Thrilled

I'm  always amazed when I encounter the attitude of "Nothing I do really makes a difference".  I think each time you express that attitude by not voting, by not volunteering, or by not caring, you sell yourself and everyone around you short.  I know it is easier not to care, and certainly less frustrating.  And, of course, no one likes to be reminded that apathy and indifference are not just unattractive qualities, but actually unChristian, and I suspect unJewish and unIslamic too.  

As you should all know by now, I support teacher friends who post projects on Donor's Choose.  Our last project to try and get funded was for Shannon Sansom, an elementary school librarian in a central Texas rural district.  She posted a project to buy library books with which to challenge her children to read more.  We managed to help her raise $1018.00.  That's a lot for a project, and we were all thrilled when her project funded.  Many of my friends and readers helped her.   

Shannon sent this today to all her donors:

"Thank you so much for the donation of fiction books for our library.  The books are processed, on the "New Book" shelf, and are already in  demand by our readers! We are a charter school, and the library budget would not allow for us to have these great new books if it weren't for  donors like you. Our "Reading Bingo" program is underway, with nearly  half of the student population signed up with the goal of reading 100  books by the end of the school year. To date, nearly 30 students have gone to the second level, and 4 have reached the third level! They are excited and proud when they turn in their Reading Bingo cards and  receive the next level card. Nothing can get a child more excited about  reading than to provide them with new books on topics they enjoy. And  of course, nothing helps a student's reading skills more than reading!  Pleasure reading will help boost students reading skills in every aspect  of their learning. Thank you again for providing my students with such  great books. With gratitude, Mrs. Sansom" She also posted some pictures - this one was my favorite

   
If you were one of the people who accepted the challenge to 'make a difference', then just look at those faces.  If you were one of the people who 'passed', then look at the faces.  

There will be another project.  Be someone who thinks their actions make a difference.  I know mine do; proof is in the picture.  

The Leaves of Virginia

Since we arrived, we've been very curious about what autumn was going to be like in central Virginia.  I knew there were lots of deciduous trees in the area because I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma which is a city of trees.  I can pick out most of the standard trees, and I know which ones usually have colorful leaves.  It seemed to take forever for fall to arrive since we had a very late Indian summer week which delayed the leaves turning.  We took off for Shenandoah National Park the last week of October when the leaves around our apartment were just starting to turn

Shenandoah was interesting and the leaves were pretty, but not nearly the show that New Hampshire and the rest of New England put on.  Drake really summed up the autumn on the Blue Ridge:  "It looks like bad shag carpeting from the '70's."  See what he means -  

One of the hallmarks of the Virginia autumn in the wild is the predominance of yellows and rust colors.  That's due to the yellow poplars and the elms.  There's also a lot of different oaks which tend to be rusty or just outright brown.  The most fun in Shenandoah was the chilly morning we took a hike to the summit of Stony Mountain and it snowed on us!  OK, it was just flurries, but it was constant.

Another unlooked for enjoyment came from a spur of the moment decision to drive over to Luray, Virginia, the Heart of the Shenandoah Valley, to see the Luray Caverns.  Now, there are caves and there are caves.  Some you seem to be just circling their one real nice stalagmite or column, and others like Carlsbad are one outstanding rock formation after another.  Well, the Luray Caverns, discovered in 1878, falls much closer to the Carlsbad standard.  In point of fact, these are the best caverns I've seen since Carlsbad.  People have been touring these caves since the 1880's and there's a whole little attraction complex surrounding the caverns now.  They have so many nifty formations that the tour takes more than an hour.  My favorite part was the 2500 square foot lake which was only about two feet deep, but when lighted shows an exact reflection of the stalactites above it.

My favorite formation was the 'waterfall'.  These are pretty rare and only grow at the rate of about one inch every 130 years.  They are originally falling water.  Apparently, it takes longer to turn moving water into stone.  

The Luray Caverns Attraction Complex had restaurants, a fudge shop, a toy store, an English garden maze, and an antique car museum.    Like caves, car museums can be spectacular or pretty disappointing.  This one was crammed with some really vintage models including Rudolph Valentino's 1925 Rolls Royce, painted to look like it was covered in alligator skin, an actual carriage from the 1720's, and a wagon actually used to ferry railroad passengers to the Luray Caverns.  They also had one of the earliest examples of a 'horseless carriage'.  Not surprisingly, these nascent cars DID look like carriages without horses.  That example above of an early car is an 1892 Benz.  My favorite car was the 1930 Cord - mainly because of the color.  According to a mechanic we chatted with, every car in the museum was in complete running order.  You could start them up, and drive them out the doors.

As we drove back into Richmond, it became obvious that the leaves had really gotten tuned up in our absence.  Every view all over town seemed to be in technicolor.  
   

 There is some variety of planted maple which are like flames. Here they are in the parking lot of my local library in Henrico, Virgina.   All over town looks like this.  Today, I was eating at a Ruby Tuesday and looked out the window to discover there's a variety of crepe myrtle here whose leaves turns flame red in the fall.  There was an entire line of them which were sporting the hot pink flowers when we got here and now their flowers are gone but their leaves are the exact color of a red-orange Crayon.    Here's a representative picture of the mixed forest that is Richmond's landscape.  We've joked that the tree trimmers and leave rakers can really make more than a decent living here.  Drake has been so thankful he doesn't own a house here with the attendant 'leaf pick up and disposal' problems.  

We decided to take advantage of what will probably be the last day of summer (temp was 77 degrees) and check out autumn at Pocohontas State Park, the largest in Virginia, and only about an hour south of Richmond.   We settled on doing a small hike around Beaver Lake, which in Texas we would have named Beaver POND.  The only wild life we saw were squirrels, but as small as the alleged lake was, there were fishermen in evidence (big mouth bass and a few pike according to one we met on the trail).  It was a pretty spot.

Overall, I have to say that the autumn around Richmond has been gorgeous much prettier thanks to the planted trees than the Blue Ridge.  According to locals I've met, the tree color here is rated as a 'down year'.  I've heard at least a couple of times, "It was much prettier last year."  All I can say is they shouldn't look this gift horse in the mouth.  Lots and lots of places would love to have these beautiful trees.

If you want to see the rest of the Shenandoah Valley/Blue Ridge pictures, here they are:

https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5939238633933979537?rlz=1C1SFXN_enUS500US500&ie=UTF-8&authkey=CJ3Tot-3_I7MswE

More Observations of Women in the Islamic World

(Readers,  this is a guest column from one of my long time friends who spent ten years living and working in Saudi Arabia.  These are his observations based on that experience.) 

Dear Jan,

It is not the black robes and veil that oppress women.  It is the entire Islamic culture that oppresses women.  There are a dozen mainstream laws of Islam which demand and require that women become and remain second class citizens in any Islamic society.  "Women are your tilth" (property as a field or garden) the faithful are told in so many words in the Koran "Use them as you will".  Women can not join men in the mosque; they must be invisible behind a screen in the back.  Men can divorce at will; women must petition an Islamic court.  Men can take up to 4 wives at any one time; women can have only one husband.  Men can marry Jews or Christians if they wish.  Women must marry only Muslim men.  In a court of law a man's testimony is worth that of two women.  If a man who has washed for prayers encounters a woman, he must repeat his ablutions because contact with a woman makes him unclean.  After sex, there are no tender cuddles in the afterglow; the man must rise immediately to wash off the pollution of contact.  Women taken in adultery are stoned to death.  Men have so many opportunities for fornication, what with multiple wives and concubines and ''temporary" wives, etc. that you can never (well almost never) hear of a man getting in trouble for adultery.  

Add to that the cultural baggage of Arab, Persian, Turkish and Egyptian societies, and those black robes are actually the least of women's worries.  In Saudi Arabia, those women could not drive or even the leave the house without their husbands' permission.  

One of my co-workers in Saudi Arabia, "Al", a fellow Okie, told me about a rough and ready Arab technician he worked with, a very hard case who kept a British .303 rifle in the trunk of his Chevy sedan.  One day this technician just took off from work, didn't sign out for vacation, didn't leave word, just wasn't there for a week.  

When he came back, Al asked him, "Hey Abdullah, where have you been?"

Abdullah answered casually, "I had to go kill my sister."

Al did a double-take and said, "Say whaaattt???"

Abdullay said, "Yeah, my sister dishonored the family.  So me and my brothers, we took her out into the desert, shot her and buried her."

As Al told the tale, Abdullah did not even have his paycheck docked for time off work for this homicidal (sororicidal?) episode. 

The Arab women who were born into this culture were basically stuck with it.  To renounce any part of Islamic law and custom was considered heresy, and in Islam the penalty for heresy is death.  

But why any Western woman would voluntarily sign up for such a situation mystifies me.  But I knew half a dozen British and American women with stars in their eyes who married Arab men and willingly converted to Islam, took on the veil, and the black robes and the whole routine.  As converts tend to be, some of them were more Islamic than the Muslims.  There ain't no limit to human folly.  If Katy (Dale's young daughter) ever tells me she wants to marry a Muslim man, I'll knock her on the head, carry her home and lock her in the basement until common sense returns.

But, do Arab women consider themselves oppressed?  In a word, no.  They think they are being protected, and honored, and valued, and supported in the manner to which they wanted to become accustomed.  They pity western women who have to go out into the world with bare faces and bare arms and legs and make a living on their own.  They pitied the American women soldiers who came over during Desert Storm because they had to work with men and sleep in tents next to men and thus were obviously debased prostitutes of no more status than a slave.

So here is that yawning cultural divide again.  We think Islamic women are oppressed, and that the robes and veils are visible symbols of that oppression.  They think they are not, and prefer to cover up especially if Auntie and Granny are around to cry "shame" on them.  They think all you Western women are forlorn sluts and do not think the freedom to go out into the world and make their own living is worth the risk of disgrace and dishonor.  

And on that note, we and they may have to agree to disagree.

All best wishes,

Dale

Perturbed, Disturbed and Angry

I was at Sam's last week, yes, Sam's  Club - Walmart's cousin, and I saw a woman dressed in a full burka.  Basically, she looked like this.  My mouth dropped open, and I literally stopped walking.   I looked again.  She was with a man, presumably her husband, and she had a little girl by the hand, who was about four.  The little girl was wearing a lightweight short sundress and a pair of sandals. 

Then, I felt this incredible rush of anger. 

I walked away really shaken and trying to figure out why I felt such anger which felt intolerant and prejudiced.  It took me a few minutes to get my feelings under control, but the sense of 'this isn't right' just wouldn't go away.  I wished I'd gone up and talked to her, but as Drake put it, "Thank God your better judgement prevailed."  What I felt was based on my Western perception that this garb symbolizes the oppression of women.  Then I had to step back and ask, does it?

First, wearing a 'burka' is NOT a requirement in the Qur'an  (Koran).  Yes, this holy book does prescribe modesty for women, but  apparently, the full covering stems from custom in the time of Mohamed rather than scripture.  So, let's say you're a 21st century Muslim woman and you choose to wear the burka.  Are you oppressed because you choose modesty in the strict Eastern interpretation?   There are some women around the world who wear the burka as a  symbol of their direct rejection of Western culture.  Others say they wear it because they don't like being judged by their bodies.

It still seems like oppression because I'm not convinced that women in an Islamic society are exercising free choice.  Are we not all brainwashed  to a greater or lesser extent by our culture?  The strict Islam culture believes in the subjugation of women and enforces this view by teaching women they must conform or they will bring shame on themselves and their families and ultimately damn themselves to hell.  Guilt and shame are powerful emotions which can cause anyone buckets of anguish and doubt.   

Clothing customs are very much a matter of culture.  Throughout history, men always seems to be obsessed with how much (or how little) women wear.  Islamic men do not have a corner on this.   In our own country's experience, clothing was very much an instrument of control.  A woman can not run, or even move very fast in 50 pounds of clothing in nine layers  which was commonly accepted dress throughout most of the 19th century.  

Corsets have been a standard undergarment since the 1600's.  The Victorians refined it into an instrument of torture by prescribing the lacing be so tight as to obstruct breathing and cause actual physical deformity.  A woman appearing in public without a corset was tantamount as a declaration of prostitution.  In most places in America in the 1800's there were laws prohibiting women from wearing trousers in public.  You could certainly expect to be arrested, and your husband/father would be chastised for allowing their wife/daughter to appear in pubic dressed indecently.  Sound familiar?

My point is that women have been conditioned throughout history to accept cultural clothing strictures, and it is very, very recently, and only in a relatively small percentage of the world that a woman ACTUALLY  has free choice. in the matter of her own clothing.  There is also no 'choice' involved if a woman is considered fair game for rape or being beaten or both if she doesn't choose to wear the burka.  Since the woman in Sam's doesn't run that risk from the general public, you have to accept she is choosing the burka.   This is America.  She can wear what she wants even if I think it's nuts.   

Some Western countries are banning the burka.  They cite the faux choice argument (pressured by men, religious custom, etc.), as well as something I think is much more important.  Burkas cover bruises.  One rationale for burka ban is that women can be more easily abused, when only their eyes and hands are visible.  There are some studies that seem to indicate women who live in societies that insist on the burka have higher rates of abuse than societies that are more clothing flexible. 

When I finally sorted myself out about why this woman at Sam's Club disturbed me so, I realized that it wasn't her that bothered me - it was the little girl whose hand she was holding.  That little girl was dressed in typical little American girl attire.  What is going to happen to her when she's thirteen?  How in good conscience can her mother wear clothing that screams oppression and subjugation over a vast part of the world?  Why would she set this example?  All said and done - that's what really, really made me so angry.  We've struggled and struggled as women to have cultural and economic equality in this country.  I don't want any little girl who lives in America to be sent the message by her own mother that inferior and unequal and subjugated to men is in ANY way OK.
         

Maymont, The Gilded Age Mansion

When we moved to Richmond, we asked people what they considered to be the best attraction in their city.  Over and over again, people suggested we visit "Maymont".  Turns out that

Maymont is a 100 acre park on the James River.  The property was bought by the Thomas and Sally Dooley in the 1890's.  He was an early backer of railroads in the devastated South and made a boat load of money on them.  He was an Irish, Catholic Confederate vet, and she was a western Virginia upper middle class Episcopalian.  The families disowned both upon their marriage due to their different faiths, and never reconciled.   

The couple discovered this beautiful property while horseback riding. He bought the land and they built a small mansion which she surrounded with gardens of her own design.  This property is so special because it never changed hands. The Dooley's never had children, and upon Mrs. Dooley's death in 1925 (her husband died in 1920), the property was deeded to the City of Richmond along with all the furnishings.  Maymont is an unparalleled example of a Gilded Age mansion with all the fixins'  It's never been lived in by anyone besides the original owners.  It's never been remodeled.  The original furniture is still intact.  AND, the Foundation that maintains the property is experimenting with allowing visitors to take non-flash photography of not only the outside but also the interior of the mansion! 

Richmondtonians?  Richmondians?  Richmondtons?  (I don't know what these folks call themselves) are justifiably proud of this property.  You will see what I mean when you catch the pix.  Oh, and I'm always talking about how beautiful it is here in town - well, this property kind of shows you what I mean.

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Williamsburg and Yorktown

Southern English Colonial America is defined by three historic sites: Williamsburg, Jamestown and Yorktown.   All three are located on a peninsula of land formed by the James River on the west side and the York River on the east side each emptying into the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay where it meets the Atlantic Ocean.  The land between these two rivers is an American historical jackpot.  

Once you which grasp the geography, it's very easy to understand what made this place very attractive to the early English Colonists.  Jamestown, a virtual island floating in the mouth of the James River, was considered easy to defend and had the added bonus of two navigable river accesses north into the mainland.  Williamsburg was the refinement of Jamestown - better water, out of the swamps, and easier to reach for trade with the rest of young Colonies.  Yorktown's attraction was the deep harbor situated at the neck where the Chesapeake Bay empties into the Atlantic Ocean.   I think we toured the peninsula correctly by seeing these iconic American historical sites in chronological order as they were settled: Jamestown first, Williamsburg, next and finally the Yorktown battlefield. 

Jamestown is the area first settled by 104 Englishmen in 1607. Those initial colonists were quickly followed by a series of ships coming roughly three times a year carrying colonists, and in 1609 included English women. (Obviously, you can't have guys cavorting with those Native women).  By 1609 there were 500 colonists.  At the end of the winter that started in 1609 and finally gave way to spring in 1610, there were 60 colonists.  It's called the 'starvation time' in the Colonial diaries and journals left behind. The colonists finally resorted to cannibalism to survive. (This had been documented by the archaeologists.)   That winter the Powhatan Indians finally realized these new people were not going away, and their numbers were increasing with each new ship that landed.  Feeling justifiably threatened, the Indians bottled up the Colonists inside their fort. Failure of the crops that year mandated hunting to survive.  Any colonists who ventured out of the fort to hunt were slaughtered that winter by the Indians. Only 60 English were left out of 500 when spring and a new ship arrived just in the nick of time. 

The most important English colonist arrived in May of 1610:  John Rolfe.  Without a cash crop export, no colony could survive in the 17th century.  John Rolfe learned how to grow

Caribbean tobacco in Virginia which was in hot demand in England.  Rolfe and tobacco solidified the economic base of the new colony.  I saw my first bale of tobacco at Virginia State Fair, and I'm sure it hasn't changed much in 400 years.

Jamestown was interesting for what worked and what didn't.  It was a final fire destroying the Virginia Colonial Statehouse that sent the government seat to Williamsburg and turned Jamestown into a ghost town and farmland within a very short period of time.  This was a blessing in disguise since its archaeological treasures are just below the plowed surface.  Our 21st century problem will doom this significant historical site.  Global warming is causing the rise of the Atlantic Ocean, which is rising the James River and within 15 years, the site of the original English settlement in North America will be under water.

Williamsburg is a collection of colonial buildings which have been resuscitated by vision and Rockefeller money.  In the 1930's John D's oldest son and wife paired with activists in 20th century Williamsburg setting up an ongoing Foundation and pouring millions of dollars into rescuing the dilapidated Colonial buildings along the  Duke of Gloucester Street.  These buildings were on the main drag of 18th century Williamsburg.  In addition to ordinary houses and shops, this street includes the Governor's Palace, the Colonial Statehouse, historic taverns, the Bruton Anglican Church, the Colonial Magazine (armory) of Virginia, and an open air food market all surrounding a Colonial green.

What sets Williamsburg apart from other Colonial sites (such as Deerfield, Massachusets)  are not only the Rockefeller money, but also the actors doing historic re-enactments of life and skills practiced in 18th century America.

 
When you walk into the Silversmith's shop, there are people in period costumes making silver objects using Colonial tools and methods.   A Revolutionary officer and his wife are strolling the street stopping to visit.  Taverns built in the early 1700's are serving food.  Handlers are driving authentic carriages and wagons up and down the street.  Each building is filled with Colonial furniture and decorations and staffed with actors in Colonial costumes.  The Armory is filled with antique Colonial weapons.
So far, we've been to Williamsburg twice and have a third trip planned to see the buildings we've missed in our first two trips.

The other Colonial site is the Yorktown battlefield.  It's here that George Washington defeated Lord Cornwallis with the aid of French weapons, French soldiers, and the French fleet.  It's at Yorktown that the British population lost their taste for a war that just kept dragging on and on and on, and the Americans proved they finally had a fully functioning army.  The American long gun and the marksmanship the Americans were able to achieve using it, together with the ability to execute a battle plan, defeated the best army in the world. (The Americans capitalized on the accuracy of the long gun at longer range. Their best marksmen climbed trees during the battles and functioned as the first American snipers, deliberately picking off English officers during the Revolutionary battles and disrupting on the battlefield communications.  The crackerjack British units were led completely by their officer corps and without them, simply didn't know what to do during the fighting. The British considered this tactic to be just short of a 'war crime'.)

Yorktown's military importance can be instantly understood by looking at a map.  The French fleet controlled the "neck" where the Chesapeake Bay meets the Atlantic Ocean.  They defeated the British fleet sending it back to the North thus trapping the southern portion of the British army on the same peninsula where Jamestown and Williamsburg are still located. Washington hurriedly marched the majority of the Continental Army South and, using the Marquis de Lafayette's battle suggestions, the American army and French troops defeated Cornwallis and 5000 British soldiers.  Today, the battlefield is mostly grass grown over redoubts and trenches  scattered over long ragged earth mounded lines looking out toward the York River.  The mounds so visible today are mostly the result of the Confederate Army digging dirt fortifications in the same Revolutionary War spots as they defended the peninsula against Union ships.  I've heard of Yorktown my entire life, but being here has finally helped me grasp its significance.

These three places define Southern Colonial America in the same way that Plymouth and Boston define the colonies in the North. I believe that history often turns on small events.  A ship that arrives a month later in 1610 finds a deserted Jamestown.  Lafayette's admiration of Washington turns into a winning military tactics team.  Williamsburg supplants Jamestown just as 100 years later Richmond supplants Williamsburg - leaving entact it's Colonial architectural heritage.  We came to Virginia for the American history, and so far it's delivered in spades.

I took pictures, pictures and more pictures mostly in Williamsbtached to Williamsburg.  You're welcome to view them:

https://plus.google.com/urg, but also in Yorktown.  I also took pictures in the two art museums atu/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5924961010825115697?authkey=CLLrkd3r66GlFg
       

A Bust Day

I should have listened to Drake's intuition.  (Don't tell him I said that; I'll NEVER hear the end of it.)  Everyone knows how much I love Fairs.  Some of our best days of vagabonding have been spent at both little and big fairs.  Who can forget eight year olds herding pigs around a ring with a long stick?  Is there anything more entertaining than llama packing?  There's something totally satisfying watching the longhorn cattle competition and trying to pick winners in each class.  Why, that's almost as fun as guessing the correct evaluation on Antiques Roadshow.  Lumberjack competitions are fast, furious, and involve quite a bit of cheering.  We both love seeing tiny children all dressed up in cowboy garb leading a massive animal around a ring.  Don't forget the 'costume' parade on top of big horses.  

I had high hopes for the Virginia State Fair.  Drake was less than lukewarm.  I convinced him on the basis of anecdotal information from our hairdresser about how fun the fair was, as well as the $8 admission and the free parking.  Finally, Drake capitulated saying, "OK, we're not doing anything else."  Part of going was also influenced by the cancellation of our Washington D.C. trip.  (Oh, please, don't get me started on those idiots in the House of Representatives.)  It was a bad trade-off.

Things started out pretty good, other than we are having a heatwave here, and it was almost 90 degrees the day we chose to go to the fair.  We started at the sheepdog trials which were fun for about 15 minutes, but they just didn't capture our interest.  We moved onto the miniature horse show which was better, but both of these competitions would have been a lot better if they hadn't been held outdoors with the sun beating down.  There was no shade either for the competitors or the spectators.  In retrospect both these events turned out to be the high points of the day.

Still, I was heartened by this fun little photo opportunity involving my used to be favorite fair food - more of 'why' later. I thought, "Okie, Dokie - this is great."  Then I saw the tunnel...and the trek.  A big quirk of the Virginia State Fair is that it's laid out in two sections, and the sections are divided by a four lane divided highway.  There's a tunnel like walkway under the highway.  It's a loooooong way from one side to the other.  Since I never saw the mythical shuttle service between the sides, it meant with my foot difficulties we really couldn't go 'back and forth'.  OK.....first strike.

 

Now a big part of fair time is the food, of course.  I've had some amazing fair food over the past four years, and some of it hasn't even been bad for you. Well, OK, a very small percentage of it hasn't been a visit to Heart Attack City nestled in the heart of Grease and Fat County.  I'm specifically thinking of the fresh salmon and home grown blueberry crepes we had at the Skagit County Fair.  Oh, those were so unexpected, and so delicious. Usually it's hot dogs, hamburgers, funnel cakes, Icee's - the blah of Fair Food.  I'm always on the look out for my personal favorites:  Texas State Fair Corndogs, Maple Cotton Candy, Apple Fritters, homemade ice cream, Fried Butter.  The Virginia State Fair food was SOOOOO forgettable - the usual blah stuff plus foot long corn dogs, regular cotton candy, soft serve ice cream, one type of funnel cake, and, do you know what their 'fried food' was?  Oreos.  Oh, please, so boring, so done by everyone else forever.  It was all so unappealing that I only ate the substandard corn dog, with a $.75 cent ice tea.  I do love cotton candy, well, make that I DID love cotton candy - but the spun maple sugar version in New Hampshire has totally ruined the pink stuff for me.  Virginia Fair Food:  second strike.

We love to look at the animals, and if we're lucky, we get the bonus of talking to the kids who raised them.  At the Virginia STATE Fair, two out of the big three animal barns were empty even though we went mid-fair.  What's up with that?  It didn't tell me anywhere in the fair promotion ads that the majority of the fair animals would be taking a sabbatical this year.  There were no cows, no horses, no oxen, no sheep, no goats.  Here's what we saw:  miniature horses, pigeons, chickens, and rabbits, and that's it.  There was one animal I've never seen at a Fair before.  Yes, that's a real live giraffe.  You could buy carrots for $1 and feed them to the giraffe.  I had to laugh, though, when I saw this sign:  "DO NOT FEED THE GIRAFFE FROM YOUR MOUTH".  Never overlook the possibility of stupid people tricks.  Lack of farm animals....BIG MINUS, but the up close giraffe viewing saved this from being the third strike.  

The third strike and you're out for this Fair wound up being the Arts and Handicrafts barn.  Because of my embroidery hobby, this part of any Fair is always what I look forward to the most.  I love looking at real experts' work.  The Virginia State Fair handicrafts were terrible.  Mostly, it was like looking at the elementary school walls on Parents' Night.  I was hoping the quilts would save the day.  Nope.  Here's the "Best in Show" Blue Ribbon Quilt.  Yes, some skill involved, but can we all say it together:  UGLY.  I did see one beautiful item, but one was not enough to save the entire exhibit.

All I can say is:  "Virginia State Fair, all I got from you is a pair of very sore feet, and a husband with I told you so rights.  How galling!