the snake darted back between the hay, as Jerry grabbed a shovel and tried to hit the snake, killing it and saving the chick, but to no avail.
I used to bottle fruit and vegetables, so it is fun to go see the award winning bottling. I have even bottled and dilled pickles, that I don't think, before that, ever connected, pickles to cucumbers! LOL! A farm girl in progress . . . gardens are wonderful. My mother used to grow tomatoes every year, but not much more. When my first husband, was going to the University of Arizona for his master's degree, we lived in a little Quonset hut village, part of the universities, student housing, paid $43 per month, including electricty! But, our neighbors, next door, happened to have a garden spot between our two huts, and so we jointly grew the first garden I had ever grown . . . I loved it, just seeing the green plant shoots, come up through the black dirt, was amazing! I used to read my daughter a book, called, Frog & Toad Grow a Garden, they were so excited to see something grow, that they stayed up all night, played music, and finally gave up, and about 10 days later, the plants started to grow! Gardens are amazing things, and produce can be spotlighted at the county fairs, the best, the biggest, and the brightest! You can pick up ideas for what types of seeds, tomatoes, award winners, to grow, the next year in your own gardens! And there is a great feeling of self sufficiency growing your own food. I wanted to paint a picture of the first fruit that I bottled, I was so proud, and it was beautiful on my shelves, up in my second kitchen, at my home on Eccles Avenue, in Ogden, Utah!
County Fairs--People Connecting With People!
One of the great things, is that people get busy with their individual lives, taking kids here and their, working our jobs, going to church, being involved in politics and community, but the county fair, is a place, that in one week, many of the people throughout the community, go, and connect, either in booths, at events, or checking out the produce and animals, giving people the chance to do what many used to do over the backyard fence, just sit and chew the fat, talking shop, catching up with old friends, maybe seeing people coming back to spend time with mom and dad . . . but a great time to connect, reconnect, and get acquainted for the first time. Last year, I worked a booth, dealing with the closure of roads by the Forest Service, promoting educational information, and taking tickets for a raffle of really great prizes. The guys, or actually, the wife of one of the guys, who happened to pick me up, coming down from East Glacier, hijacked me and inducted me to work the booth with her husband and I had a ball. They loved it, her husband, and Gerry O'Neil, a state senator, representing the Flathead . . . actually, this was two falls ago, the day, I started this blog, being tracked by Indian trackers and blood hounds, an a ton of feds, stopping me from getting on the train, and I was just returning a key to Swiftcurrent Lodge where I was going to work that summer! After walking out of the Park at 4:00 a.m., to Firewater Point, some guy picked me up on his BMW motorcycle and dropped me off at A & W, Root beer, in Columbia Falls, and that is where the woman, who picked me up and hijacked me to work the fair . . . it was fun, educational, and I met people, connected with political allies, to some extent.
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