Just to start things off, I don't have the gift of words that all of our guests this weekend do.
I really just wanted to take an opportunity to thank all of the wonderful folks that took time out of their daily lives to show up in our little town and grace us with their personalities and humor.
To start the weekend off NFO and AEPilot Jim showed up Thursday and worked their coondog butts off helping finish things up before everyone else got there. They pitched right in cleaning brisket and pork shoulder with a little bit of munching thrown in ( which is a prerequisite for cleaning BBQ). Then on Friday they helped FarmDad set the range up. And such a range they put together! The weekend would not have turned out near as well as it did without their help. Thank you so much guys!
Thursday night Christina LMT, Gay Cynic, Labrat and Stingray, Breda and Alan from Snarkybites and Snarky got in.
Christina... Such a warm giving woman! Lady you are magic with your hands. My Physical Therapist says that you have taken probably 4 weeks off of my recovery time! You are a very special individual and let no one ever tell you different.
Gay Cynic... You have a heart of gold and a sense of humor that makes me spit liquid all over my keyboard. ( I'm not telling how many times this weekend I spewed drinks through my nose because of you)
Labrat and Stingray.... You are just adopted! You are now my children and you are stuck with me! I am expecting monthly visits to your poor decrepit nother mother.
Breda.... What a wonderful woman. Such a go to attitude! I loved seeing you on the range. There is nothing you won't try. I admire you immensely!
Alan.... We really didn't get to visit much but I did enjoy what little time we did!
Snarky... I have to admire the way you stepped right up to the plate to try new things.
Saturday brought Ambulance Driver and Miss Katy Beth, and Lawdog and Phlemmy.
Ambulance Driver.... Wow just what can I say. I am sooooo sorry that I missed the Lapdance! I am so sorry about the deer incident but you have to admit that it did make a whiz bang ending to the weekend! Come back soon!
Miss Katy Beth... Such a darling child. Cute as a bugs ear and just as well behaved as anyone could ask for. Her parents should be proud as punch! Especially knowing who her Daddy is!
Lawdog.... He stole my heart right after he showed up. The man gives amazing hugs!
Phlemmy.... A woman with a heart the size of Texas who oozes class from each and every pore! It was such a joy to have you!
Sunday brought in MattG and JPG.
MattG...... such a gentle giant! It has been a long time since I have seen such a gentleman. It was our pleasure to have you in our home!
JPG... It is a little hard to say what I want to say about you since it is on such a personal level but I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the gift you gave me this weekend. Know that you will always be welcome in my home. God Bless you!
I thank each and every one of you for coming. There is so much more that I want to say to each of you but I just can't find the words. I am already looking forward to next year! I have not had this much fun in years!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Ugh
Well my car is toast. I did get the satisfaction of seeing the startlement on the faces of my old stand-by used car dealer/salvage yard owner and his mechanic as they realized that I was still driving the last car that I'd bought off their lot.
(I believe I purchased the car in '02. It's a '98, and it just died now. Not bad.)
Unfortunately, according to Alan, it's not worth dropping an engine in the car. He says it would cost about $1200 to put an engine in and I'd only get $1500 out of the car in trade, maximum.
For three hundred dollars, when I don't actually have the $1200 to lay out right now anyway? Not worth it.
And, I can get that three hundred or so out of it in salvage as it sits. So why bother?
Meanwhile I'm going to have to take a second job to bring my income up to something steady enough that I can get a small loan. Alan will be in Denver himself looking at some pickups next week and he's promised to peruse them with an eye towards what I want, since the one sitting on his lot that met some of my requirements on first glance garnered a stern look and a "You don't want that."
It'll all get worked out. Bro has offered me the use of his little Pontiac until I can get all my ducks in a row on the purchase of the pickup I really needed two years ago, so I'm not on foot.
But still, if I hadn't nearly concussed myself getting in the back seat of the pickup at six this morning, I'd feel like beating my head against the wall. The headache is fairly fierce and it's only compounding my crankiness at various snarky individuals suggesting that I should have checked the oil once in a while.
If only I could win the lottery, I could buy the truck I really want, pay off all of my bills, finish my house, and finance next year's Blogorado all in one fell swoop.
*counting money in pocket*
Then again, I'd have to buy a ticket...
(I believe I purchased the car in '02. It's a '98, and it just died now. Not bad.)
Unfortunately, according to Alan, it's not worth dropping an engine in the car. He says it would cost about $1200 to put an engine in and I'd only get $1500 out of the car in trade, maximum.
For three hundred dollars, when I don't actually have the $1200 to lay out right now anyway? Not worth it.
And, I can get that three hundred or so out of it in salvage as it sits. So why bother?
Meanwhile I'm going to have to take a second job to bring my income up to something steady enough that I can get a small loan. Alan will be in Denver himself looking at some pickups next week and he's promised to peruse them with an eye towards what I want, since the one sitting on his lot that met some of my requirements on first glance garnered a stern look and a "You don't want that."
It'll all get worked out. Bro has offered me the use of his little Pontiac until I can get all my ducks in a row on the purchase of the pickup I really needed two years ago, so I'm not on foot.
But still, if I hadn't nearly concussed myself getting in the back seat of the pickup at six this morning, I'd feel like beating my head against the wall. The headache is fairly fierce and it's only compounding my crankiness at various snarky individuals suggesting that I should have checked the oil once in a while.
If only I could win the lottery, I could buy the truck I really want, pay off all of my bills, finish my house, and finance next year's Blogorado all in one fell swoop.
*counting money in pocket*
Then again, I'd have to buy a ticket...
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Things I'll Always Remember
About this weekend.
First, the meet-in-the-back grin that ChristinaLMT wore every time a gun was put into her hands. I had a blast watching her be instructed by, well, everyone even remotely qualified to instruct that was present on the range. I also giggled my head off at her bouncing around and trying to write down every gun she shot for her later breakdown of events.
Plus, the ass-grabbery. I mean really. My butt got more attention this weekend than it did in my last relationship. Even GayCynic got in on the butt-grab action, although Alan started it. More shocking, however, was goodbyes yesterday at breakfast.
Labrat and Stingray were saying farewell to myself, as I was heading out for an airport run. I got a hug from Mrs. Get Off My Lawn herself, at which point she looked at her stoic spouse. I smarted off that I wasn't going to hug him, because he might shiv me. The next thing I know I'm being wrapped in a bear hug, lifted off my feet, and shook around, and then, just before he set me on my feet, he reached down and patted my ass. "Just because I don't want to be left out."
Another thing I will never forget is the look on Stingray's face as he came thundering up to the gate whilst riding Rebel. LabRat was on Joan, who had finally given up the stubborn bit, and she was loping along behind him, but what captured my attention as I looked up at the sound of thundering hooves (my first thought being "well shit what spooked the horse and can the person riding stay on until he feels like he's far enough away from said scary object?) was the huge grin plastered across Stingray's face as he galloped along. Then the touch of surprise and worry as Rebel continued to thunder along. I hadn't really expected anyone to kick him up that fast or I'd have made sure to mention that Rebel is extremely seat-cue oriented, so if you're going fast and leaning forward... he's gonna keep going, no matter how hard you pull on his mouth. It's a remnant of his rodeo training, because in steer wrestling it's hard to avoid pulling on the horse's mouth as you go off every time.
They got stopped, and Stingray didn't get launched over the gate and the crowd gathered there, so kudos for him for staying in the saddle. Rebel did make the gate ring a bit with his face, but he's fine, horses have hard heads.
Another horse tale: Breda's grin and giggle when Joan decided to come back to the gate at a lope without Breda's encouragement. She did get to go faster than a trot, and she did very well riding it out without much instruction. The horse was rather proud of herself as well, although we'll be having a couple of discussions about how we're supposed to behave when I've been talking up how sweet and kind we are.
There are so many more moments, but those are some of my favorites. Everyone had a blast (FarmFam included) and that was the goal, so I'd say the weekend was a huge success.
Blogorado (ok, yes, I've given up on that one. AEPilotjim has threatened to trademark the thing in my name, I figure once that happens I have to give up on it) will remain an invitation-only event, if only because our little town can't handle a truly large influx of people, but it looks like we're doing it again next year.
Probably a little earlier in the year, though. We lucked out this year on the weather for the weekend, but if we move it up to the late August/early September range we can pretty well count on it being Hot and Dry.
The FarmFam will start discussing actual plans once we recover from the awesome.
First, the meet-in-the-back grin that ChristinaLMT wore every time a gun was put into her hands. I had a blast watching her be instructed by, well, everyone even remotely qualified to instruct that was present on the range. I also giggled my head off at her bouncing around and trying to write down every gun she shot for her later breakdown of events.
Plus, the ass-grabbery. I mean really. My butt got more attention this weekend than it did in my last relationship. Even GayCynic got in on the butt-grab action, although Alan started it. More shocking, however, was goodbyes yesterday at breakfast.
Labrat and Stingray were saying farewell to myself, as I was heading out for an airport run. I got a hug from Mrs. Get Off My Lawn herself, at which point she looked at her stoic spouse. I smarted off that I wasn't going to hug him, because he might shiv me. The next thing I know I'm being wrapped in a bear hug, lifted off my feet, and shook around, and then, just before he set me on my feet, he reached down and patted my ass. "Just because I don't want to be left out."
Another thing I will never forget is the look on Stingray's face as he came thundering up to the gate whilst riding Rebel. LabRat was on Joan, who had finally given up the stubborn bit, and she was loping along behind him, but what captured my attention as I looked up at the sound of thundering hooves (my first thought being "well shit what spooked the horse and can the person riding stay on until he feels like he's far enough away from said scary object?) was the huge grin plastered across Stingray's face as he galloped along. Then the touch of surprise and worry as Rebel continued to thunder along. I hadn't really expected anyone to kick him up that fast or I'd have made sure to mention that Rebel is extremely seat-cue oriented, so if you're going fast and leaning forward... he's gonna keep going, no matter how hard you pull on his mouth. It's a remnant of his rodeo training, because in steer wrestling it's hard to avoid pulling on the horse's mouth as you go off every time.
They got stopped, and Stingray didn't get launched over the gate and the crowd gathered there, so kudos for him for staying in the saddle. Rebel did make the gate ring a bit with his face, but he's fine, horses have hard heads.
Another horse tale: Breda's grin and giggle when Joan decided to come back to the gate at a lope without Breda's encouragement. She did get to go faster than a trot, and she did very well riding it out without much instruction. The horse was rather proud of herself as well, although we'll be having a couple of discussions about how we're supposed to behave when I've been talking up how sweet and kind we are.
There are so many more moments, but those are some of my favorites. Everyone had a blast (FarmFam included) and that was the goal, so I'd say the weekend was a huge success.
Blogorado (ok, yes, I've given up on that one. AEPilotjim has threatened to trademark the thing in my name, I figure once that happens I have to give up on it) will remain an invitation-only event, if only because our little town can't handle a truly large influx of people, but it looks like we're doing it again next year.
Probably a little earlier in the year, though. We lucked out this year on the weather for the weekend, but if we move it up to the late August/early September range we can pretty well count on it being Hot and Dry.
The FarmFam will start discussing actual plans once we recover from the awesome.
Monday, November 9, 2009
When Life Hands You Lemons...
Sometimes you just have to grab the tequila and improvise a Sunrise.
Tooling along today on the way home from taking Snarky to the airport, I was feeling kind of groggy, because frankly, it's been a HUGE weekend, and all the excitement has me plumb wore out. So, being the self sufficient type I am, I cranked up the tunes and cardanced until I felt a little more pumped up.
Left the tunes cranked because I was enjoying them, until suddenly, whilst going up a hill, I realized that I was actually slowing down with the cruise control set.
Uh oh.
Turned off the cruise first, and then the radio, to hear the dreaded indistinct knocking sound coming from the general direction of the engine.
Crap.
I limped it into the next town because, let's face it, while I'm perfectly capable of walking ten miles, that doesn't mean it's particularly pleasant or that there will be any place open by the time I get there to get any oil or other miracle "hmm try this" bits suggested by folks who are just trying to be helpful.
It's not their fault I'm an hour from home with guests still at the house and dinner gonna be a-waitin. One shouldn't growl at those who are trying to be helpful, no matter how dim-witted the suggestions, nor how dim-witted they insinuate I am. (Yes, I did check the oil when I stopped. No, I don't carry a case of oil in my trunk "just in case." Why? Because that space is taken up with emergency power steering fluid because the hose clamp going from my power steering pump has been known to sink into deep depression and commit suicide at odd moments, leaving me on the side of the road in a situation where a skinny girl, a spare hose clamp, and some power steering fluid will save the day. But I digress.)
Got into the next town, shut her down, popped the hood, and checked the oil.
Dry.
Shit.
Ran across the street to the obligatory small-town stock feed/vet meds/tire repair/bbq shack and grabbed three quarts of the cheapest oil they had (having the lump sum of twelve dollars in my pocket at the time) and poured em in. Started the car back up in the hopes that nothing had been severely damaged and a little oil would let me gently limp it on home rather than leaving the car parked an hour away and having to get the car trailer up there.
No dice.
Crap.
Called mom back, since I'd called her when the problem became so obvious that even I couldn't ignore it with the message "You may have to come get me."
Knowing me and my luck, she had already started my way and my wait time was shortened thereby. Thank you, Farmmom, for being well aware of your daughter's ability to screw up mechanical objects.
Right now status is: car isn't driving anywhere but onto the trailer until a real mechanic looks at it, but I'm pretty sure he's gonna tell me the engine is toast, or repairs would be expensive enough that it might as well be toast.
Tomorrow, once we get MattG and JPG on the road home, and AD up and rolling from his close encounter of the deer kind, after having finally located a radiator for his truck, I'll start looking for a cheap engine to drop in the car just in case.
If you're wondering what the Sunrise part of this story is, it's this: I finally have an excuse too good to ignore to go find myself a truck. Just as soon as I sell a couple of horses. And maybe trade Farmmom the progeny of my cows for the next few years for cash.
Possibly after I stand myself on a corner in clinging jeans with a sign saying "Butt Grabs: $10"
After the attention my ass got at the blogmeet, I figure that there ought to raise enough to get myself a nice new-ish Dodge Ram 3500.
And if AEPilot Jim starts selling copies of the pictures of my butt, he'd better remember I get 75% of the profits and the other 25% go to Farmmom for giving me the genes (and oftentimes, the jeans) that went into making the butt.
Tooling along today on the way home from taking Snarky to the airport, I was feeling kind of groggy, because frankly, it's been a HUGE weekend, and all the excitement has me plumb wore out. So, being the self sufficient type I am, I cranked up the tunes and cardanced until I felt a little more pumped up.
Left the tunes cranked because I was enjoying them, until suddenly, whilst going up a hill, I realized that I was actually slowing down with the cruise control set.
Uh oh.
Turned off the cruise first, and then the radio, to hear the dreaded indistinct knocking sound coming from the general direction of the engine.
Crap.
I limped it into the next town because, let's face it, while I'm perfectly capable of walking ten miles, that doesn't mean it's particularly pleasant or that there will be any place open by the time I get there to get any oil or other miracle "hmm try this" bits suggested by folks who are just trying to be helpful.
It's not their fault I'm an hour from home with guests still at the house and dinner gonna be a-waitin. One shouldn't growl at those who are trying to be helpful, no matter how dim-witted the suggestions, nor how dim-witted they insinuate I am. (Yes, I did check the oil when I stopped. No, I don't carry a case of oil in my trunk "just in case." Why? Because that space is taken up with emergency power steering fluid because the hose clamp going from my power steering pump has been known to sink into deep depression and commit suicide at odd moments, leaving me on the side of the road in a situation where a skinny girl, a spare hose clamp, and some power steering fluid will save the day. But I digress.)
Got into the next town, shut her down, popped the hood, and checked the oil.
Dry.
Shit.
Ran across the street to the obligatory small-town stock feed/vet meds/tire repair/bbq shack and grabbed three quarts of the cheapest oil they had (having the lump sum of twelve dollars in my pocket at the time) and poured em in. Started the car back up in the hopes that nothing had been severely damaged and a little oil would let me gently limp it on home rather than leaving the car parked an hour away and having to get the car trailer up there.
No dice.
Crap.
Called mom back, since I'd called her when the problem became so obvious that even I couldn't ignore it with the message "You may have to come get me."
Knowing me and my luck, she had already started my way and my wait time was shortened thereby. Thank you, Farmmom, for being well aware of your daughter's ability to screw up mechanical objects.
Right now status is: car isn't driving anywhere but onto the trailer until a real mechanic looks at it, but I'm pretty sure he's gonna tell me the engine is toast, or repairs would be expensive enough that it might as well be toast.
Tomorrow, once we get MattG and JPG on the road home, and AD up and rolling from his close encounter of the deer kind, after having finally located a radiator for his truck, I'll start looking for a cheap engine to drop in the car just in case.
If you're wondering what the Sunrise part of this story is, it's this: I finally have an excuse too good to ignore to go find myself a truck. Just as soon as I sell a couple of horses. And maybe trade Farmmom the progeny of my cows for the next few years for cash.
Possibly after I stand myself on a corner in clinging jeans with a sign saying "Butt Grabs: $10"
After the attention my ass got at the blogmeet, I figure that there ought to raise enough to get myself a nice new-ish Dodge Ram 3500.
And if AEPilot Jim starts selling copies of the pictures of my butt, he'd better remember I get 75% of the profits and the other 25% go to Farmmom for giving me the genes (and oftentimes, the jeans) that went into making the butt.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Whew!
Well, yesterday we had a fantastic day, riding horses and enjoying the countryside.
Breda did GREAT in spite of being thrown the horse that decided to be stubborn... as a reward tomorrow she gets to ride Rebel who will give her a much more enjoyable ride.
Christina and GayCynic enjoyed themselves thoroughly, if they're to be believed (and I do believe them)
LabRat and Stingray got in on the horseback action as well, with Stingray demonstrating what I'm told his is favorite part of being on anything.... the go-fast.
Even if he didn't quite have the brakes all figured out yet.
Today we shot all afternoon (ok, I shot my camera and watched munchkins, but I was still grinning ear to ear) and tonight: Chicken Fried Steaks. Om Nom.
Also, Christina will be giving Farmmom her massage, and then myself. Because she rocks like that.
AEPilotJim is getting plenty of pictures of peoples butts, and will undoubtedly post them as he has time. He'd have posted some from the range I'm sure but early on in the play he discovered that his iPhone had no service....
The wail could apparently be heard for miles.
All for now, must go help with dinner and then get some of that dinner in me.
Breda did GREAT in spite of being thrown the horse that decided to be stubborn... as a reward tomorrow she gets to ride Rebel who will give her a much more enjoyable ride.
Christina and GayCynic enjoyed themselves thoroughly, if they're to be believed (and I do believe them)
LabRat and Stingray got in on the horseback action as well, with Stingray demonstrating what I'm told his is favorite part of being on anything.... the go-fast.
Even if he didn't quite have the brakes all figured out yet.
Today we shot all afternoon (ok, I shot my camera and watched munchkins, but I was still grinning ear to ear) and tonight: Chicken Fried Steaks. Om Nom.
Also, Christina will be giving Farmmom her massage, and then myself. Because she rocks like that.
AEPilotJim is getting plenty of pictures of peoples butts, and will undoubtedly post them as he has time. He'd have posted some from the range I'm sure but early on in the play he discovered that his iPhone had no service....
The wail could apparently be heard for miles.
All for now, must go help with dinner and then get some of that dinner in me.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Blogmeet
Well, last night went well, as people rolled into town. First was AEPilotjim and OldNFO (and I'll come back and add links later when I have more leisure time, I swear guys) who were drafted into service but were paid well for their work carving up the BBQ by snitching some. Then it was myself, returning from the big city with Snarky in tow. We didn't get drafted but we did get food.
After that, Alan, Breda, and The Nerds showed up in all their splendor. Of course the arrival of The Nerds occasioned the unloading of a lot of beer into the garage... some of it may even be left tonight when we get back from the day's activities.
Then Christina and her guest showed up (I'm not sure if Sooper Secret Guest is still supposed to be a secret or not, so I won't let the cat out of the bag.)
Breda got her swag bag from Jim, everyone had a bit of nosh and beer, and there was much to do about iPhone. And a lot of laughter.
I'm about to go start loading gear for the day's activities, so that all will be ready before folks start showing up. Then it's off to be embarrassed as Breda peruses our pitiful excuse for a library. More later!
After that, Alan, Breda, and The Nerds showed up in all their splendor. Of course the arrival of The Nerds occasioned the unloading of a lot of beer into the garage... some of it may even be left tonight when we get back from the day's activities.
Then Christina and her guest showed up (I'm not sure if Sooper Secret Guest is still supposed to be a secret or not, so I won't let the cat out of the bag.)
Breda got her swag bag from Jim, everyone had a bit of nosh and beer, and there was much to do about iPhone. And a lot of laughter.
I'm about to go start loading gear for the day's activities, so that all will be ready before folks start showing up. Then it's off to be embarrassed as Breda peruses our pitiful excuse for a library. More later!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Blogowhato?
As some of you may have noticed on some prominent blogs there's something a-brewin in the wilds of Colorado.
Most, if not all, of the attendees are calling it Blogorado, a name not officially endorsed by myself or any of the Farm Fam. (Hush, all of you, I told you we're not endorsing it! Who's captaining this ship anyway??*)
Anyway, I've mentioned it in passing over the last little bit but now that it's actually happening I guess I feel more comfortable in coming right out and saying it: my little town will be overrun by bloggers, gunnies, gunbloggers, and, quite likely, large amounts of alcohol.
With a remote pasture and the instruction to bring whatever they would like to shoot, shoot at, or otherwise destroy, along with a few riding lessons and enough snark to drown an elephant, I'm sure we'll find some way to pass the weekend.
Plus, the attendees, who were carefully chosen, screened, and vetted by yours truly (not really) will be getting a singular treat in Farmmom's cooking. My beloved mother has busted her butt to provide a veritable feast for every night we'll have visitors, with peripheral help from myself, Farmdad, and Mamaw.**
I'm sure folks will be dropping notes whilst they're here, and I'll try to get up a few posts of my own, but frankly I'm so excited about seeing folks I've met before and meeting new folks that I don't know how often I'll be able to actually sit down at the computer. Besides, I'll have to keep up the charade that I'm actually a hostess capable of pulling something like this off. Which I never would be able to do without the full cooperation and assistance of my loving family.
Who are doing this all for me, and not at all because they're serious fans of some of the lovely folks that will be attending. At least that's what they tell me. Even when I accuse them otherwise.
I expect I'll spend the first night re-assuring people that we do indeed have such a thing as internet here, even if the county has barely heard of a wi-fi hotspot. And I'll spend Saturday laughing at certain bloggers as they go into iPhone withdrawals. I don't care what network you're on, where we'll be shooting, connectivity is nil.
Not to mention the shooting and tasting home-brewed beers and the story telling and discussions and and and.... Oh crap I still have to do laundry!
*Farmmom is, of course, captaining this ship. Who did you think I meant?
**Mamaw has actually helped more than either Farmdad or I so far, although Farmdad is, as usual, in charge of the industrial smoker for Friday night's bbq. Still, I think at least half of the folks coming are only after Farmmom's chicken fried steaks.
Most, if not all, of the attendees are calling it Blogorado, a name not officially endorsed by myself or any of the Farm Fam. (Hush, all of you, I told you we're not endorsing it! Who's captaining this ship anyway??*)
Anyway, I've mentioned it in passing over the last little bit but now that it's actually happening I guess I feel more comfortable in coming right out and saying it: my little town will be overrun by bloggers, gunnies, gunbloggers, and, quite likely, large amounts of alcohol.
With a remote pasture and the instruction to bring whatever they would like to shoot, shoot at, or otherwise destroy, along with a few riding lessons and enough snark to drown an elephant, I'm sure we'll find some way to pass the weekend.
Plus, the attendees, who were carefully chosen, screened, and vetted by yours truly (not really) will be getting a singular treat in Farmmom's cooking. My beloved mother has busted her butt to provide a veritable feast for every night we'll have visitors, with peripheral help from myself, Farmdad, and Mamaw.**
I'm sure folks will be dropping notes whilst they're here, and I'll try to get up a few posts of my own, but frankly I'm so excited about seeing folks I've met before and meeting new folks that I don't know how often I'll be able to actually sit down at the computer. Besides, I'll have to keep up the charade that I'm actually a hostess capable of pulling something like this off. Which I never would be able to do without the full cooperation and assistance of my loving family.
Who are doing this all for me, and not at all because they're serious fans of some of the lovely folks that will be attending. At least that's what they tell me. Even when I accuse them otherwise.
I expect I'll spend the first night re-assuring people that we do indeed have such a thing as internet here, even if the county has barely heard of a wi-fi hotspot. And I'll spend Saturday laughing at certain bloggers as they go into iPhone withdrawals. I don't care what network you're on, where we'll be shooting, connectivity is nil.
Not to mention the shooting and tasting home-brewed beers and the story telling and discussions and and and.... Oh crap I still have to do laundry!
*Farmmom is, of course, captaining this ship. Who did you think I meant?
**Mamaw has actually helped more than either Farmdad or I so far, although Farmdad is, as usual, in charge of the industrial smoker for Friday night's bbq. Still, I think at least half of the folks coming are only after Farmmom's chicken fried steaks.
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