Of course, in America everything is bigger, and so it proved with our local Montgomery County Agricultural Fair. There was pig racing, there were 50+ food stands, there were horse trials, goat judging, arts and crafts, giant vegetables, a kids' zone, an entire fairground, Christian bikers...and we saw it all.
Actually we mostly saw tractors. Like any healthy boy his age, Pete was obsessed with sitting on every John Deere and Kubota he could find, especially the giant lawn mowers, which is odd given that we don't have a lawn. The highlight was a combine harvester that had been converted into a massive slide - you climbed into the cab and then slid out the back, like a newly-threshed ear of corn.
Needless to say, after so much intensive farm work Pete fell asleep and Mat and I perused the culinary delights. Unfortunately you reach an age when deep fried Twinkies aren't a treat, they're a sentence. We settled for a light snack of cinnamon sugar-roasted cashews and headed back to the safety of suburbia.
"...I shall not want..." because I have a food truck serving me pizza, nachos, and deep fried cheese.
Pony club.
They spelt our name wrong but we know we're champions.
This is the real champion.
Goat showing.
This is what they're playing for.
Pete and the pigs.
Namesake.
Mat and a rabbit.
Until Thanksgiving, that is.
Tractor.
Tiny the pig, a waif at 900lbs.
Racing pigs need Jesus too.
Where do you want these apples?
A combine.
And a lawn mower.
Instead of a sand pit they had a soy bean pit! Clever, although I was finding soy beans between Pete's toes for the rest of the day.
The vegetable grand champion, and it's easy to see why.
An unimpressed bird of prey.
Mat and Barb the Christian biker (from Canterbury, of all places - she moved here in 1966).
The good stuff.
If you don't need it before, you will after.
It's amazing who you meet at an agricultural show.
