Red Hot Chili Pipers and Big-Butted Blues

This morning we received an even earlier wake up call, 6:00 (which is 1:00 AM at home), then headed downstairs for breakfast, where we may have accidentally eaten haggis. We decided that we might prefer not to know. Then we loaded up on the bus and, shockingly, Cassidy promptly fell asleep (followed shortly by Courtney, though she claims otherwise).

Chaos struck as soon as we hit the fairgrounds. From frantically hunting for the rare species of unstained lab coat to trying to avoid accidentally ending up in the beef judging ring, we had an interesting morning. We judged two classes of Holsteins, an Ayrshire class, and a Jersey class. The classes were fast, they said eight minutes, but we are sure they were no more than five, even for reasons.  This is also probably the only time any of us will be able to say that we gave reasons in a women's bathroom (which was somewhat awkward for Ian).

After we were finished, we enjoyed some very heavily toasted Toasties and our new favorite food, chocolate flakes, which are eaten dipped in ice cream and taste like heaven. We then won slap bracelets in the European Union tent. Obviously, slap bracelet wars between Ian and Julia ensued, much to Kiera's dismay. As we watched the Parade of Champions in the main ring, we were both impressed and horrified at the obscenely large and bodacious butts of the British Blues beef cattle (hopefully Kiera won't censor this part out). We also enjoyed seeing their champion dairy cattle, but Cassidy was outraged that there was not a single Brown Swiss to be seen. However, there were approximately 873201937859 beef cows, including Highlanders, Blondes, and Simmentals. The champion Highlander was owned by the Queen of England! After the parade, we learned that the average Grand Prix horse could clear Anne's head in a jump, and that Courtney enjoys ogling male world champion horse riders. Let the record show that, according to Courtney, a male's attractiveness is directly proportional to how many medals he's won in the horse arena.

At dinner with the Minnesota team, we managed to keep the waiter busy supplying us with water, and estimate that we emptied at least 17 pitchers between the 11 of us. However, our enormous water consumption didn't come without its cost. Ian was shamed into using the bus bathroom by lots of mockery and the playing of "Let it Go" over the bus's PA system. The rest of us managed to make it to the hotel. We were also serenaded by a group of kilt-wearing bagpipers, the Red Hot Chili Pipers.

Afterward, we swam in the hotel pool for a while, during which Julia decided to check out the sauna, before screaming in the face of a Speedo-clad Scotsman, slamming the door in his face, and sprinting back to the pool. Let it be known that this emotional outburst from Julia received a matching shriek from the Scotsman.
Good thing we're leaving this hotel tomorrow morning.

Quote of the day: "So, how 'bout that weather?" --Anne

**Kiera wanted us to let you know that comments/posts are welcome!