cars, tests, and the fair

First things first! Happy Birthday, Grandma D!

Now, for the rest of the story (Who knew? I'm chaneling Paul Harvey!)

I studied for the GRE. I took the GRE. I'm pretty sure I did horribly on the GRE. I've rescheduled to take the GRE. I thought the fella proctoring the GRE was going to give me a dunce cap when I walked out the door, but luckily for him he was out that day. But never fear, I lived to test another day. grrr...

So, I have realized (actually I've known all along, but others haven't gotten the memo), that I know bumpkus about cars. I love to drive them, but a car is a car is a car. All it needs is 4 wheels and an engine that goes and I'm set. Ask me about my car and I'll say "It has 4 doors and its white" Maybe I'll remember to mention that it is a '98 and I'll have to stop and think about the make and model. 9 times out of 10 I get it right. Then I get my insurance license and I've got to know about V6 and V8 and liters and that Ford makes F150s and not Chevy. And I have to ask other non-car people these questions. Or worse, I ask car-oriented folk dumb questions, like "so, is that a car-car, an SVU or a pick-up or something else?" Grumpy old farmers love those sort of questions, let me tell you!

And in other news as of late, the Hardin Co Fair is in full swing. Cousin Jamie and her family have set up residence there for the week. Her two oldest girls have won prizes in showing some of their animals. Hope actually won the Grand Champ for rabbit meat pens! And Shelby won a trophy yesterday for her rabbits. Way to go girls!

My participation at the fair, however, is not quite so lovely. It started with Grange and ended with grease. The Hardin Co Grange has a food booth located under the grandstand, where, since time began, they have sold burgers, fries, sausages, hotdogs, beef and noodles, chili, pie and cold drinks. Ever since I was old enough to walk without holding someone's finger, I have been working at this food stand every fair that I was able to attend. I've picked up trays, wiped down tables, yelled out orders, prep buns for the grill cook, cooked noodles, and just about everything under the sun that needed to be done. Last night was no exception. I handed out hotdogs and sausages, fried french fries with partner in crime Amy H and ended up the evening grilling burgers. So, by 8:45 last night, I was red-faced, hot and greasy walking back to my car. And my mother wonders why I don't have a beau. I just need to find a fella who like a girl who smells like burgers and fries.