Sit down and let me tell you a fairy tale. Oh, come on, it's a fairly short one. Once every year there are a few days set aside where fair-minded people will gather together at the fair grounds. I think I am fairly safe here in saying it is a cultural phenomenon. Where else would you be able to find cross-geologically-contaminated concoctions like sweet and sour corn on the cob, barbecued crepes, Hunan hash, curried prairie oysters or moo goo gai pancakes? If you wish to join in the county fair tradition, here is a tip: You will find a plethora of animals raised by folks large and small, so you will need to brush up on your cowboy waltz. That is, boot-scootin' around the cow pies while holding one's breath.

Or you may want to purchase some of the fair trades. Don't blink because they are packed in tighter than a can of Copenhagen in the back pocket of blue jeans.

You can stroll through the fine arts and food display buildings, where you will witness for yourself Martha Stewart on steroids. There is something viciously competitive that goes on in a fair participant's brain that turns them into a "Hitler of the homestead" if you ask me.

The grand stand area hosts music and dancing. Go ahead and dance until your hips need rejiggering.

For the courageous and Dramamine-infused folks, there are the vomit-inducing carnival rides.

Cover the kiddies' ears though, on account of too many invectives floating around that would make the whore of Babylon blush.

The fairer sex will be out en masse and decked in the traditional western regalia, i.e. tight Wranglers and fringed shirts, while the fair-spoken males, sporting Ropers and Stetsons, are circumnavigating the fairway pretending not to notice them.

In all fairness, I can't leave out the rodeo. Horses and bulls with or without saddles. Silver buckles, rhinestones, hair braided or brushed until it shines then sprayed into place. And that's just the horses. The ladies look fine, too.

Each evening is filled with skill, thrills and adventure. That's just to get your food and find a seat.

I love fair time because it means the beginning of football, vibrant colors, a cornucopia of ripe, delicious foods and a fair shake at cooler temperatures.

New smells will be wafting through the house as women begin their assault on preserving a fair amount of winter storage.

Now, it's fairly obvious this isn't a fairy tale after all. I know it sounded lamer than a three-legged horse with stones in its shoes, but it was mostly the truth.

Just head on down to the Davis County Fair and partake of the culture. Maybe I'll see you there. I'll be the fairly short gal devouring one of the best sour kraut pizzas around!

'Till next time ...