she's
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I took Dexter in for his appointment this morning. It was nowhere near as traumatic as yesterday's appointment.

There's something about the quality of sunlight in the morning, in late August, that gives me chills. It was warm enough, all right. These were "oooh, cool" chills. The sky was hopelessly blue and totally cloudless. I think it's the way the sun filters through the oak trees that gives me little bubbles of delight. The actual light is different than it is at different times of the day or year.

It has a crisp, clear trait about it. It makes you want to take off your socks and run around in the grass. It makes you take deep breaths and exhale for joy.

Too bad I normally sleep through it.

I'm a Hick

Our county fair is in full swing this week, wrapping up this weekend. Today was senior day, so at work we did a lot of transportation for our clients to and from the fair.

One of the drivers was running way behind, so I went out to help him load passengers. The handicap access was very close to the fair, so even though I didn't go inside I could smell everything. If you've never been to an honest-to-god county fair, I can tell you what it smells like.

It smells like greasy, sugar-covered goats.

It sounds like a carnival mixed with a farmyard. There are kids screaming, people yelling from the rides, cows mooing, pigs squealing, chickens clucking. There is music and laughter and talking. And if you go at the right time of day, you can hear large vehicles revving their engines.

I admit it. I'm a hick. For all the Internet savvy and medium-city attitude I put out, I'm still a hick. Why?

Because I love those two staples of county fairs: the demolition derby and the tractor pull.

For those of you who are not sure what these things are, let me give you a brief primer.

Demolition derby: Get an oval-shaped ring and surround it with bleachers. Fill the field with dirt. Place a bunch of old junk cars in the ring. Have the crowd countdown, and shout "GO!" The cars will then drive around, hitting each other. Last one still moving wins.

It's like bumper cars for big kids. There are an insane number of rules, but it basically comes down to who has the biggest, baddest junker. Massive amounts of destruction. It's really fun. Total hick sport.

Tractor pull: Get a tractor. (An ordinary, farm-type tractor.) Hot-rod it: chrome, exhaust, bigger engine. Put it on a mud track, and see how far it can pull a really, really heavy machine thingy before spinning out and coming to a stop.

I took Dave to a tractor pull last year, at a different county fair. It was just a small competition, but we were there in time to see the really strange tractors, the ones that had been totally overhauled. One of the tractors even had helicopter turbines powering it. (It didn't do that well.) Some of them look like normal tractors, some of them look like UFOs. (Check out some examples.) It's loud. It's smoky. It's muddy. It's really fun. Total hick sport.

Ok. That's my confession for today. Don't hate me because I'm hicky.