It's been so long since I've really blogged about anything that I actually feel a little rusty. Or maybe it's the fact that there are so many ideas in the pipes they feel a little clogged.
Since my sister's wedding, we haven't had a minute of extra time. And it's been good. We've had good weeks at the clinic, I've been swamped with work for school, we've been invited out quite a bit, and every other moment we've been doing stuff with the girls.
One of Jethro's patients is a VP at Sea World and gave us tickets two Saturdays ago. We got there at 8:30 in the morning and for a house full of night owls, that was really really really early.
But we were the first ones there and considering there were 30,000 people at the park that day and we stayed until 6:00pm, we did a lot.
I got sunburned in patches and had to buy a new pair of shorts because my pants got wet on one of the rides. It was the weirdest thing. I was dry everywhere but my crotch. It was as if the waterfall had one singular intention. Yeast infection.
You'd think we'd have been exhausted by the time 6:00 rolled around, and you'd be right. But my sister called and said she, her new husband, and his family who were still visiting from the UK were going to a rodeo a few miles outside of New Town, and asked if we wanted to go too. Since we were already in the car, we thought, "why not?"
I'm so glad we did. It was probably the most fun I've ever had. It was especially fun to watch it with the Brits. The bull-riding is usually pretty exciting, and their stoic faces actually grimaced a couple of times. I think they enjoyed it.
I was kind of in heaven. Cowboys, beer, cowboys, more beer, a pretty lame band, beer...
And I found out the type of girls Jethro goes for. I was always under the impression that it was the cheerleader types. And that was close, but not quite. He likes country girls. The girl who was taking our money at the entrance was prettier than a speckled pup. Cowgirl-Angel-on-the-Christmas-tree kind of pretty. I took note, as I usually do when I see someone or something beautiful, and then noticed Jethro's voice as he handed her his money. Everything suddenly made sense.
I called him on it (naturally) and he grinned sheepishly. "The FFA was really really big where I grew up," was all he would say on the subject.
Anyway, we had so much fun that my sister and her new husband brought their Scottish Friend up this past Saturday and we all went again. There were also a whole bunch of kids from Wisconsin on their band trip. They didn't know how to do the Cotton Eye Joe which baffled, confused and mildly upset the natives who had to inform them about hollering "Bullshit" which baffled, confused and mildly upset the Wisconsonites. But it was still fun.
I guess the bulls had their balls wrapped a little tighter this time, because they were a little more pissed off than last time. One clown was tossed straight into the air and did a few cartwheels before landing on his face. I felt we'd gotten our money's worth on that one.
And it seems that Gwennie at least has not inherited her mother's weakness for cowboys. No. She digs the rodeo clowns. One of them took down his overalls to moon a bull with his red underdrawers. Everyone was chuckling while he was putting his pants back on except Gwennie who screamed, "TAKE 'EM OFF!!!" to my consternation.
Gwennie and Emma both did the calf scramble. Neither of them have any sense of strategy.
Emma also rode the mechanical bull with her little arm way up in the air. Everyone watching just melted. It was so cute to see her do it because she is usually way too shy to be the center of attention like that.
Jethro, New Husband, and Scottish Friend also rode the mechanical bull with hilarious consequences. But I'll let Jethro tell that one.
Anyway, that doesn't even begin to cover our week, but it's a start.