Thursday, July 21, 2011

#21 He Loves Me In Spite of Me

Yesterday I made homemade mac and cheese and roasted corn salad. I've decided that after trying two or three different homemade mac and cheeses, mac and cheese was meant to be eaten from the box. It is easier and while it might contain artificial flavors and preservatives, I'm thinking it also might have less fat (considering I dump cupfuls of milk and bars of butter into my homemade mac and cheese).

But, the roasted corn salad was to die for. A lot in the prep work, but a delicious treat in the end. It is one of those foods that you can snack on at 2 in the afternoon and not feel completely guilty and then want to jump on the treadmill for hours on end, or until you crash, whichever comes first.

But today is not about my delicious food (although, it does look delicious, doesn't it?). It is about how despite experiencing my kitchen rage as he walked through the front door to a kitchen temping at around 95 degrees, a fire alarm going off as smoke from who knows where appeared, and a wife with that look of don't-you-dare-speak-to-me, my husband still chose to love me and take me somewhere I really wanted to go after the temp had gone down, the smoke had cleared, the wife was more pleasant, and the dinner had been devoured.

The Farm Fair.

My secret desire in life is to one day own a farm. Looking at me, you'd probably never know it. In fact, after my confessions about animals, you'd probably never even suspect it to be possible. But, there it is. Something about farms and farm animals is so fantastically exciting to me that I want to order a year subscription to the Progressive Farmer, browse through farm equipment, and wear plaid shirts all day long.

The farm fair recently was relocated to a mile down the road from my house, so clearly there was no excuse for me not to go.

While a lot of people from around the area come mainly to ride the colorful death traps, snack on $4 containers of fries and $15 mugs of soda, and then perhaps stroll over to look at the things that cause the fair to be labelled a "farm" fair, I head straight to those areas to walk around with my head in the clouds.

Should tractors not excite me this much?

This is going to be quite boring for those of you who could care less about farming, however, it might just be a little entertaining to follow along as I plot out my animal journey at the farm fair and discuss what aspects I want for my farm.

Chickens, first of all, are a must. In fact I am in the process of dreaming about building my very own backyard chicken coop at my present dwelling. I figure, if I can survive the chickens then I should be able to survive the farm. (A true farmer may find this to be complete nonsense).

My girl Amy sent me this link:

and it is totally everything I want. (Admit it, looking at a chicken coop like this makes you want one too!)

However, one animal I decided after the farm fair that I do not want on my farm is sheep. Nothing against the fuzzy creatures, but I'm seeking animals with true food value. Plus, shearing the sheep seems like a heck of a job.
(This fella to the left has been almost completely sheared, yet has been standing in that contraption for a long while. His neck is probably killing him right now).

These poor little guys have no idea what's coming:

Lastly, what is a good farm without some cows and pigs? I was minutes away from watching a milking contest, but the tent was hot, the farmers clearly weren't in a rush,and the cows kept relieving themselves, that it was too much to bear at 9:15 pm with sweaty people crowding all around. (I do have to say, I don't think I've ever so much enjoyed the backside of a cow as when I thought I would get to see one be milked). A pasture of cows is absolutely necessary.

And pigs. Ah, pigs. Who could ask for more?

I sure couldn't.

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