Yes, I do work here...

We have one fair left, then our busy season is over.

While I dream of cool days in the barn with no parents asking inane questions ("Why can't I feed the llamas rabbit food? It's the same shape!") our ponies must dream of early nights and extra cookies they only get in the barn.

Fairs are fun, don't get me wrong, but after the woman insisting that all four of her children need to go on ponies at THE SAME TIME, so we should saddle two more just for her, then having the gal to rant and rave that one of her daughter's rides "wasn't what it should have been. It was too bumpy" and claim that ALL of her children should go on again because she had appaloosas FOREVER and she KNOWS what a pony ride should be...

Oy vey. Ted tells me I could write a book of all the obnoxious things people say and do to us in the petting zoo.

How about the twenty-something woman who found me sitting atop the cow's fence holding quarters in my hand. When she asked if I was handing out quarters for the machines and I replied in the affirmative she simply held out her hand with full expectations of me giving her money.
"No... I exchange bills for quarters..."
With an abrupt, "Well that's not fair!" she turned around and stormed off.
Which part wasn't fair, exactly?

And Moe... Sweet, little, lovely bane of my existence, Moe. He's tiny. Very tiny. But he's the runt of triplets, and he's going to be tiny for the next six months. He's not sick. He's not dying. He doesn't have bloat. You can't buy him. In a year he'll be the same size as the others. His mother was a runt too. When you do buy him, and he does grow, and he gets all bucky, and he smells like a gym sock, I don't want him back.

Our llamas won't spit on you. If you scream out across the petting zoo that they will, I will ream you a new butthole. If I catch you splashing them with water at 10:30 at night TRYING to make them spit, I will ream you a new butthole and kick you out of the petting zoo, or the fair if the entrance is close enough.

Pollyanna WILL chew on your stuff. If you make a valid effort to stop her, and as a result something is ruined I have no problem replacing it. When you OFFER a straw hat to the camel, laugh as she takes it, photograph her chewing on it, then get upset when you take it from her and it's ruined, I won't. If you didn't want it ruined, you shouldn't have wasted the time taking pictures. If you didn't want it ruined, you should have taken the hat off when I told you she would chew on it.

Our donkey isn't a jackass, she's a jenny, and this is a CHILDREN'S petting zoo, so stop talking like that.

If a quarter machine is broken, why can't they tell someone? We can't fix it if we don't know. I went to fill the machines the other day, and one man came up to me and said he just put a quarter in the machine and it ate his money without giving out any food. No problem. Here's another coin, please use a different machine and I'll fix it shortly. All of a sudden I had a line of fifteen people trying to tell me they lost a quarter too! Sorry, he JUST lost his (I watched him walk over from the machine) so I can give him his money back. How am I supposed to know you did too? Or are you just lying to get a free quarter?

I love my job, don't misunderstand me. The animals are my life. The children never fail to bring a smile to my face. I love being able to explain the difference between a llama and an alpaca, and I'll do it seven hundred times a day. Having heard Ted tell the Jacob sheep story millions of times doesn't make me love the breed any less.

But when I try to politely correct a parent that just told their child our ram is a goat, I can't help but get a little peeved when the parent then responds with, "I don't care what it ACTUALLY is, I told him it was a goat, so that's what it is!"

Yeah. No. Is Fair season almost over?

All's Fair...

Fair season is different for us.

I never showed cows. I don't have fond memories of long hours practicing show circles or clipping or washing. I have memories of never-ending circles, swollen feet, and the desire for something other than fair food. I'm slightly envious of those people who think "working a fair" means sitting around staring at cow butt for three days.

We start around Wednesday if the fair starts Friday night. Earlier in the week if the fair starts Friday morning. Ted gets the tent crew together, usually Little Bobby (who isn't very little anymore) and his friends, or a couple men I know, and they spend the hot day swinging sledgehammers and pounding stakes into the ground. I show up in the evening if I can to help finish up tying tent ropes and making sure all the knots are tight.

Thursday is fence. Loading fence from on trailer to another at the farm. Hauling fence to the fairgrounds. Taking the fence off, fighting with Ted over which animals are going where, which fence is holding who, how much room to leave, where feeders will go, what we want to double-fence, and just how we think the public will move through. Fence that was light and easy to throw at 8:30 in the morning feels quite a bit heavier at 2:30 in the afternoon. We find a place to park the house trailer, try to figure out where we'll put the horse trailer, and head home praying we'll sleep well.

Friday comes earlier for me than Ted. I have a last-minute trip to the grocery store to make sure we have milk and eggs and enough food to feed the weekend crews. Cases of water. More Gatorade than the state of Florida drinks in July. Paper plates; I always need more paper plates...

It takes at least two trailer-loads, one extra girl, Ted, and me to get our animals to the fairs. Our first load contains sheep and goats, llamas, and the camel. It's a process that involves a lot of backing the trailer up into the barnyard, hoping Ted doesn't hit the barn (again), and chasing animals that would probably much rather stay home sometimes. Jimmy-Joe, ponies, and the cows make up the second trip. Sometimes the cows get loose.

Then we have to hang water buckets. Post signs. Keep the pens clean. Brush and saddle ponies. Make sure all fences are connected. Get the cash register set. Clean up. Get any kids that are working to the fair...

Then before I realize it, it's 6:00 and the work really begins...