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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Iowa should have two state fairs a year; one is simply not enough. I am running past the freak shows, and the spin art now. Lots of screams from the sky glider; I threw up on that last year. I can smell the corndogs, bacon, and hear the pancakes sizzle. I have to get down to the 4-H barns to see my sister’s calf. She will not forgive me if I do not get their fast. I promised her. Uh-oh. Livestock can wait. Carnies have enticed me to try my hand. I am quite the sharpshooter; this should be easy. But it is not. I get a pathetic prize no one would want – a finger puller. Wow! These girls are beautiful. Going to enter Fair Queen pageant. More screams as I get closer to the Midway. Shrieks of happiness. There are long lines to most of these rides. I am not tempted yet. The older teens wait until around eight o’clock after the little ones go home. Hey! Are those skee ball games? I have to try my hand at these for a second. These vendors have my number. I see a fortune teller next. She is old. I mean older than my grandmother. Nothing she says makes sense to me. When I get to the 4-H barn my sister is excited. She has seen the prize winning boar. Who cares about boars? I ask her. This one is fantastic! She argues. I take her to see the six foot by six foot butter cow and pink cotton candy. I whisk her past the other 4-H exhibits, and we head for the Midway.
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