(Before I start, I apologize for not blogging later with Ranchwife, as I promised. Seems that when cows are calving, horses are recovering and children need to be fed, cooperative blogging falls by the wayside.)
As I've mentioned, we (MSP, EP and I) hit the road last week. As if her life isn't complicated enough, Ranchwife has offered to provide short-term "cultural exchanges" on her ranch for children of her homeschooling friends. Kind of "Ranchwife's Ranch Camp." The kids work hard for her and the Rancher; maintaining irrigation, riding after cattle, and babysitting the Cowgirls. EP spent three weeks there two summers ago, and wanted to go again. MSP wanted to give it a try. Although that would leave John and I childless for a little while, we decided to make that sacrifice and let them have their cultural exchange.
So, I hit the road to deliver them. Now, in an odd coincidence, Ranchwife and I live on the same state road, which traverses the country from East to West Coast, in two different states. And, as if that isn't enough of a coincidence, a third friend, Chocolot, also lives on this road. And, to make the coincidence almost scary, each of us lives 5-6 miles off of this very same road in our respective states. As Chocolot is about 8 hours from me, and about 9 hours from Ranchwife, it made for a perfect stopping point the first night of our trip. So, below, EP, MSP, and Chocolot's kids.
And, below, Chocolot and me.
(I'd like to say I'm the slender one on the right. But that would be lying. I'd like to say that my "puffiness" comes from staying up late the night before, eating organic chocolate and drinking organic beer. But that, too, would be partly lying.)
After a steak dinner (Chocolot and her husband raise grass-fed beef, as do the Rancher and Ranchwife. We ate healthy this week!) and a hearty strata breakfast, we hit the road again.
The trip traversed the states of Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and Wyoming. Which means the view out the front window looked a lot like this much of the time.
Iowa and Nebraska are like that. Sorry, Iowans and Nebraskans, but you know it's true. At least Nebraska has the Sand Hills.
But, in the end, we arrived safely. I spent three days sharing company with Ranchwife and reveling in the gorgeousness (is that a word?) which is her "backyard."
After seeing that, would you think I was nuts to be sad that I was leaving Ranchwife's cooking and cleaning to go home to my husband?
Well, not TOO sad.