The Goshen Fair is the real deal.

Draft horses, dairy, beef cattle and the show rings are up front and first to be seen by fair-goers streaming in the gates – what a treat Lively music mixes and mingles from the bandstand and locations. There are the crowds heard from a back arena (down the hill) where truck pulls roar with full-throttled thunder – but for us, the heart of a fair is people and livestock, competition – new sights to see and savor, things to learn, plenty of folks to meet – including a feisty Connecticut agricultural living legacy.

Rick Wadhams is president of the Goshen Agricultural Society; his mother Marjorie Wadhams is 97 years young, hasn't missed a fair yet, won a second in the baking competition this year – and her family helped found the annual event.

So much to observe – a sawmill planing fresh lumber near a farm museum, the blacksmith and his anvil worked red-hot metal, a lively multi-dog performance on the children's stage by the Muttville Comix. (“Mr. Fish” is a memorable canine troupe member.)

Oh, the fair fare – from the aroma of freshly-made kettle corn wafting by to tickle olfactory desires to the temptation of fresh, hot fried dough or batter-dipped onion rings. There are paper cones filled with salted french fries and cups of cold frothy sippables – something for everyone.

The grounds are near immaculate, wheelbarrows and rakes at the ready to keep things tidy as can be when hosting so many four-legged and two-legged visitors. Cow pats and road apples seen here and there made it an authentic fair, in our opinion. The barns, courtesy and showmanship around every corner set it apart from other more commercial “entertainment” happenings.

(There are also rows and rows of vendors whose goods we never got around to peruse while enthralled by the competitions and displays.) For the weekend ahead, visit the International Association of Fairs and Expositions (IAFE) site, which lists fairs, expositions and festivals by date or location.

Note: More featured photos and people met, to come.