Hot Time Fair in the City

Our family spent the first week of August making multiple trips to the Ohio State Fair. Along the way we picked up a number of ribbons and sweated out the armpits of a dozen shirts.

Like last year, Morgan and I snuck away to see some of the sites of the fair that weren't within the four walls of the hog barn. I used a "cartoon" feature on my camera phone to take this photo. Artsy.

As usual, Ryan was the star of the Michael family pig showing crew. He racked up quite a few ribbons over the week, including champion Landrace barrow (Landrace barrow = white castrated pig with floppy ears). Here he shows his Yorkshire gilt (white female with upright ears).

There are probably readers of this blog who would pay good money to see how I used to get in the ring and show our hogs. Fortunately, I have pumped out enough junior showmen to retire and become chief photographer and water bottle holder, however, it's all hands on deck when we have three pigs in the same class. Husband, GrandDad and my Grandpa all are helping the kids get ready in the holding pens (the pens where you go before your class enters the show ring).

Husband and I very much disagree about fair food. I, like most normal people, look forward to the opportunity to buy something on a stick for every meal. Husband fondly remembers the days when the Ohio State Fair had a Wendy's booth, which he visited at every opportunity. Blasphemy!

Our good friends at the Ohio Farm Bureau always put on a great display at the Ag and Hort Building. A few years ago we met a very self-aware cow, who I believe has since retired to a pasture of astroturf. Anyway, we always have fun there and the kids love to ride the pedal tractors.

The Ohio State Fair is over now but we are still looking forward to visiting the Indiana State Fair and our county fair. Stay tuned for more fair fun photos and possibly a look back at my time in 4-H (it was the 80s!).

Sweet Babies of Summer (and Teats)

Somewhere along the line Husband acquired a sow in his pig herd named Holly. Insert joke about me here ____.  Since almost all daughters are named after their mothers, we now have a number of Hollys running around the place eating whatever she can find, making a mess and cranking out offspring. Also, the hogs named Holly are here too.

At least the Holly pigs are of high quality. Here is one Holly who made the cut for the State Fair last year. See her official registration paper with the Yorkshire Club, officially naming her Holly 96-5.

Earlier this week, we welcomed a few more Hollys to the farm. After viewing this video, Husband dared me to title this post: Holly's big tits, however, I don't need that kind of search engine traffic.




Mother-to-mother, I applaud Holly the pig for her devotion to lactation and congratulate her on nine healthy babies.

And don't worry about me being offended by my namesakes. I enacted revenge on Husband years ago by renaming some of his pigs after the pet name I have for him. Boo the Hereford boar went on to father several state fair champions--and had his name announced at the fair each time!

Year of the Pink Boots

A few weeks ago, at that other state fair, Morgan and I snuck off and bought some beautiful pink boots. Since then, she's been anxiously waiting for another opportunity to wear them.

This weekend we headed out to the Indiana State Fair--with free tickets I won from two great Indiana farm bloggers. While Husband and the boys stuck around the hog barn to watch the show (we decided not to bring any of our own pigs this time), Morgan and I ventured out to see the sights.

We were really excited to get some free ice cream, courtesy of this giant cow. There's nothing we like better than visiting the State Fair and hanging out with fake Holsteins.

Thank goodness this giant farmer couple was available to clean up after her. You can see the wife looks a little miffed that the husband is making her sleep in the barn, but you know those dairy people, they camp out. You should see the size of the crockpot she brought for their dinner.

All in all it was a great day of pink boot compliments, fake animal posing, real animal watching and pig farmer networking. It's great that this was Year of the Pig but next year, we want a giant pink boot.

State Fair 101

I mentioned recently that we were heading out to the Ohio State Fair and many of you wished us well. This year I tried to take some photos of the work that goes into a state fair visit, because for us, there's very little eating of cotton candy (although last year we did have some fun milking a fake cow). 

When we arrive at the fair, we back the trailer into the barn to unload the pigs. This involves Husband skillfully backing the trailer and me not helping at all, unless you count when I let the truck hit a guard rail.

Husband enters the trailer and opens each pen to unload the pigs one by one directly from the trailer into their pen, which has already been bedded with wood chips (like their cousins the guinea pig).

After the pigs are unloaded we get the rest of our gear and stow in an empty pen. I am a veteran farm wife and so I know that everything needs to be about six inches from the edge of the gate in case a pig with a long nose gets put in the next pen.

After unloading, the kids and I usually need a break but Husband keeps working hard, washing each pig in a special washing pen, almost like a pig shower stall.

Once the pigs are washed, we can number them. The numbers are for easy identification during the show and sale (auction) that follow. Husband uses metal numbers on sticks dipped in paint to add the right digits. Green for the white pigs, yellow for the black ones.

During the show, Husband is intense. I learned a long time ago that show time is no time for goofing off. This year, Husband and Ryan got to show against each other. I was able to capture this touching moment!

As serious business as our trips to the state fair always are--this is Husband's equivalent of a trade show--we girls do take time to steal away for some shopping. Doesn't every farm girl need pink boots?

Farm Wife Tips: Packing for the Pig Barn

My friend and fellow blogger, SoyBoyMama, is running a weekly series of Tuesday tidbits where she shares great ideas, like a simple way to keep kids puzzles from getting mixed together. Since I'm forever stealing her memes, I have a few tips to share too. Farm wife style.

Tomorrow we are heading out to the Ohio State Fair for three days of pig showing. As a veteran fairgoer and mother, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to ensure a fun and safe trip.

First, you never know what you'll encounter at the fair. Actually, you do: dust, messy food, sweat and manure. I carefully choose the bag I bring to the fair. It needs to be able to withstand spilled water (or pig pee if you're really unlucky) and wipe down easily if it gets dirty.

I use this large bag I was fortunate enough to get for free a few years ago. It has survived several fairs and even a few nibbles from the pigs.

Inside I pack a head-to-toe replacement set of clothes for each member of the family. Trust me. When your four-year-old gets so exhausted that he pees himself in the barn, you'll be glad to have not only the underwear, but the socks. I bring a complete change of clothing for myself. Every Mom knows from experience that kids rarely get messy without sharing a little of the filth with Mom.

I pack each person's clothing in a Ziploc bag. First, it helps keep the clean clothes safe from the many perils of the pig barn. Second, in-barn clothes changes are usually happening in an emergency situation. It's great to be able to find the whole outfit quickly and easily. Third, the plastic bag can be a safe storage place for the icky dirty clothes.

Last year we ordered at set of tattoos with Husband's cell phone number on them from SafetyTat. These are a GREAT way to keep kids safe, especially at a place as big as the State Fair. We always keep an eye on the kids, but feel better knowing that if the little ones wander off, there is an easy way for the authorities to contact us. [I am not affiliated with SafetyTat. I just like their product.]

One last tip for all visitors to the fair. Unless you like the feeling of excrement between your toes--leave the flip flops at home!

Sign of the Farmpocalypse

Every issue of Sports Illustrated has a brief quote titled Sign of the Apocolypse, a humorous but true sports news item that makes you wonder--have we gone too far? In that spirit, I present another installment of Sign of the Farmpocalypse, because I just can't make this stuff up.


The Midwest Dairy Association has created a new Facebook app that allows you to create your own "Butter Cow" display, with you as the star.

Weekend Plans Cut Short

I haven't been at my current job long enough yet, apparently, because people still make the mistake of asking me what are you doing this weekend? I say that it is a mistake to ask me about my weekend plans because that question is supposed to be followed with an ordinary answer like going to see a movie or yardwork.

But when you ask me about my weekend plans, you're likely to get an answer like this: well, we'll be pretty busy getting ready for our pig auction. Husband has to give haircuts to 100+ pigs.

Yes, you read that right. Pigs get haircuts. Husband is grooming them for the pig auction (we call it a sale) that we are having on Saturday. In the market for a pig? Head over here.

Pigs have short, coarse hair that in days of old was used to make brushes (and maybe still today). Husband and other pig farmers clip the hair of the pigs shorter to make them look more appealing to potential buyers, who in this case are 4-H kids and parents looking for a hog to take to the county or state fairs.

What are the steps in cutting a pig's hair? And do you have photos? I thought you'd never ask.

The first step in any animal grooming project is corralling the animal to be groomed. In this case, Husband uses our farm trailer to transport a litter of pigs (brother and sister pigs) to the barn beauty parlor. Ryan, Justin and Morgan were along for the ride, along with nationally renowned pig clipper, Claude', whose secret identity we must preserve lest he be stolen from us by our swine grooming competiton. (Claude' is not his real name; his credentials may have been exaggerated.)

The pigs are then snared at the nose to keep them from running off and then Husband uses animal grooming clippers to clip all the hair on the pig's body. The pigs, surprisingly, are not keen to have their normal routine of pooping, chewing on the fence, eating, sleeping, and more pooping disturbed. While the haircut does not harm them, they do not like the process and tend to squeal.

Proving again that our children have very different milestones than most kids, today was a big day for Ryan as he clipped his very first pig.

Claude' was kind enough to guide him through the process while Husband entertained some potential buyers from out of state. Justin maintained a supervisory role while Morgan hid in the house to avoid the squealing.

Husband and Claude' clipped about 35 pigs this weekend, only 75 more to go! Fortunately, we have the services of Claude' all week. He and Husband will get all the pigs groomed in time for our sale, I'm sure.

Stay tuned for next weekend's adventures, which include bathing 100+ pigs (Husband and boys) clerking a pig auction with my in-laws (me), and closing down Frisch's in Eaton (all). 

And That's When the Fight Started...

Today, local radio DJs were inviting people to call in and share their stories of domestic bliss that end with the phrase, and that's when the fight started... One poor woman called in to say she was very pregnant with her daughter and she borrowed a red dress from a friend. When her husband saw her in it he yelled, Hey Kool-Aid! And that's when the fight started...

I was very tempted to call in but like so many of the stories I want to tell about my home life, my most recent and that's how the fight started story requires agricultural definitions, explanation of rural culture and possibly a quick refresher on the birds and the bees.

Let's go back to the beginning... (harp music, harp music, harp music, waaaaves)

Husband showed up to a farmer meeting a few years ago and was put in charge of procuring awards for the Champion and Reserve Champion Yorkshire gilts at the Ohio State Fair. A position, I am finding out, that has the same term of office as U.S. Supreme Court Justice--forever.

So now husband is in charge of ordering the annual awards. The first year I stayed out of it. The kids who won with their prize Yorkshire pigs got a check in the mail after the show was over.

The subsequent years I got involved and we ordered embroidered lawn chairs (they still got a check), which are a very popular way for kids to brag about their accomplishment when they bring the chair to the barn at the next show.

This year, after scoping out the award chairs kids were bringing to the shows, I got crazy and decided to order a chair with a pig embroidered on it.


Yorkshire pigs are all-white (pink) pigs that have ears that stand up. Note that other breeds of all-white pigs have floppy ears that hang down--this will be important in a second. Gilts are female pigs that have not been bred--or at least that's what is implied by their purity rings.

Let's play a game now. Pretend you are a serious pig farmer. What's wrong with this picture. (Jeopardy music, Jeopardy music)

The pig is actually white. This photo doesn't do it justice. That part I got right. One big problem is that this pig has a wee-wee underneath. He's a boy.

Also, look at those ears. THEY ARE POINTING DOWN. THE CHAIR IS RUINED. HOW COULD WE GIVE OUT THIS ATROCITY?

And that's when the fight started.

In my defense, I ordered the pig sight unseen from Friendly Suburban-Dwelling stitchery ladies who only knew that I specifically asked for a white pig that was NOT a cartoon. I figured discussions with them over the phone of Yorkshire breed characteristics and gender indicators would really be too much. It's a representation, not a photo.

I had also forgotten to have them sew Yorkshire gilt on there so what we had was a chair that said: Jr. Show Champion
[image of male pig not of the Yorkshire persuasion]
Ohio State Fair

I fell on my sword and offered my resignation as Special Assistant to the Farmer Who has to Acquire Awards for the Ohio State Fair Yorkshire Show. Fearing that he may lose a valuable contributor to many of his agricultural endeavors, he got in the car and drove the chairs back to the stitchery ladies to add the missing words.

And that's when the fight ended.

Bonding Over the Fake Cow

Once again the worlds of PR, agriculture and motherhood come together!

After I tweeted and blogged about the fake cow in the Agriculture & Horticulture building at the Ohio State Fair and all the great exhibits provied by the Oho Farm Bureau, I received this @ reply.


They had a previously unidentified photo of my kids riding pedal tractors in the Farm Bureau Booth! Kudos to Ohio Farm Bureau for using social media to sow the seeds of loyalty among its membership. What a great case study for any association.

Click on the photo.

Experiencing the Fair

I set the bar pretty high with my last Multi-Media Pig Show Report, so I decided to switch things up at bit at the Ohio State Fair. Posing as non-farm civilians, the kids and I left the barn and infiltrated many fair attractions. Husband stayed behind so as not to arouse suspicion among the other farmers that we were out actually enjoying the sights.


Nothing says Oh my God, my tits are rubber and I only produce water like the look on this fake cow's face. Ryan, Justin and Morgan couldn't get enough of this. I had to drag them away from the water-producing cow so we could move on to other attractions. It only seems fair that kids who have never seen a cow in their life should take precedent over kids who have 40 cows milking outside their back door twice a day, 365 days a year.


Thanks to a very friendly Division of Wildlife officer, Justin was able to catch this fish at the Ohio Dept of Natural Resources park inside the fairgrounds. We passed on taking the fish home with us. I'm not sure what a plastic bag filled with dead fish would be like on our third day at the fair.

We passed through the sheep barn and feeling very touristy I snapped this photo of some very interesting sheep. They all assured me that they had nothing against goats and in fact had some goat friends.

All three kids enjoyed playing putt-putt in the cattle barn surrounded by educational displays of the protein content of beef and interesting kabob recipes.

We arrived home in time to do laundry and turn around and send the boys back to the fair with their grandparents a day later to show another trailer load of pigs. I'm sure their grandfather, last-man-in-the-barn-Don, will keep them focused on the business at hand. Fortunately, there will be other relatives around who can take them to ride pedal tractors or see baby chicks or get tractor tattoos from the USDA. I just hope that poor cow and her rubber udders are ready.

Is There a Pig Farmer in the House?

pigs
Originally uploaded by Flamestitch

How often are any of us called out in public to perform our special occupational skills? Do people stop at the mall and scream out, IS THERE ANYONE HERE WHO CAN COMBINE SYNERGIES OR OPTIMIZE INDUSTRY-LEADING SOLUTIONS?

No, unless you are a physician, your day-to-day work abilities are very unlikely to be tapped in a public crisis.

So imagine my surprise this past weekend at the Ohio State Fair when the ability to rouse a lactating sow would come into play in a crowd situation.

Inside the hog barn at the State Fair is a nice air-conditioned store called the Pork Schop. Staffed by a team of dedicated volunteers, the shop sells anything and everything with pigs on it. The area features a play place for kids, and, in a separate pen, a real live sow and a litter of pigs.

Morgan and I were enjoying some down time at the kids area next to the growing crowd of non-farmers and children checking out the cute little pigs. When one piglet started squealing I didn't pay attention. There are always pigs squealing somewhere in a hog barn.

The squealing stopped and people started turning away. I heard one woman say I can't watch this. Figuring the sow was doing something gross, like peeing on unsuspecting urbanites, I kept shopping and Morgan kept playing.

Finally, someone said to one of the volunteers that a little pig was getting squashed. In moments, these women, who fortunately were retired farm wives, sprang from behind their table of figurines, opened the gate and began fearlessly smacking the 400 lb sow to make her get up.

One retired farm wife pushed and one kept smacking until they were able to pull the piglet out from under its mother. His little ears were purple from lack of blood flow but he was breathing.

The heroics of the volunteers was the talk of the Pork Schop for days. Husband said I should have jumped in to get involved but I am holding out for a crisis that meets my unique skill set.

So if anyone ever has a crisis that involves breastfeeding a baby in the hog barn while prepping the COO by phone for a media interview--then I'm your woman.

Image from Flickr.