Juxtapose

Today, at the Deerfield Fair with Emvee, we were looking at all the animals. City girl that I am, I'm a sucker for the goats and the sheep, even if I could end up eating them eventually. They're all "cute" to me, I coo and pat and scratch behind ears and I just could snuggle right up to them.

Mark, however, likes to announce how smelly all the animals are whenever we go somewhere that farm animals (besides cows) are residing. When we stepped into the goat room he made this big show of coughing from the hideous stench of the goats and he was waving his hand around his face and "Gah! That smells gross!"ing a million times like a ten year old girl. I kept noting that he grew up on a dairy farm with cowsmell permanently in the air, but he vigilantly maintains that cows don't smell. So, I guess I'm smelling something down at the VDH Dairy Farm, but it isn't cows. Maybe it's my in-law family?? I don't know. Something smells, anyhow.

But all in all, I think it's really funny and cute and all that stuff that Mark doesn't think cows smell and that other animals do. It's this farmer bias, maybe, and I am marrying a country boy so it's somewhat expected, like the way half are John Deere and half are Kubota and there's no mingling of the two. Or Ford versus Chevy. Something like that. Anyways, I'm really happy about that and marrying into a funny little southern family. I've had about enough of some of the spoiled, starchy New England boys I've come into contact with, really, to last me for a while. I like good, honest, down-to-earth people very much. The VDH's are about as down-to-earth as they get, with all their quirks, and so I think it will be great to be an honorary member of the family in a few months.

My little funny moment I liked best though, was walking through some of the show calves from the farms of around the area. There were all these little farmer kids running around doing stuff and some sitting in folding chairs next to their animals, and while I never grew up around animals other than a few lizards, turtles, fish, and a cat who lived mostly outdoors, I can see the appeal of putting hard work into your animals and having the benefit of raising a really beautiful or useful animal that gives you milk, or meat, or just the fun of raising a pretty cow. I know those kids probably get up every morning early to feed and take care of their animals while most other kids are probably still pulling the covers over their sleepy eyes. It's sweet and this throwback to times past when a whole lot more people had to do a whole lot more physically demanding work just to get food on their table for their families at suppertime. It's a big responsibility and the kids take it seriously, obviously, to get as far as bringing their animals with them to the fair.

The one scene we came across was when walking through this calf barn. I was looking around at the names of the families who brought animals to show, when Mark tugged on my hand and silently pointed just a few feet away at a calf and a boy. The little cow was curled up and lying on its side in the hay, and nestled up against it was a boy, probably RayRay's age, eight or nine years old. The boy had on a little green hat, probably John Deere, a grungy tee shirt, and jeans tucked into big, clunky, unlaced boots smeared in manure. He lay with his back against the calf, his head resting on its neck between its hind legs and head, and he was just lying there, stroking this little cow's head with his hand. Emvee and I smiled. I whispered to him to take a picture, but before the camera could be gotten and turned on, the speaker announcement told all show calves to be brought to such-and-such a place. The boy was up and at it lickety-split and we missed our modern-day Norman Rockwell once again.

And just like that, it was back to work.