Cotton Pickin' Good Time

As many of you will recall, I traditionally spelled Ginger on Saturday mornings during the trying days of overnight feedings and four-hour sleep cycles.  Well, we made it to three meals a day and sleeping all night, but I don't think we anticipated the . . . uh . . .  intensity with which Walt would live his life once he developed a routine . . .  and turned two.  So, on the heels of five straight days with the little fella' (see below), Mommy was certainly due for a break.  Thanks to a fortuitous late-night visit to the local paper's website, I discovered this event, taking place in Memphis this weekend.  Go ahead, click on the link . . .  That's right.  Cotton.  The fabric of our lives.  It makes for great blue jeans and even better conventions.

You would think the stuff grows to be 14 feet high by looking at the equipment they use to plant, plow, water, fertilize, harvest, gin and bale it.  White gold, they call it.  In fact, I saw that on a license plate on the front of the largest Ford truck I've ever seen in the valet lot of the Peabody Hotel.  Usually, those spaces are reserved for Bentleys and the other ridiculously priced luxury sedans typically owned by NBA players.  Not this weekend.  This weekend in Memphis cotton was king again.  Oh, and also Walt.

As promised in the Association press release, "[m]ore
than 400 exhibitors from over 40 states and three foreign countries will occupy
over 200,000 square feet of exhibit space in the Convention Center. Show
attendees will see a greater number of farm equipment manufacturers, specialized
services, the latest in seed varieties, and new technologies in precision
farming software and services."  And, of course, Walt and I were among the estimated 15,000 people to attend the two-day event.

The Southern Cotton Ginners didn't disappoint.  We saw harvesters that were over three stories tall, sprayers that stretched impossible distances and scaled-down remote control models of both.  (Walt was afraid of the giant harvester.)  We saw freezing cotton queen wannabes crossing the street in tiaras and evening wear.  (I think the humor of the cotton queens was lost on Walt.)  As promised, we saw demonstrations of the latest in precision farming software and pieces of equipment as big as our house that operate with GPS guidance.  (Walt was equally unimpressed with this.)  We even met an engineer from International Harvester who drew the short straw and had to attend the convention along with the half-million dollar harvester he helped design.  (Walt was too busy worrying about said "Cadillac of harvesters" to hear what the young man had to say to me.)  What did Walt find most appealing about the whole affair?  FREE POPCORN.  In the picture below he enjoys his second cup and ponders the destruction he could sow with the 40-foot wide "Whopper Chopper" that was for sale behind him.

Putty, can I borrow $16,900?

In other news about fluffy, white stuff, my aforementioned, five-day absence was because I went to Steamboat Springs, Colorado for three days of snowboarding.  I love my wife.  Just because I have control of the blog for tonight, I offer a few pictures of what turned out to be an epic extended weekend of precipitation for me and my fellow enthusiasts.

When all was said and done, my friends Brent, Clay, Kimberly and I had about 36 inches of the white stuff during the three days we were skiing and riding.  The snow on Brent's goggles and jacket in the photo below was the result of being in the gondola line for about ten minutes.  (That's the best photo of me from the whole weekend.  I'm sure Brent is thrilled about that.)

These are my feet.  Oh, and more snow than I've ever seen in my entire life.

All of these photos were taken with a $10, disposable digital camera I bought at Rite-Aid.  Not bad.

Wow!