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!
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