Milking a Cow

I have a confession to make: After my first trip to the Illinois State Fair a few weeks ago, I have decided I still prefer the Iowa State Fair.

Blame it on the fact that I attended the Iowa State Fair nearly every year I lived in Des Moines, so am more familiar with it. Or blame it on the fact My Sister and I went on a Thursday afternoon, when things were a bit quiet. Blame it on whatever you want, but I think the Iowa version still ranks above the Illinois one in my book.

Admittedly, there was one activity that earned the Illinois fair serious points, however. My Sister and I milked a cow.


It cost a dollar, but boy oh boy was it worth it. If you've never milked a cow, I suggest you try it. I only got to give the udder one good tug, but man it was thrilling when that milk came squirting out. We contemplated bribing the kids working with $5 if they'd let us really go to town on the cow. It was that fun.


(On the ride home, My Sister and I speculated as to whether we may have lived on a dairy farm in a past life. How else can you explain the connection we had with milking? It was surreal.)

I realize this may sound incredibly strange to you. That's cool. All I know is I will go back to the Illinois State Fair next year just to milk a cow again, and I will take enough cash to spend more time milking.

Unless, of course, I can convince Conservative Boy that a cow would be a worthwhile investment? It would allows us to stop the milk delivery and stop mowing. Although my weekly poop pick-ups would get a whole lot messier ... hmmm. Maybe once a year at the fair is often enough after all.

On a side note, as we were leaving the fair we realized one reason why things may have been a bit lame.

What do you think? Can we blame it on that? (And yes, I'm wearing my cow milking button in that picture.)

The Logan County Fair

Are you ready for this? To get a glimpse at the wonder that is the Logan County Fair?

I didn't think so. But I am going to share it with you anyway. There's nothing quite as American, quite as Midwestern, as a county or state fair. Fairs combine a whole lot of the excess our country is known for—I'm talking mullets, fried food, carnies, to name a few—and yet still manage to be absolutely wonderful. And because there's a good chance I'm going to miss out on state fair action this year (no Iowa State Fair? I will survive ... somehow ... and no Illinois State Fair either? sad), this ode to the Logan County Fair may have to help me power through until next summer.

But enough feeling sorry for myself. Get ready to soak up the action ...


This is the Ferris Wheel. This is the Ferris Wheel we did not ride because we did not ride any of the rides. And we managed to avoid playing any of the games on the Midway too. On a side note, I must say I was impressed with how clean-cut and tidy the carnival workers were. These are not the carnie folk I recall from the fairs of my youth. In fact, I feel kind of bad calling them carnie folk since they were wearing such nice baby blue collared shirts.


These are most delicious Culler's french fries. I had heard rave reviews about them and I must say—they are pretty yummy. Just make sure to load up on the vinegar and salt. It's required.

I also took a photo of my corn dog and lemonade shake up (yum and yum) but I was trying to take the photo while holding both in my hand at the same time, which was tricky. Conservative Boy was there but he wouldn't help because he was embarrassed by the fact that I was actually taking photos at the Logan County Fair.

Oh! And we had some wonderful homemade vanilla ice cream. But we didn't go back for a funnel cake, which I'm sad about. And there wasn't any fried cheese. I almost cried about that. There was fried mozzarella on a stick, but I'm talking about those little orange balls of fried cheese that are greasy and burn your tongue. I love them. I need them. And there weren't any anywhere. I'm tempted to make a special trip to the Illinois State Fair just to find some. The price in gas, tickets, and the fried cheese itself would almost make it worth it ...

Anyway, I digress. Now we've arrived at the evening's main event: The DEMO DERBY. I don't know why I capitalized that, except it seems like something that should be shouted. Don't believe me? Check this out:


Here is the view from our seats, after this exceptionally large woman almost sat on us because she was just sure they were her seats (they weren't). We were quite close to the action, which meant we got to breathe in plenty of fumes. But we only got splattered with a little bit of mud, which was somehow disappointing. Not sure why I was sad about that ...


This is one of my favorite cars. This is how it looked before the competition even started, mind you. What can I say? I root for the underdogs.

Also, a disclaimer: Watch out for very angry fans who don't like the refs' calls. The $1,000 prize for the winner sure gets the blood-a-boilin', and you will hear things that will make you wish you left the women and children at home. Except, come to think of it, some of the people yelling those obscenities were women and children. Ah. Welcome to L-Town. These are my people now. Or so Conservative Boy kindly informed me in the midst of the action.



Speaking of which, in the midst of the action, things can get pretty wild.


What do you expect? It's a battle 'til there's only one car left.


It gets so wild, in fact, that you might have to call in the volunteer fire fighters before the whole thing goes up in smoke.

(Don't worry, no one was injured in the making of this blog post.)