"Our state fair is a great state fair"

I saw a miniature mule dressed up like Raggedy Anne this weekend.

And I was visibly upset when she didn't take first place.

From my air-conditioned perch at my employer's booth in the Mathewson Arena, I saw many things I never dreamed possible: Shetland ponies staining to drag 400-pound loads, their muscles rippling, their knees buckling; teen farmers-to-be tossing a cow-pie discus and leaping six-foot-tall hay bales in a single bound; and, most fabulous/disturbing of all, a mini-mule fashion show featuring pint-sized beasts of burden in their Trick-or-Treat finest.

A few times I ventured out into the sweltering heat in search of "bargain" $3.50 corn dogs, and I made the rounds at the Varied Industries and Ag buildings to browse the vendors (though I did not purchase anything). I soon found myself back at my stool in the Mathewson center, saying hello to cranky, sweaty fairgoers and attempting to entice them to subscribe to the magazine.

The days were long, and although the building was air-conditioned, the crush of people kept the air sticky. When the time came to pack up, I was ready to leave, though I must say being at the fair amused me. Although I am from the Midwest and am descended from farmers, it's rare for me to see such a concentrated display of agricultural pride. The fair is full of "now that's not something you see everyday" moments. I enjoyed it. But I'm also glad I don't have to go back.

All things in moderation. I've had my fill of funnel cake for the year.