‘Twas the Night before Harding State Fair

‘Twas the night before Harding, when all through the grounds,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the hounds.
The cattle were stalled in the barns with care,
In hopes that 'Harding State Fair' soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of red ribbons danced in their heads.
Both farmer and wife sat out by the stall,

Relaxing with a cold bevy after such a long haul.

When down the road there arose such a clatter,

Everyone looked to see what was the matter.

With one final swig, farmer rose from his chair,

Wondering what gave his show string a scare.

The pink and gold sky gave just enough light,

For the farmer to see a very strange sight.

A rusty ol' rig came through the dust,

Packed to the roof about ready to bust.

The driver’s tanned arm propped up on the door,

It had to be Jimmy, the farmer was sure.

Unloading in the dust his spunky heifers came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name...

“On Simmental, on Angus, on Shorthorn, on Charolais,

On Hereford, on Maine on Limo, on Gelbvieh.

To the end of the barn; to the end of the alley,

Come, boss! Come, boss! Come, boss!"

Then with a loud bang the trailer door shut,

The last heifer taking off like a dumb nut.

Up from their chairs the farmers arose,

As the heifer came running from down below.

She was red and white with stubby little horns,

Her Hereford curls covered in dirt and thorns.

Her head was still shaggy; not even clipped,

As she ran into the barns, Jimmy came with a show stick.

The look on his face was clear as can be,

He was about to show this heifer who the boss would be.

He reached forward with his show stick,

Grabbing the halter; making it look so slick.

The heifer pulled back not knowing what to do,

As little Jimmy prepared for round two.

Everyone stood still and open eyed,

When they made it to their stall and no one died.

Jimmy unloaded his tack just before dark,

Hoping to get some sleep before the morning light sparked.

With one last check and everyone settled in for the night,

He parked his truck and trailer over by a near light.

He jumped into his back-seat make shift bed,

With the same old sweater to put under his head.

He shut his eyes and dreamed the same dream;

Not knowing the next day, he would qualify for the RBC Beef Supreme.

Written by Naomi Best