Last Christmas, Randy and Chelsea DuVall wanted to give their daughter, Harper, a gift that reflected their shared passion showing dairy cattle, would last longer than any toy and be more personal than a store-bought present.

I’d only been in the house for 10 or 15 minutes when my phone buzzed. I’d stepped in to grab a sandwich, or whatever I could conjure up on my own, for lunch. Although it was only in the mid-80s, it felt like an oppressively hot day.

If you’ve ever felt your heart race in a show ring or measured your summer in ribbons, you already know: The county fair isn’t just an event, it’s a way of life.

Working hard works, well, until it doesn’t. And it doesn’t always work when my girls enter the show ring for the market judging class during the county fair.

A few years ago, during an August hot enough to fry pancakes on sidewalks, I was home while my hubby handled 4-H at the fair with the kids. He oversaw some 4-H activities at the time, so he stayed at the fairgrounds while I trucked an hour one way back home to take care of chores on our little ranch.

I try to do my best to warn people about the realities of country living versus the little-red-barn, paint-by-number version. For some reason, I feel a particular responsibility to be the warning angel of the 4-H sector. Take, for example, steers.

There’s nothing quite like the county fair. It’s one of those places where your senses come alive with the sights, sounds and smells that will develop into a lifetime of memories.