Assortment

There's Just Somethin' 'bout Those Cowboys

 

A red-shirted, black-hatted little cowboy pulled up to my lunch table the other day.

I thought about reminding him of the manners guideline that says something about cowboys removing their hats at the table.

I thought about it.  But, I didn't.

 

'Cause he was a carrot-eatin' cowboy.  And I've heard those are rare.

 

And 'cause he turned and looked at me!  

I was a gonner.  A complete melt-me-right-into-a-puddle gonner!

He can wear his cowboy hat at my table anytime! 

(Someone else will have to teach him manners.)

Float

 

The sunshine, the wind, the water, our little boat- they were all calling to us. 

 

They didn't have to wait long, we were ready in an hour, ready to explore waters we'd never seen.  With everyone aboard and in his place, off we went.  Holding on with one hand, and we snacked on popcorn with the other.

 

Then, Look!  There's a porpoise!  Right there! 

 

These excited boys began drum, drum, drumming on the side of the boat to get it to come back.  They knew that's what you were supposed to do.  They read it in a book once. 

 

Maybe it was the drumming, maybe he was just a friendly, curious dolphin, but we did keep seeing him.  Really, we did.  He was there in the middle of this shot just seconds before the shutter opened.  Bah!

 

Oh, there he was again!  Or not.  Bummer!

   

Oh, well.  I can get good shots of boys waving at passing sailboats.  They go much slower! 

 

All of a sudden, it seemed, we came upon a tangle of boats, birds, and rollicking waves.

 

They were everywhere! 

 

All because of this floating hot dog stand doing somehoppin' business right there, anchored next to the channel.  Well, waddya know.

   

Ready to leave the noise behind, we cut the motor, pulled the prop out of the water, and paddled down The Narrows.  So peaceful.  So quiet.

   

We felt so explorer-like, not knowing what was around the next bend.

 

 

Evening came, dusk fell.  Motoring back to the launch, feeling tired, wind-blown and refreshed, there was just enough light left to capture a wading crane.

Yes!

A Sticky Solution

   

I think this is gonna work!   

Those three bottles up there may well be the answer to the syrup-overuse predicament that has come to be a sticky situation (ahem) around our breakfast table at times.

It's alot to ask of three boys, I know, to take care and not use too much syrup on their waffles.  I mean, if I was boy, I'd probably want to carefully fill every divet in my waffle with real maple syrup, too.  (And then some.)  (And only when I was a boy would I have time to fill every divet in my waffle with syrup.)

But, unfortunately for those boys, I'm the mama, and I begin to have heart palpitations when I see what looks more like syrup waffle soup on their plates.  'Cause the good stuff costs about 18 smackers for 32 ounces!  Whoa there, fellas!

I've tried having them measure their syrup out with a spoon, I've tried giving them each a pre-poured (by me) pitcher of syrup, but nothing seemed to work until Cracker Barrel.  Until Cracker Barrel's mini syrup bottles, that is. 

These guys were taken with them the minute our waiter plunked two down beside every boy's plate at their Cracker Barrel breakfast debut a few weeks ago.  They couldn't believe they got to use as much as they wanted out of their bottles, without fear of their mama frettin' across the table.  And, (this is the part that nearly pushed me right out of my chair), they didn't use nearly the amount of syrup that they normally do.  Craziest thing. 

So, you can bet your bottom dollar that I swiped those remaining three syrup bottles from our table when we were finished, and carted them home like I'd found some sort of treasure. 

I'll happily refill  them over 'n over if it means that a bottle of syrup will last us for more than three breakfasts.

Carry on, boys.