Eight seconds

Kate and I spent our Saturday night at the Shelby County Rodeo, and a good time was had by all. I got to wear my boots, got to play with my camera, and have since managed to get the cow stink out of my jeans . . . a success. I've still got a lot to learn about the ol' camera. I was trying so hard to get my shutter speed just right that I didn't spend time compensating for the bad lighting. Oh well. I got what I got!

Calf roping . . . those little calves were moving.



This large fella was the raffle prize.

Kate: Who on earth would want a giant cow as a prize? Where would you put him?

Me: They're not raffling the cow. They're raffling . . . beef.

Kate: . . . Oh.

And then there was the bullriding. Not many of the riders stayed on the whole eight seconds, but it was fun to watch anyway. One rider did get his arm broken when the bull stepped on it. People around us seemed shocked. Shocked that someone had gotten hurt . . . bullriding. Are you even allowed to be shocked about the outcome when you climb onto an angry, extra large animal who is hellbent on getting you off. his. back?

My pictures of the barrel racing and steer roping didn't turn out at all, but those were my two favorite events. If teaching doesn't work out for me, I may have a future as a steer roper.

I love living in the South.