Postcard from Vermont: County Fair

(or: The first "postcard" that's actually like a postcard instead of an emotional, hand-wringy diary entry.)

Today we ventured to the local county fair "and field days" (still don't know what that means but it apparently includes a LOT of tractors, which Zoe thought were "TOO LOUD".)

Here I am, protecting her from the tractors.

Watching the draft horse pulling competition while nursing Eliza and simultaneously protecting Zoe from the tractors and the draft horses and anything else too large or too loud. I am Super Mom! All I need to do is turn my cape around....

She's very interested in horses but also TOTALLY SCARED. So we started small (and mechanized).

Then we moved on to larger but still mechanized.
("Wave at Gramma Zoe! No? Okay, I'll wave like a loon for the both of us!")


Then she was ready for the Big Time (though "Cinnamon" there was not that much taller than Zoe.)

What's a county fair without John Deere paraphernalia? (Really, Spellcheck? There's an "r" in there?!?!)

Zoe was giddy watching all the death-defying rides.

And terrified about what might happen to her on them.

Because those tiny fire-trucks could be seriously DANGEROUS.