The Big Fresno Fair

Maybe they call it the Big Fresno Fair because the ewes, bred to give birth while at the Big Fresno Fair, are heavy with their lambs, and the ones who have just given birth, are heavy--alarmingly, uncomfortably, almost comically--with milk. At the sight of one of the latter, my sister-in-law said said, "She better feed her baby soon or something bad is going to happen."

(Allow me to stray briefly from my Big theme to note that there was a lone black baby sheep amongst all the white ones, unclaimed and utterly alone, chewing on a stick. I almost broke into sobs, which is one of several hundred thousand reasons why I am thankful I was not raised on a farm.)

It's possible that the Big Fresno Fair is named in honor of the cows. Every year, in my official role as Mistress of the Obvious, I wander aimlessly around the Livestock Exhibit and say something brilliant about how big the cows are. I say, "Damn, those cows are big."

Perhaps they call it the Big Fresno Fair because when you leave, you are bigger. You are bigger because you ate several fried things. You are bigger because you bought the still-warm kettle corn in a bag almost as tall as you are. You are bigger because even though you didn't eat the fry bread, funnel cake, cinnamon rolls, fried zucchini, onion rings, caramel apple or chocolate-covered frozen banana, many other people did, and you feel big by association.

Or maybe it's called The Big Fresno Fair because calling it The Medium-Sized Fresno Fair would be just plain silly.