Carmichael's Pumpkin Patch

On Saturday I took the boy and Nana Lana to Bixby to Carmichael's Pumpkin Patch - the one I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. 

It was a beautiful fall morning when we got there about 10am with a light, cool breeze. They had a petting zoo, butterfly house, live carousel, camel rides, corn maze, dark maze, a hayride, and PUMPKINS!

Look at all of them! And this is just a small section of them! They were everywhere!

Look at all of the colors and textures. Some of them look like they're covered in barnacles. 

And these? I'm not sure what happened here. It looks like a regular pumpkin and a green gourd got together and had a baby. But, they're pretty and interesting to look at, nonetheless. 

I call these ghost pumpkins. It looks like Bunnicula has been here. Yes, Bunnicula is a real word and a real literary character. Your childhood must have sucked if you never read the books. My condolences. 

There were scarecrows...

and bushels of corn stalks,

and butterflies! They had a large mesh tent and gave us Q-tips with "butterfly food" that I'm guessing was mushed up apple pulp. I don't know. I'm not a butterfly wrangler, so I'm just guessing.  We held our Q-tips down by their feet and then they would climb on. We held them on our fingers and held them up so they could latch onto the mesh walls. 

Rocco was a natural!  Like a butterfly whisperer or a butterfly cowboy!  He also got to ride one of the ponies on the live carousel and loved it. He loves animals and tries to get me to stop and buy goats every time we see one. 

Love his smiling face!

We took a hayride after that. It was short, but the boy had fun and that's really what matters. 

Then we rode a camel! This was a first for me. Not having stirrups for my feet felt a little strange, and it felt like we were 20 feet off the ground. This camel was over 7 feet tall and had quite a pungent smell. I'm going to guess that it's possibly because pee just runs down their legs and coats their hair. Disgusting. But, it was a fun ride, anyway. 

They also had a large selection of mums and Rocco had to smell all of them. 

We also got up close and personal with some llamas. Or are these alpacas? I'm not sure. I don't actually know the difference between the two. I'm not a llama or alpaca farmer. Anyhoo, the one on the right pinned its ears back and looked like it was considering spitting on us, so we walked away.  Spit...yuck. 

There were also baby pot-bellied pigs. They were shy and this was the best picture I could get. They were so tiny!  The rabbits were also uncooperative and I wasn't able to get a picture of them, either. 

The water buffalo calf was quiet and sleeping, as was the porcupine, who hid in his shelter while we were there.  He smelled just as bad as he did two weeks ago. 

The owner said these are some kind of African goat. We saw them a couple of weeks ago and they have the tiniest, and I mean the tiniest, legs. And the horns are sharp. Hands off. 

We had a great time and Rocco said he had a lot of fun. I don't think he stopped smiling the whole time we were there. Great memories made with two of my favorite people. If you live within reasonable driving distance of Bixby, Oklahoma, I highly recommend Carmichael's Pumpkin Patch southeast of town. It wasn't overcrowded and we didn't have to wait in line for anything. Admission is free, but you do have to pay for rides, if you want to ride them. But, they weren't expensive; I think we spent about $20 total for all three of us.  You won't be disappointed!

Conversations

After picking Rocco up from our Life Group childcare on Sunday, we weren't even out of the parking lot when he said, "I want to watch Thomas (the train) on you phone." I feel the need to clarify here that this threenager is not allowed to watch Thomas on our phones all the time. He asks - ALL THE TIME - but he is routinely told no, especially if his attitude has been threenagerish. On those occasions when he's been told that his attitude needs adjusting he will say, "I sowwy I was angwy, Mama. Can I watch Thomas on you phone now? I behaving now. I'm a happy boy," and then he smiles. He's mastered the manipulation maneuver. Still, it's the first thing he asks as soon as we get in the car. And it's not the cartoons he wants to watch. Nope, he likes to watch videos of random people showing their Thomas toys and tracks. It's in French, Chinese, or Spanish? He doesn't care. He just wants to watch people playing with their Thomas and Friends toys. I told him no and that I wanted him to tell me what he did at church that evening.

"Den I can watch Thomas on you phone?"

"Maybe. We'll talk about it. Now, tell me what you did tonight. Did you have fun? Did you play with other kids?"

He answered about four questions and then declared, "Okay, we done talking now. I need to watch Thomas on you phone now."

I'm not sure where he gets the bossiness from. I blame his father. 

A couple of days later, Nana K was taking Rocco to Chick-fil-A for lunch after school and she had turned down the wrong street. When she got to the light she told him that she didn't see the restaurant. "It's over dere. You need to turn wight and go dat way and take me to Chip-fehway, Nana K." He routinely likes to tell us where to go and how to get there. Honestly, though, he's good with directions after we've been somewhere once. He knows street names and landmarks and likes to draw maps. It's probably because he heard me giving out directions at work while he was still cooking in my belly. At least I know he'll never get lost. 

Later in the week, during his bath, he was drawing a map in the condensation on the wall, talking to himself, when suddenly he exclaimed, "Dat's da way to da White House (his preschool)! And da door is wocked! And I can't get in! It's cwosed today! And dat's not good! Miss Twaci wocked me out wiss da bwue key! And dat's not good!"

Imagine saying all of that in your sharpest tone of voice. Now stand rigidly, and for emphasis, squeeze your eyes shut tightly, throw your hands down, and jerk your legs straight at the end of each sentence. And when you're finished, give out one last long, low growl, just so we all know how disgusted you really are about your imaginary experience of being locked out of school. 

Last night we stopped at GNC and Rocco and Daddy waited for me in the car. After I got out Rocco said, "Daddy, we need to go to Atwoods."

"We have to wait on Mama first."

"No, we weave her here and we go by ourselves."

.........................hmm

One last conversational nugget came from the boy's father, aka my dude. We were coming home from dinner, having a nice drive through the country, windows down, the sweet smell that IS the country blowing in through the windows (sorry if you're not familiar with the smell, it sucks to be you), 80's country on the radio - you know, just having a nice peaceful ride while the boy watched Thomas on my phone in the back seat. We got on the highway and we were singing some old song when he blurted out, "You bought that sandpaper toilet paper again."

I won't tell you what his next sentence was, but just know that I laughed and laughed and laughed. I'll be honest, it is like sandpaper. I had forgotten that this particular jumbo roll package is somehow different than the double roll package by the same brand. Ouchy. Scratchy. Not what you want in your TP. He told me to burn the rest of the package. If you've ever read any old posts from my blog, this conversation shouldn't surprise you; toilet paper is probably a topic of conversation in our house every day. AND, AND, AND it should always roll off the top, not the bottom. Learn this, people. 

In other news, it's Friday and my husband's 25 year high school reunion is tonight. I've been awake since 4:30 am. Yay, me! The laundry has piled up again, I have homework to finish, and fall has officially begun - never mind that it was 90-some-odd degrees yesterday. But, a cold front is coming and bringing rain with it. Right now though, I think I need a nap. 

The week in pictures

A whole lot of nothing happened this week. A whole lot of nothing but normal, that is.

We worked.

We played. 

We ate. 

We slept. 

We hugged. 

We kissed. 

We went to school. 

We went for evening walks. 

We went to Bixby to buy farm fresh produce. 

Okay, so the last one was out of the ordinary. Bixby is about an hour away and I would normally buy from the Farmer's Market in Stillwater, but it's only open two mornings per week, and I had to work one of those days, and today was the OSU vs. Pitt game and I wasn't going anywhere near Stillwater because I didn't want to deal with the traffic nightmare known as Game Day. 

Rocco, Derek, and I walked most evenings this week because it was nice outside and we had the opportunity. Rocco likes to stop and draw maps to the pet store in the dirt. Our walks probably consist of a few things that city folks don't have - like rusted old whatchamacallits. 

(Side note: every time I say "city folk" I start singing the farmersonly.com song.)

And twisted old pieces of metal. 

And dust hanging in the air - the result of a passing truck and no wind. 

And gates protecting old farmhouses and arenas grown over with weeds and brush. 

And wild sunflowers growing everywhere. Stopping for a quick sniff is the rule when you're three years old. 

And wide open sunsets. 

And cows. Mooooooo!

I may have to print that last picture on canvas and hang it up in our house. It's moooootyful! Get it? Never mind. 

And a dead calf laying in the ditch that stunk to high heaven. No photo included because, well, it was just nasty. No one wants to see that. I dry heaved for several minutes when I saw it, more because of the stench than the sight, though. It wasn't the worst I've ever smelled (that would have been when Marilyn rolled in the sludge of a dead armadillo; I may tell that story later), but it was bad. Awful. Horrible. I'm gagging a little now just thinking about it. I don't know what happened to that poor little white calf, but he was DRT (dead right there - it's a technical Okie term). You're welcome for not taking a picture of it. Our friendship can remain in tact. 

For the end of the week Rocco, Nana Lana, and I took a little drive to Bixby for some fresh produce and they had pumpkins!

And twisty gourds!

And a gigantic turtle!

And a baby water buffalo!

And the man who I assume is the owner based on his apparent age, knowledge, and because he talked like he'd owned it for a long, long time told us about their free pumpkin patch that opens next weekend. We drove down to the patch so we'd know where it was and we saw this magnificent barn. 

Isn't she beautiful? Beauty-full? I stood outside the fence to admire her and the empty, uncovered silos. I love old barns. LOVE THEM! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE THEM! Did I say that I LOVE them? I usually stop to take pictures when I see one that I think my Aunt Eileen would enjoy sketching. I haven't sent her this picture yet; I want to see if she reads this or not. 😉 

On the way home Rocco fell asleep 15 minutes from home. Boo on that. This necessitated a little backroad driving to let him sleep a little longer. Backroads never disappoint. This is a sign in the neighboring county, about half a mile north of our house. 

Either someone was really po'd at that sign or it has a bad case of teen acne. I'm not sure why there's even a speed limit sign on this road; most of the time it's rutted out and if you drove 40 mph you'd probably lose your transmission. And the traffic is minimal and there are no houses on that road. But, I digress.  

This is a county road about 3 miles from our house. I'm going to venture a guess that it doesn't get a lot of traffic. 

In other news, we have five kittens that will be going to new homes in the next few days. I took them for their first shots this morning and came home and gave them worm-preventer like a pro. I pinned those babies down and shoved that goop down their throats. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite like that, but I did "git-r-done" like a pro. I guess learning how to worm animals when I was little came in handy today. I even managed to get some in the mama kitty - her name is Hocat. That's another story for another day. She didn't like the medicine and thought about throwing a royal fit, but I had the last word of the argument. This is Sam (the only boy), Queenie (short for Queenie Peavy from the book by Robert Burch), Tabby (short for Tabitha), Grayton, and Honey.

They were all conked out until Hocat came back with a dead mouse in her mouth. There was a sixth kitten, Callie (the calico), and she was the sweetest of the bunch, very calm and snuggly, and she had the prettiest little face. She disappeared one day and we don't know if she was attacked by a predator or was stolen. We have been very sad about it and Rocco makes up stories about where he thinks she is and what she's doing. Today he said she was in Tulsa. That little Callie cat gets around, according to him. 

And that's our week in a nutshell. My second college course starts this week and it's a philosophy class - lots of reading and writing - time consuming stuff. Wish me luck!

Late Bloomer

A few weeks ago something HUGE happened in my life; something that I had begun to think would never happen, and then when it did happen, it happened very quickly, literally in a matter of days.

I have started my college career!

After being out of school for 21 years, I finally made the leap!  I took concurrent enrollment my senior year of high school, enrolled for the following fall semester, then made some decisions that lead me to another state 1,400 miles away for the next year, and I left school behind, intending to come back and get my degree a few years down the road.  Well, I did come back to Oklahoma, but the education that I thought was on hold began to slip further and further away.  I applied and was accepted again a couple of years later, but life got in the way and it didn’t happen.  About 5 or 6 years later, online education was becoming more mainstream and widely available, but when I looked into it, the enrollment counselor scared me off because she told me I would have to come up with almost $5,000 per semester that would not qualify for any kind of student aid or loan.  Screw that.  I didn’t have an extra $5,000 laying around for one semester’s worth of knowledge.  At that point, knowing what my schedule was with shift work, I put my education on the back burner, almost resigning myself to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen.  There was no way my schedule would allow for me to attend college on-campus and now it sounded like pursuing it online was also out of reach.

Fast forward 10 or 12 years to July 2016.  I’m now almost 40, married, have a preschooler who attends school 30 minutes away, still working shift work, and now commuting 100 miles every day.  Life is busy, busy, busy.  And I’m exhausted.  I’m more than exhausted.  Is there a term for that?  “Exhaustified,” to borrow from Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.  I still revisited the idea of going back to school over the years, but it just never got off the ground and I couldn’t figure out how to make it work.  But, I’ve never lost the desire to get my education.  I was having a bit of an emotionally rough summer and, like most moms, felt like I’m never a priority for anyone, including myself.  I began evaluating my life and for the first time when I thought about going back to school, I didn’t feel scared.  I felt no hesitation.  This time was different.  I felt energized.  This time felt like it was the right time and working out the cost and financial aid didn’t even faze me.  My dude and I discussed it (he’s wanted me to go to college for years) and I did some research, then requested information from 4 or 5 schools, but felt like I was really drawn to one in particular.  Less than 10 days later I was enrolled and my financial aid was completely squared away.  I was on my way to a college degree!

I’m going to be real honest with you – not having my college degree has made me feel like a failure for my entire adult life.  I’m not saying that if you don’t have one that you’re a failure; not everyone is made for college.  Some people don’t want it, don’t like it, and don’t want to be a part of it.  And that’s absolutely fine; the world takes all kinds of people finding success in different avenues to make it go ‘round.  My Grandpa Homer only had an 8^th grade education and he was one of the smartest, kindest, most resourceful, well respected, and successful people I’ve ever known.  But, when you know in your heart of hearts that you were meant to have a college education and you don’t have one, you feel like a failure.  I've achieved success in other ways, but not earning my degree has felt like a constant stain on my life, a never ending nagging at the back of my mind.  Other people had fully expected me to go to college, too, and I could see the disappointment in their eyes when they found out I hadn’t gone.  I’m not saying you should go to college to please other people, but for me, knowing that I had disappointed some people reinforced my feelings of failure.  But, not anymore!  I am as giddy as a school girl!  See what I did there?  Punny?  Nevermind.  I feel more fulfilled as a human being with a brain than I have felt in, well, I’m not sure, but a very long time!  I’ve been fulfilled by motherhood and marriage and family, but this is different.  This is for me, for my brain, my life, just for me, and it’s been a very long time since I did something that was just for me.  Oh, sure, my family will benefit from me having a college education, but I’m talking about what’s on the inside of me.  I’m talking about deep, personal fulfillment and satisfaction that puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step.  I feel like I’m doing something that I was created to do and it’s so mentally stimulating to be using my brain in an educational setting again and I am having so much fun!  I think my Dad would be proud if he were here, at least I hope he would.  Of course, if he were still alive my life would have probably taken a completely different course and that's a discussion for another day.  I know that the next four years will be busy and exhausting and exciting and intellectually fulfilling, and when it’s all said and done, this late bloomer is going to have her degree and do her best endzone dance!

P.S.  Say a prayer for me!