Clearly, Clearly I've Changed

Clearly Dear Reader, you are not confident that I would not give you things like lamb tails. But really I would only do that if you were that type of person. Oh, oh, I feel a story brewing up....

After reading her posts about her sisters' visit and the pranking that went on, this one is inspired by Kathy at Spot on Cedar Pond, now and also when the story first unfolded. And if I were still the same woman I was in this story, yes, I could understand your reluctance Dear Reader, to take me up on my offer of a prize. But honest, I've been rehabilitated, it was the shock therapy, I am no longer the same pppperson.

Kathy and I used to be in 4-H, as leaders, project leaders, superintendents of barns, moms. This meant that we were at the county fair and sleepless for days. Now I am not blaming the sleeplessness for my actions mind you, I'm just saying when you leave Lanny up all night you have to expect that many more hours of shenanigans.

Kathy superintended the Poultry Barn, I can't remember which job I was on at the time, but Terry, my partner at the Sheet Diet, was helping in the Cat Barn, yes, you heard correctly there is a Cat Barn at the County Fair. I had swung by and was hanging out with Kathy while she locked up her barn one night during the fair.

She always had terrific educational and inspirational displays up at her barn, one of them was a brooder of just hatched out chicks.

Time out here in the story for a little lecture: Next time you are visiting a fair, primarily run by volunteers, and you come across a brooder of hatching and just hatched chicks, remember that the volunteer had to time it just right, tend a incubator at their home for the better part of a month just so that you could have the delight of seeing baby chicks hatching and running around in a brooder.

Kathy did that every year along with collecting entries, dealing with the paid staff of 4-H and the fair, making other educational displays, grooming some of her own birds for said displays, talking her husband into building things for or fixing a building that they did not own and the fair/park service didn't care to help with. Dealing with kids, (usually fun) and their parents (not usually fun), making sure that the judge she hired earlier in the year showed up, setting up for the show, keeping kids on task while their do birdsmanship..... Okay I'm done with my lecture lets get on with the story.

She was tiding up her barn and had just collected up a chick that didn't make it in the brooder box. "Ahh, too sad. Okay, what garbage can is safe to chuck it into?


Then the wheels began to turn, with Kathy's help I am sure, I'm positive she had the first thought of it. You know she really deserves the credit here.

Terry was in charge of putting up prizes on this big board displayed down in the Cat Barn. The prizes were for the kids who did herdsmanship, they were allowed to pick a prize when they were done. Many of the prizes were different cat toys that "Fluffy" might like for his/her owner to pick.

Terry had told me just that day that she had to arrive early in the morning every morning of the fair, open up the Cat Barn and put the new prizes for the day up on the board before the kids arrived for the day with their kitties. She had to get there early so she could finish before they began to hover around her, because they wanted to know right away what they were working for and she doesn't do hover. So I knew that she would arrive before anyone else. I was confident.

So Kathy locked up the Poultry Barn, while I held little flat chicky in my devious paw. We walked down to my trailer and grabbed a zip lock bag for chicky, just like the bags that all the other "cat toys" were placed in. We sat around and waited to make sure that everyone was gone from the cat barn. The Cat Barn superintendents don't have animals to deal with at night like up in the livestock barns, all the cats and children leave the cat barn at nine at night, so when they were gone, they were gone.

Well the time had come, all was quiet in the cat barn, the adjoining rabbit barn and there were just a few non-curious stragglers in the Fair Office through which we gained access into the Cat Barn with the deception of "I have a note I need to hang on Terry's board so that she will see first thing in the morning."

"Oh Terry, I cannot wait, I wish I was this little leftover plastic mouse so I could see your face in the morning." I pinned that dead little chick now a "cat toy bar none" right smack in the center of the award board. Kathy and I giggled a little as we envisioned the shock on Terry's face and all that she would say as she took the dead chick down. Ooops, did I say dead, that was rather calloused wasn't it, "the deceased chick" is what I should have said.

The next morning I was busy at work setting up the arena for what ever small livestock was showing that day when I got called to the Office.

There stood a very stern looking Cooperative Extension 4-H Program Assistant. Okay, truth be told I still had no idea that I was really in trouble because she always looked stern especially at me because I was constantly causing trouble, mostly in the form of "why can't we accomplish this or that, it really can't be that hard can it?" I was one of those thorns that "they" alternately wished they could get rid of and then had to give awards to for all I got done. Burn out comes quick and hard to us types by the way if we are not well fed and cared for. Any who, I really couldn't think of what I had done now so I stood dumbfounded in front of her.

"LeeAnn, did you do something in the Cat Barn last night?"

"Uh, maybe." I sorta 'fess with a smirk building in my countenance.

"Well we have some crying sobbing children in the barn now this morning. They were quite shocked."

I immediately felt bad. That was not my intent. Yes, I think it is grandly silly that we have a Cat project and a Cat Barn, but my own kids had at times shown cats, well mostly just Michelle (it explains a lot), but really I don't not like the Cat Kids, its not their fault that they don't get to show real animal. I wouldn't want to make them cry. I figured that they couldn't handle dead stuff, it really wasn't my intent for them to find it.

But then I wasn't sure, was that a tale tell smirk on Nancy's face, where, by the way, was Kathy?

"But what happened to Terry?" I blurted out. "Terry was supposed to find it. Not the girls."

"Terry was late this morning. So the kids found it themselves." Man if this is a double back trick on me she is good at keeping a straight face, but I am positive that I can see a little smirk, but maybe I just want to see one.

Do you know how hard it is to apologize seriously and not laugh at the same time. Come on. Really how bad could a flat chick be to see in a bag. It wasn't bloody. But on the other hand I know that my kids are unusual and mercenary and yeah I get it, I'm sure some of them will be scared for the rest of their lives and I am sure that their parents will indulge the "horror" of it all. All I can say in my defense was that I had no intention of the children seeing the flat dead chick in a bag. But I guess it is people like me that give people like Bee phobias for the rest of their lives (see her comment about birds on my post One Of My Favorites Return ) . I oughta get a kick back from all the therapists in the area I tell ya.

So I promised never to pull a stunt like that again and I left the Office a whipped pup with my tail tucked between my legs thinking I will never get this whole adult business down but secretly wondering if Terry and Kathy were hiding somewhere having a giggle of their own.

"Lanny, have you reformed?" you ask quizzically Dear Reader. I understand your reluctance in believing that I have. But let me reassure you beyond a shadow of doubt that I have reformed. To the core. I am no longer the same woman. Yes, I am reformed, I no longer volunteer.

We Won, We Won

Hey I hate to brag, really I do, but when you get as little opportunity as myself, you seize every bragging moment possible and because the only other person that reads this blog that I was competing against also won, I can jump up and down here and say "I won, I won, no wait, we won, we won." and not be offensively in any one's face.

What did you win Lanny?

So glad you asked.

We, the girls and I, won the herdsmanship award at the Animals of the World barn for creativity in our display.

What did the other person win?

Oh, the other person, Kathy, won the herdsman ship award for cleanliness which she really is. Three other people won also one for public interaction, one for education, and one for over all.

Bet worked hard making our concept become a reality.

Along with these beautiful fall swags, she made a feather garland out of the turkey's under feathers that are as soft as marabou.

It takes a lot of stuff to keep turkeys in and make the place look good.

We had a great idea of putting some of my evergreen trees on the inside of the turkey pen. I knew that any flowers or tender broad leafs would be pecked to death but who knew the turkeys would peck on the conifers.

Once the red posts were up and strapped to each corner and one on each side, Bet got to work on the netting. It keeps the turkeys in because, yes, Virginia they have wings and they fly.

With the netting up, the conifers and the cattail bucket in the pens, it was time to put the big birds in. Speaking of Big Bird, his feathers are all white turkey feathers dyed bright yellow.

Here they are, well at least the first three any way.

The final touches went up and I came up with an incredibly funny, funny poster. The theme of the Puyallup Fair was "Epic Fun." The fair appreciates when we do things to express the theme. I racked my brain for some American Epics (turkeys are original from the Americas).

Well for some reason my brain was stuck on The Last of the Mohican's, but when I finnaly remembered the author that clinched it. My poster is like a advertisement for a new book. It shows a book titled The Last of the Moturkeys, by James Feathermore Cooper. Ha Ha Ha it couldn't get any funnier than that (with the theme and the turkeys what do you expect?)

But then when visitor after visitor had to be told, "No, they aren't moturkeys. It was a play on words." Some got it, some didn't, oh well.

Our front table looked nice, Rebecca wrapped it up very nicely in our gold material and Bet's swags. It was a nice place to sit and greet fair goers. It was however the scene of the unpleasantness I wrote of in Come On, You Didn't Just Say That! but that was only a moment in time and we quickly recovered. It is hard sometimes dealing with the public, it is nearly impossible to just walk away. If my Christianity allowed me to be rude, the fair would certainly frown on it

The turkeys seemed to have enjoyed the fair, I think the cattails and the trees helped, and Bet played a radio in their barn for about two weeks before the fair. The were certainly ready for the chaos and noise of the fair, they listened to Rush Limbaugh, so nothing excited them after that.

So that was the fair. All five days of it, from about seven o'clock to ten p.m. and eleven p.m. on the weekends. I'm glad to be home but I already have plans for next year's design and Drew, the barn manager, is having us bring our Valley Quail next year and hopefully we will have our Large Black Pigs. I'm excited for next year!

Come On, You Didn't Just Say That!

So here I was at the fair the last day. Having a great time, laughing. Talking with some people Rebecca and I know. Enjoying my new found political agreement with my good friend (she's been a Republican all her life and I'm a Democrat for McCain). We were not talking loudly but then again we weren't whispering. Someone in our group mentioned Palin's name.

This older, seemingly educated, fellow was standing at my table and he interrupted us with this:

"So, how do you like her gratuitous photos with her trophy disabled child?"

I flashed a fantasy in my mind where I grabbed hold of the guy's head and slammed it several times into the table. But I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Instead, after asking him if it would be alright if the child were "normal," and another tap on the shoulder, I calmed down and asked if he had any questions about my turkeys.

But I was done when he admitted that he voted for the initiative to ban hunting cougars with dogs and trapping coyotes, but now he thinks it might have been a bad thing because the population is clearly out of control, he saw a lot up hiking.

Yeah, fella, try farming with them.

My turkeys just got really expensive for you.

The Girls Will Never Be The Same

You may or may not recognize the two in the middle.

They were finalists on a show called, So You Think You Can Dance.

The girl is Courtney and the young man, Thane.

The girls saw them walking through the barn

Thursday night or maybe Wednesday night I can't remember.

They stoppped them and talked to them, a lot.

Courtney talked to the girls and then myself

as if she had know us most her life.

Then later on I spotted more dancers,

Carrington, Gev and the winner, Josh.

Rebecca grabbed her camera and took this shot

but put her camera down not realizing that

Elisabet was going to hug the dancers so she only caught

Anna in the act.

And as she continued to chat

with the delightful Josh.

Too stinking exciting!

We're Home, I'm Glad, But Cranky

I'm home and I'm glad.




I'm glad to be back in the company of Dirt, glad for being surrounded with familiarity. A change freak, party girl, recognizes that she needs, needs, familiarity and quiet.


If you desire to see the cute and fuzzy side of the fair check out Kathy's Spot on Cedar Pond, she has lots of great pictures, they are very nice and show why we go to the fair. I however am a Grinch and need to unload some nonsense here, I just gotta get it off my chest.

It's funny I didn't even care about the serious minded silly questions such as: Do turkeys lay eggs? Do you need a female to have young? Okay the guy who had these questions was well dressed and well groomed but clearly had a common sense disconnect, he had similar off the wall questions for the dwarf goat people. (take that D.M. fans)

Or the fellow who insisted that turkeys really must be holding their breath after asking if turkeys held their breath to turn purple and puff up. It was explained to him that it was a blood flow thing based on hormones, only toms do this not the hens. But no, he couldn't believe it because his face doesn't turn blue. Well there ya go, clearly the turkey is holding his breath for ten plus minutes, they should have been turtles. But really these questions are silly and embarrassing to answer in mixed company but they are fuel for jokes and some what understandable. But definitely not irritating.

What got to me?



It was the constant, and I mean constant, barrage of comments about how the current visitor does not eat meat.

Or meat that resembles what it came from.

Or they can't know that their meat came from a live animal.




Ohh. Please. Stop.


I would rather have a zillion awkward conversations about the breeding practices of our toms than deal with folks coming in the barn and hating meat eaters, honest meat eaters.


More than one series of questions went down in this manner:

"uh, why do you have these, uh, turkeys?"


"Well we raise them to produce meat."


"Ohh! You kill them, that's horrible." followed quickly by "Why would you kill your pet?"


"Because they are not pets. The reason we raise them is strictly to eat them, feathers and seeing them in our pasture is secondary." We would answer in varying fashion.


"That is awful"


Now here is where we split in one of two directions.


The first is to continue to berate me for feeding my hateful self on meat.


The other is to say that I am a cruel and nearly wicked person for actually knowing the live animal from which my meat came.


The first direction I can live with. It is at least consistent but then I was wondering what they were doing in a barn filled with animals that exist mainly for that purpose. Please, hang out at the zoo, they have zebras and all sorts of violent green information. Most zoos even have a "farm" which is inhabited by "rescued" farm animals that should have been culled (read "eaten").

It is the second group, the "I can't believe you eat an animal that you knew". "I can't believe that you just don't get your meat from an unidentifiable package like me."


These are the ones that make me wish to scream.


Or people who are coming through with an ice cream decrying our eating of meat. Not, of course, willing to accept the fact that in order to get their ice cream the cow must be bred. Which produces a calf that isn't always a heifer destined to produce milk. What do they think farmers do with the calves that are born in order to make their ice cream, milk or cheese? But maybe those ice cream lickers eat beef but just have issues with turkey meat.


I was applauded because we free range our turkeys. My applauder, she told me, had been in the cow barn, just minutes prior, weeping for the cows that were tied to a stall area.


I get it. I raise animals in a more sustainable, open range manner. I don't care to eat meat pumped full of questionable stuff so I would prefer not to sell it to someone else. But trust me our animals primarily free range because its the way we farm and it shows up in the flavor and the decrease in expense. As does every single other animal at the fair.

Look, no so called factory farmer would be at the fair. They have to, have to, practice bio-security and the people going through the fair would spread far more disease to them than the modern over sterilized child could get from them. Farmers who confinement farm, either poultry or swine or bovines, do not, cannot risk bringing their animal to the fair. The animal they would bring would not last in the barn for five days and would take back germs and bugs that would decimate the rest of the farm. And while free ranging decreases my expenses it would greatly increase a large farmer's especially in certain livestock and poultry.

But we, the consumer, have created the need for the "factory farmer" that we now insist must stop and convert. The entire country over consumes, some actually eat to much, some are amazingly wasteful. Dirt and I had an opportunity to take in one each of a professional basketball, baseball, football game. We were astounded by the waste at the events. Families with children would order a full meal and huge drinks for each member and leave enough to feed a family that size again twice over.

We, our society, pretty much across the board, use food as a source of entertainment and example of wealth. Food always has been a sign of wealth only now the moderately wealthy desire more to display a level of wealth they don't have than to live moderately. And it doesn't even need to be a public display because mostly it is ourselves that we have to convince the most.


This is a train wreck that has been coming for a long time and no one really is addressing the issues correctly. High school teachers who really don't understand the issue show films designed to incite enraged reactions instead of well thought out solutions. Animals are imbued with human level of importance in classrooms and now an entire network is devoted to the insane elevation of animals, fueled by the misunderstanding of what is the problem with today's agricultural problems and the solutions. Diet for a Small Planet fans think that cows are stealing food from the mouths of starving children. It is warring neighbors who keep the food from the mouths of the world's helpless and defenseless. Grazing animals eat food products that people cannot obtain sustainable nutrition from. And this misunderstanding is reflected in the nonsensical behavior of the common fairgoer, but entirely impossible to be addressed by the common fair exhibitor in the five second exchange between the two.



So I am glad for the more frequent fair goer that expresses the desire to pop one of the lovely birds in the oven, minus the feathers, and set in on the dinner table. And enjoy.



The children who gobbled at my laid back turkeys.



And a bunch more, that I'll post tomorrow, that made the fair all worth it. I love going to the fair. I just wish America wasn't so mislead and mis-educated.