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Bianchi -- Fond memories from family's 4-H involvement Tuesday, August 25, 2009
I've written numerous columns on 4-H, yet each time when the fairs roll around fond memories still creep into my head. They may not all be so fond, but they come anyway.
4-H and fairs were our family thing. Once our children got a taste of it there was no stopping. It all began with a phone call from the local 4-H club leader. "Would your family like to join 4-H?'' I was at a loss for words. Neither husband nor I had belonged and we didn't have a clue what was involved. I promised I'd think it over. We did and soon the fun and the driving started.
Monthly meetings, club activities and the culmination of it all -- the fairs. It I were t ask our children to name their best childhood memory, I'm sure it would be unanimous -- the fairs.
A front page photo in a local newspaper was a reminder that it was fair season and opening day was here. Ah, those days of judging. The suspense of it all. Red Ribbon? Blue Ribbon? State Fair trip? And that dreaded question, "This project is great. Did you do it yourself?'' Of course they did, with a little help from mom or dad.
As I looked at the photograph, I was sure that somewhere behind the scene was a mom or dad. They were close enough to hear the judge's comments, but not so close as to be seen. They were just as excited as their child was for a good report because they knew the time, effort and frustration put into the project. Every 4-H parent gets involved.
Maybe they just lend a helping hand here or there, but more than that, they keep their eyes and ears open for a new project.
The fair would no sooner be over and it was time to sign up for the next year. It proved to be a challenge in our household -- finding new ideas for as many as six being involved in 4-H at one time. If I remember right, some ideas were used and made the second time around by younger child.
As for family memories, no one will forget the year when we were about to leave for the fair. Our station wagon was loaded with posters, terrariums, clothing, floral arrangements, baked goods, and anything else not bolted down in our house. Then an emergency trip to the medical clinic was needed by someone who had stepped on a nail.
Doctors visits never go as fast as hoped. I returned home to pick up the exhibitors and go the fair. Even with a heavy foot, we arrived 15 minutes before judging ended. A similar scenario played out the next year. It was dress revue day. I just had to finish baling the last row of straw, although my husband urged me to "get going.''
I dropped the seamstress off at the door, parked the car, and arrived just in time to see the first group leave the stage! No wonder our children lamented about "always being late.''
Then there was our first year at the fair when each child with projects claimed a purple ribbon. We thought 4-H was going to be a piece of cake. It never happened again.
Another time Mom and Dad were asleep and were awakened at midnight by a knock on the door. A little pouting girl stood there after catching a ride home with a neighbor. She announced that "I'm never staying in those dorms or going to the fair again!''
Sleep deprivation can make for cranky kids, just as a good nights sleep in one's own bed does wonders. At her request, we took her back the next morning.
Who can forget the cattle shows, the biggest and best part of it all. We celebrated with treats for everyone in the barn when we had a grand champion animal and complained about the judge when we just knew he was unfair. We cried with a daughter whose best animal died two days before the fair and laughed when an ornery critter -- not to be led by our daughter or even a ringman. It circled the ring several times and was then led into a nearby woods. (At least we laughed when the circus was over.)
I'd have to say that one of the most exciting events for us at county fair was the night when our best animal gave birth to a heifer. The miracle of birth is an attention-getter. Most 4-H families could write a book, but no one can enjoy the memories better than your own family. |
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