Dave and I went to see Mom and Dad at the ploughing match. The air was crisp, you could hear the squeak of the leather and the clink of the harness chains and the quiet snuffle of the horse with a “Gee” and a “Haw” cried forth now and again. Sometimes you could hear a ploughman holler,”Bess get over there!”

I loved those sounds!

The eyes had a feast as well. There were colourful tents to house the various displays, many with corporate flags snapping in the breeze, while country folk and city alike took in the demonstrations of agricultural prowess. Farmers view big hulking equipment with bigger price tags while sales reps try to pry more bank dollars from him, while his spouse eyes the exhibits of handiwork and culinary arts.

The nose, every once in a while, receives some slightly malodorous whiff that is followed swiftly by tantalizing odours from the food booths . . . .  the candy concessions  . . the popcorn machines. . .there’s something for everyone.