Spurs And Scrotum Size...or...What I Did Instead Of Organizing.

I had some very difficult decisions to make this past week.

You see...I desperately wanted to finish organizing my storage room and create a sewing space.
But last week it was our spring break and the girls were home.
We did not plan a winter holiday this year and the girls have been OK with that.  Instead we planned on attending some sports during the Winter Games, and we would also go skiing for one day.  But for some strange reason, basement reorganizing was not high on their list of holiday activities?

Plus The Agronomist was scheduled to be at the local Farm Show for four days, and we knew he would miss us, so we decided to support him in the best way we could

We donned our rubber boots and set out to discover the world of farming.
It was time to make The Agronomist proud. It was time to return to The Agronomist's rural roots.
Try saying that ten times fast... we did...

And the cowboy above told us to put a craw in it or we'd be seeing the other other side of his spurs before any spring fur flew.

OK I made that up.

He was the coolest old cowboy who rode on the wagon with us and ended up jumping off mid journey to get to his truck.  We didn't even need to stop for him...  must have been all those years of being on a horse.
He made me wish I had cowboy boots with spurs.
It made me wonder if my girls would get the chores done more quickly if I wore those around the house?

The first day we toured around and got the feel of the joint.  I learned that horses are very inquisitive.  My camera must have had apple scent on it, because it was sniffed and muzzled by every equine resident   I had the pleasure of meeting at the show.  

This was George. .. not really, it just seemed an appropriate handle.  If I could have the job of my dreams it would be as a professional name chooser.  My first dog was Sweetlemon.  How great is that?  I know.  I have a talent.

One particular filly was especially fond of our youngest.  Why this was, we weren't sure?  She may have an aunty gene that was passed along, as one of my sisters spent a good part of her life in barns hanging out 24/7 with the horses.  It must be a horsey pheromone she emits.

This was Myrtle.  Except that she is a bull, so I might have to rethink that.

We learned so much about bulls at the farm show...

Did You Know...

that Myrtle here, has a scrotum-al circumference of 40 centimetres?

His fatherly duties were being scrutinized by ranchers all day long, and he was proud to announce his fertility to the world.  It has been shown and proven that "scrotum" size does in fact make a difference.  It seems that we here in the urban areas may have been misguided in these matters?

Now Ben here isn't too happy.  His pen is right beside Myrtle's and unfortunately he doesn't quite measure up...

Only 38 centimetres.  Oh the shame, the shame.  I tell you this rural world is heartless.

One of the main attractions at the Farm Show was a local dog clubs agility demonstration.  So the next day we returned.

This poor pooch, lets call her Trudy (see that, see how good I am?)  Well Trudy here wanted desperately to participate, but she wasn't a part of the "club" so she had to sit on the sidelines.

It reminded me of the movie "Mean Girls." My heart went out to her, so I took a few pictures with her owners permission, to lift her spirits.  Can't you see the smile, and the lifted self-esteem?  I think her coat became shinier too.  

We learned many things at the Farm Show:

1.  Bull pens stink, really really stink.

2.  Size does matter.

3.  Horses love our youngest.

4.  Authentic cowboys wear spurs, and jump off covered wagons. (or uncovered in this case)

5.  Dogs can smile.

6.  Watching young untrained dogs maneuver through agility courses can make you belly laugh.

7.  Older dogs can also make you laugh, but they also instilled the idea that Slow And Steady can win the race.

8.  Cameras are horse snout magnets.

9. Did I mention Bulls are stinky, really, Really stinky.

AND..

10.  Having manure on your boots is a great metaphor for life: If you have a bunch of BS stuck to you, just find a good boot rack and scrape it off.

I bet thats what the old cowboy above does...and I want to be just like him when I grow up.  

Spurs and all...just don't tell The Agronomist.

  xo

Dana