We spent Sunday the 3rd with the in-laws in Westville, OK--almost in Arkansas, which meant clear creeks and clean air.
Jason's wife Jessie grew up here, and her mom and dad are great folks.
We had the usual all-American fare--hamburgers, hot-dogs, bbq beans, corn on the cob, six-point beer, no apple pie (which is ok by me) and brownies! Plus, to add a degree of sophistication to the gala, pork tenderloin and gourmet mashed potatoes.
Jason did all of the grilling, and I give him an A+
Bob took it easy, as did I. Jessie and Casey tended to getting things ready, and not soon enough, the dinner call was sounded. (Read that: I was HUNGRY!) I had a burger, a dog, some BBQ, BBQ beans, potatoes, 4 ears of corn, several brownies, strawberry cake, ice cream,but I took no prize. Casey's husband Danny ate 4 burgers and all the sides and trimmings. I don't know where he put it.
After we ate, I strolled around on my sore tootsies and took pictures. I felt the lure of the land, the comfort of living in the country where the only sounds of hustle and bustle is an occasional passing freight train.
Old structures were here and there, each with an old story to tell, standing for decades and still useful. This shed made from trees that outdate me many times over used old log cabin chinking techniques to seal the rain out. Sheds at Home Depot cannot stand with this one.
Somehow the same sun that sets on Tulsa looks different here. Gone was the late afternoon haze from the exhaust of 50,000 rush hour cars. It was just the sun, blue sky and clouds.
A spirit of carefree was about. Makenna felt it. I did too.
To the north, a thunderhead was building. As the evening developed, lightening flashed in the distance--natures own fireworks display. Farm equipment parked in the field seemed framed by the landscape it serviced, seeming like art to one searching for what could be captured on film.
Bob and Carol live south of Westville and about a mile west of the main highway on an old country road--one where if you see a car coming by, they are either coming to your house, or at least it's someone you know.
The rolling hills and lush trees lent to several sunset-ish pictures, which of course I like.
I headed out on the back of their farm to walk a bit, being warned to look out for the bull. I did keep a cautious eye out, knowing that I could not outrun a frisky bull with fresh feet let alone sore feet like mine. This look to the east and the distant hills seemed to beckon me to explore. Another time, perhaps.
A gravel road led from one field to another. This also looked like the beginnings of a good run.
Another picture of my road and the hills beyond.
Another picture I like to take is one of roads or in this case fences that seem to go on forever.
And another sun peeking through the trees at me pondering the virtues of barbed wire.
The next event on the evenings agenda was a swim in a nearby creek--the Baron Fork. The swimming hole was a short ride in the back of a pickup away, and was a timeless oasis, clean unlittered, and hosting friends and relatives for years upon years.
Two labs met us and I was warned to not throw sticks unless I wanted to throw them all night. Of course, I threw the stick--waaaay out into the water, and they leaped in delight over and over again living up to their "retriever" classification. They entertained me for nearly an hour.
The Baron Fork eventually runs into the Illinois River, and is every bit as scenic as eastern Oklahoma's float trip paradise.
Upon returning to the house for fireworks, a storm was building off to the west. I took several shots, and these are the two best ones.
None of my fireworks pictures turned out, but we had fun watching the boys shoot them off. We returned home, and slept late Monday morning. I have wondered to myself--could I live away from the city like that--where every day goings on were what was right outside my door? I do see the appeal.
Jason's wife Jessie grew up here, and her mom and dad are great folks.
We had the usual all-American fare--hamburgers, hot-dogs, bbq beans, corn on the cob, six-point beer, no apple pie (which is ok by me) and brownies! Plus, to add a degree of sophistication to the gala, pork tenderloin and gourmet mashed potatoes.Jason did all of the grilling, and I give him an A+
Bob took it easy, as did I. Jessie and Casey tended to getting things ready, and not soon enough, the dinner call was sounded. (Read that: I was HUNGRY!) I had a burger, a dog, some BBQ, BBQ beans, potatoes, 4 ears of corn, several brownies, strawberry cake, ice cream,but I took no prize. Casey's husband Danny ate 4 burgers and all the sides and trimmings. I don't know where he put it.After we ate, I strolled around on my sore tootsies and took pictures. I felt the lure of the land, the comfort of living in the country where the only sounds of hustle and bustle is an occasional passing freight train.
Old structures were here and there, each with an old story to tell, standing for decades and still useful. This shed made from trees that outdate me many times over used old log cabin chinking techniques to seal the rain out. Sheds at Home Depot cannot stand with this one.
Somehow the same sun that sets on Tulsa looks different here. Gone was the late afternoon haze from the exhaust of 50,000 rush hour cars. It was just the sun, blue sky and clouds.
A spirit of carefree was about. Makenna felt it. I did too.
To the north, a thunderhead was building. As the evening developed, lightening flashed in the distance--natures own fireworks display. Farm equipment parked in the field seemed framed by the landscape it serviced, seeming like art to one searching for what could be captured on film.
Bob and Carol live south of Westville and about a mile west of the main highway on an old country road--one where if you see a car coming by, they are either coming to your house, or at least it's someone you know.
The rolling hills and lush trees lent to several sunset-ish pictures, which of course I like.
I headed out on the back of their farm to walk a bit, being warned to look out for the bull. I did keep a cautious eye out, knowing that I could not outrun a frisky bull with fresh feet let alone sore feet like mine. This look to the east and the distant hills seemed to beckon me to explore. Another time, perhaps.
A gravel road led from one field to another. This also looked like the beginnings of a good run.
Another picture of my road and the hills beyond.
Another picture I like to take is one of roads or in this case fences that seem to go on forever.
And another sun peeking through the trees at me pondering the virtues of barbed wire.
The next event on the evenings agenda was a swim in a nearby creek--the Baron Fork. The swimming hole was a short ride in the back of a pickup away, and was a timeless oasis, clean unlittered, and hosting friends and relatives for years upon years.
Two labs met us and I was warned to not throw sticks unless I wanted to throw them all night. Of course, I threw the stick--waaaay out into the water, and they leaped in delight over and over again living up to their "retriever" classification. They entertained me for nearly an hour.
The Baron Fork eventually runs into the Illinois River, and is every bit as scenic as eastern Oklahoma's float trip paradise.
Upon returning to the house for fireworks, a storm was building off to the west. I took several shots, and these are the two best ones.
None of my fireworks pictures turned out, but we had fun watching the boys shoot them off. We returned home, and slept late Monday morning. I have wondered to myself--could I live away from the city like that--where every day goings on were what was right outside my door? I do see the appeal.
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