Working hard works, well, until it doesn’t. And it doesn’t always work when my girls enter the show ring for the market judging class during the county fair.

A few years ago, during an August hot enough to fry pancakes on sidewalks, I was home while my hubby handled 4-H at the fair with the kids. He oversaw some 4-H activities at the time, so he stayed at the fairgrounds while I trucked an hour one way back home to take care of chores on our little ranch.

I try to do my best to warn people about the realities of country living versus the little-red-barn, paint-by-number version. For some reason, I feel a particular responsibility to be the warning angel of the 4-H sector. Take, for example, steers.

There’s nothing quite like the county fair. It’s one of those places where your senses come alive with the sights, sounds and smells that will develop into a lifetime of memories.