Feeling like a champion

I was feeling a little despondent but consoled myself that we were in it! Amid juggling paid work, volunteer commitments, running a household with a huge garden, back to school and our wonderful social lives I'd managed to get the forms in to enter the 2012 Royal Canberra Show.

My champion ribbon!

It had been a late night and I'd been struck by a virus. I dosed myself up on coffee and cold and flu tablets and we worked into the night, baking, pasting, preparing. Imogen made cupcakes but I gave her the wrong size tin and a terrible untested recipe for glace icing. We'd spent all our time working out how to get the cupcakes out of the tin without patty pan papers and neglected the glace glory.

Then there was the eggs. I collected the eggs for weeks then Imogen generously gave away half a dozen to a little friend and I used some for birthday baking confident our hens would keep laying three eggs a day.
Then they stopped. I realise now that hot weather of course, makes hens go off the lay!

We begged some eggs from the farmer around the corner so that we could at least lay claim to local produce but they were old and didn't match our pristine half dozen. The girls prepared their 'healthy lunch box' entries for the cookery section of the show - a new category. I rose at dawn and picked my herbs fresh with dew.  The refrain from the traditional ballad; parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.  I trimmed off any blemishes and artfully arranged them in a nice container. I was only entering the 'collection of four distinct herbs; clearly labelled' section to be a role model. How could I expect them to enter the show without making an effort myself.

Four different kinds of herbs

I raced out with my special pass and merged into the excitement of Harvest Hall as cooks, bakers, gardeners and growers joined together to show off their creative Cornucopia. I parked my car and delivered all the entries. The smell of livestock hit my nostrils with an organic splash of urea, hay and nitrogen. The excitement as city meets country. I saw Dave the demon horticulturalist who placed his entries and urged me next year to take the day off work and school so the girls could see the judges inspecting and measuring the vegetables and tasting the preserves.

I felt a great sense of achievement that we had entered the show as competitors. Inspired and encouraged by Dave and Libby who give it a go every year. It was with some disbelief that a day or so later Craig phoned me to say the gentleman farmer of Crookwell and his beautiful wife were first on the scene to see my champion ribbon. Not just first prize but champion! The girls also won Highly Commended for their healthy lunch boxes thank goodness after my stuff-ups with the eggs and the patty cakes. I have been over the moon ever since.

We couldn't get to the show until Sunday but everything was on display in all its glory including a friend's son's prize winning army cake entitled World War Three. Apparently his brother's gummi bears armed with bazookas on the milk arrowroots didn't get a prize but were a popular favourite. I ran into teachers from the school and they were excited that so many people in our community had entered and won prizes including the championship dahlia exhibitors. I recognised the dahlias from the front office of the school. One of the employees brings in exquisite vases of dahlias and seasonal blooms which perfectly suit the art deco foyer.

Champion for best collection; garden produce

It was an afternoon I will not forget in a long time and now we know the show is far more than dagwood dogs, expensive show bags and dizzy rides. As I watched the parade of bulls from Longreach to Hurlstone flanked by hundreds of pony club competitors I knew the show is where we celebrate town and country.

Six brown (but local)  interlopers; Our hens went off the lay

Award winning dahlias

Sculptural in their form; dahlias

Breathtaking!

A very hot and tired grumpy little pumpkin