I went to the animal fair... the birds and the beasts were there...

Finally, I can write. I'm going to separate these into different posts, instead of one long one, because I find it easier to read that way.

Starting with Friday...

After I checked my Daphnia experiment in lab I met Shrewd at my dorm, and we got directions and headed to the Deerfield Fair. The Deerfield Fair is held every year, never really changes, and is a lot of fun. Shrewd and I always like to go.



We were planning on meeting Mummy and Daddy there, but the cell phone reception was bad (isn't it always?) so we wandered around a bit. First stop was the sheep barn:



Which is one of Shrewd's favorite places. Then there was the goats...



And the pigs. We caught a bit of the pig show:



And then met up with Mummy and Daddy at last, as there was reception by the swine barn. Also by the swine barn? A sausage stand. Sketchy.

We moved on the poultry barn. There were ducks that looked like Arthur from Sheldon,



and drag queen chickens. Fabulous.



We got soup in a bread bowl for lunch, then the next stop was the draft horse heavy pulling show. Basically we watched giant horses, over seven feet tall, drag 3000+ lbs across the ring. Each team had to be backed up carefully towards the weight (which was put in place by tractor). This was sometimes a bit challenging, as the draft horses were all too eager to go. The first team was called Redneck Express, which amused me.



After watching that we swung over to where the Teamsters (4-H types) were competing with their oxen. The first kid looked about 8 and his oxen responded to him like puppies. Adorable. But not very obedient. The second kid had a little better luck with his.



The oxen were so sweet, but very big, and there were two cute little kids (can't take pictures of kids not your own, that makes you a predator, or I would have gotten one of these guys) playing on the fence and, for a little while, IN the oxen ring. One of the mommies caught this and freaked out, racing over to rescue the little kid.

One of the competitors was the regional champion oxen-raiser. These are hers. She's adult-sized, compare to the little ones before.



Then the draft horse barns! Ah, horsies...



And oxen, which I actually had to look on Wikipedia to figure out that pulling oxen are basically just steers. I always figured it was like the difference between a dairy cow and a beef cow but turns out that a neutered male dairy cow is an ox. Actually all cows/domesticated cattle are oxen, but these guys are the only ones we call such. I'd show you a picture from that barn but the only one I have has family members in it.

But here, have a dairy cow. That was our next stop:



And we saw them get milked:



By this time it was getting late. We went and got a Blooming Onion to share, then looked at the shops on the fairway, including a cowboy hat shop where Shrewd got a cool fancy hat, and then got fried dough, fudge, and decided to leave.



That was fun. Then we went to the Olive Garden all the way in Manchester, and I wound up getting back to campus really late. But it was okay, in the end.

"Is the Space Pope reptilian?"

Today I dragged Ryter up to Concord to see the planetarium. The show was kind of lame, which was a bummer because sometimes the shows there are pretty good, but this one seemed to be designed for people who knew absolutely nothing about outer space. It's especially bummerful because I had kind of been hoping to prove to Ryter that there are some fun things to do in this state. He has this idea that we have to go to Boston to do anything outside of his apartment besides go to a mall. And yes, most of the attractions in New Hampshire seem kitchsy to a kid who once lived in New York, but I love this state and I've been finding stuff to do in it for nineteen years. I wish I could find a way to show him that New Hampshire's more than just the state with the most legal ways to get yourself killed.

Anyway, any hope I had to convince him that we're not a bunch of rednecks and Massachusetts transplants was kind of dashed by the drive up there and back, during which we saw:

1. A church mounted on cement blocks
2. Kids kicking a soccer ball at a 10-ft-high wooden cross in someone's yard
3. A daycare called "Precious Angels"
4. 10 antique stores
5. 20 crafts stores, most of which were all in a row
6. A place to buy large wooden moose cutouts for your yard
7. A guy wearing his shirt around his head instead of on his back, army fatigues and workman's boots, sitting in a Jeep with no doors, with himself and his Jeep completely coated in mud as if he'd been splashing around in it for hours
8. A guy with a beer belly in a wife beater and Birkenstocks, duct taping a TV antenna to his chimney
9. Giant bales of hay with white tarps over them, which I at first glance assumed were giant marshmallows
10. And the piece de resistance-- a guy flying the Confederate Flag beneath the American one. Yes. The Confederate flag. In New Hampshire. Less than 100 miles from Canada. In the second most Yankee state in the Union, after Maine.

After all, as Ryter says, the unofficial state motto is: "New Hampshire: At least it's not Maine."

After the show we went to a mini-golf course that would have been much more fun if it hadn't been in the 90's and very sunny, and if we hadn't been hungry and the restaurant out of most food, and if Ryter hadn't been worried about his lizard getting overheated with the lights on and all. Plus Ryter was already kind of irritated about the show not being very good.

Best part of the show, in my opinion, was the guy behind us who, when the presenter asked if we had any questions, said, "Yeah, where's Heaven?"

I know that New Hampshire's not exactly fast-paced and exciting, but there's a lot of great things about it. I mean, the White Mountains are awesome and there's tons to look at, like American Stonehenge and Flume Gorge, and it's beautiful in fall. I guess it helps that I grew up here, and I don't expect excitement to jump out from behind our lovely fall foliage. I like apple picking and meandering down the Appalachian trail and going swimming in a snow-fed river that's so cold you turn pink. I like historical reenactment villages and Canobie Lake, the one amusement park that's nothing compared to a Six Flags. I like the outlet stores in North Conway and walking on rocky beaches and peering at tidepools at Odiorne Point, holding starfish in my hands. I like the Deerfield Fair, where you can stare at giant horse butts and watch people train oxen, and eat various fried foods that are probably toxic. I love the Highland Games, the one place where you can see some of the world's strongest men wear kilts and throw tree trunks, and buy tie-dye kilts and listen to bagpipes echoing softly through the mountains. Hell, I've been to Maine, and I like it there, too.

It makes me sad when people from out-of-state, from cities, look at New Hampshire and see rednecks, transplants and Thoreauian poets. The most that they can say for this place is that there's some pretty scenery, fireworks and guns are legal (though not smoking in bars anymore-- we have a Democratic state government now), and there's no sales tax. And it's not