Warning: There are a lot of pictures. I'm not kidding. A LOT. And there are cows. And strangely dressed children. And one victim of a hunting excursion. Be forewarned. I'm not listening to any whining.
The best thing about the cabin is that there's literally NO ONE AROUND. No people, that is. There are lots of cows. And deer. And cranes (minus one). And various other wildlife. You can imagine my moue of distaste on my face. But this weekend was fun. It was just the four of us. Well, six if you count the dogs. And we do.
The house is actually in Carey, TX, if you want to get technical. Nolan pulled over to assure cell service, and we were right by the town limit sign, so... photo op. And, yes, I know, it isn't spelled correctly, but still.
Still floors me that the ten year-old can drive. And well. He only drives the Mule on the property, but still. He's awesome.
This one's awesome, too.
We filled feeders. And we pulled weeds around the feeders, which is hard work, let me tell you. It burned like, a bazillion calories.
To his credit, Nolan tried to get the weed eater to work.
It didn't. But he's cute when he's frustrated.
I think he's cute, period.
You know what isn't cute? When you can see into someone's mouth in a picture. And when that someone is wearing a toboggan over a baseball hat to keep her ears warm.
These are the great white hunters, looking up at the encroaching flock of sandhill cranes threatening the safety of the house.
Because you know how dangerous cranes are. They're asses, most of them. They backtalk their mothers and cheat on their wives.
They're also called "The ribeye in the sky."
Ignore the strangely dressed youth. And the deceased bird.
The ribeye in the sky. *snort*
As opposed to the ribeye on the ground.
Well, future ribeye. He's so CUTE, though. Freaking adorable.
Speaking of funny, a brunette a blonde and a redhead walk into a bar...
Abs had a great time.
She didn't know what to make of the cows.
She did know when to come back when they charged her, though.
I had kids to protect me. It was quite a dance, between me and the cows. I wanted to take a picture of them, but didn't want to get close. Not too close, anyway. And the cows didn't want me close, either. One made an unwelcoming noise in my direction.
Aaron said, "Don't moo at my mom! Do that again and you'll be sorry!"
The cow visibly shuddered. My hand to god.
I mean, who WOULDN'T be afraid?
My favorite cow is that little red one in the front. Isn't he CUTE? I call him Number 32. I don't want to get too attached because... well, it's a cattle ranch, and they don't raise them for their scintillating conversation.
Katie, though, tried to eat Number 32 whole, for getting too close to me.
The result was a mini stampede, which I didn't get a picture of because I was too busy hyperventilating over the impending death of my dog.
She should have been a ranch dog.
She isn't, though. She's a couch dog.
And a lap dog who gets to ride in the mule because she gets stickers in her delicate, city dog paws.
And when Katie was busy elsewhere, they boys took care of the cows. If you eat a steak next year that tastes stressed out, it will have come from this crowd.
This one, though. THIS ONE.
I don't know what I'm gonna do with this one.
I need to see about what I can do to keep him from growing up and leaving home.
This one, too.
Parenting is a gradual letting go. I don't wanna.
I mean, who'll entertain me when they're gone?
Nolan will. He'll entertain me. If only by proclaiming that "Learning by doing," is better than reading the directions.
I mean, it isn't as entertaining as Aaron NOT WEARING A SHIRT under his hoodie, but it'll do.
All in all, it was a good weekend.
We all needed a little down time, and we were grateful to get it.
And I showed restraint by only posting HALF the pictures. The other half got lost in my second crappy camera. I think I'll buy a new one with my birthday money. Then I can inflict GOOD cow pictures on you, and not the slightly blurry ones.