I noticed your machetes...

A few weeks back we headed out camping with a few of our closest friends.  We took off to Ray Roberts Lake, about an hour north of where we live.

Okay, so it ended up being more than a few friends.  In fact, the park ranger wasn't too excited about us when he made us all sit down to make sure we weren't going to attack him with our "machetes."  (They were actually hatchets from Walmart to cut firewood).  And that's when I thought, "Yeah... a group of married Mormons who don't drink or smoke and who brought small children with them on their overnight camping trip... good one..."  But anyway... 

We made some foil dinners (of course).

And toasted everything we had around including starburst.  Yum!

We stayed up until two or so talking.  The great outdoors turn good talk into great talk.  Especially when you're eating awesome camping food.

Nobody ever claimed we were normal...

Lone Star Park

Last week some of our best friends, the Mallory's moved away to Washington.  Before they took off we went on one last outing.  We headed to Lone Star Park in Grand Prairie.  

The races are every twenty minutes or so.  Everybody sits around, eats food, and bets on horses in between.  You pick Win, Place or Show (1st, 2nd or 3rd).  If the horse places where you picked or higher, then you win.  

It was a fun, laid back atmosphere.  And then when the race began, everyone would stand up and watch.  The races were all short that day; only 400 feet or so (or 400 yards?  or meters?  or horselengths?... I don't know)

You can't tell in these pictures but the horses kick up dirt way up into the air.  That was my favorite part... the flinging dirt...  Hah

We went up front to steal a look at one of the races up close.

There weren't too many people there so we didn't have to fight for space so that was nice.

Logan put about two dollars on a horse and we took a classic Logan picture.  Don't believe me?  Look here or here.

This little guy (did I tell you the jockeys are little?!) was picked to win.  

So we watched at the horses got to their gates.

And there's number two!  Right in front where he was picked to be.

Oh and see that pink one... yep, that's the one we picked.  Whoops.

When asked why I knew so much about horse races my only excuse was Hoyle Casino, the computer game that also taught me how to play poker :)

Guest Blogger: Zachary the Turkey

I was a dreamer from a young age.

A wide-eyed poult who dreamed of making it big.  Maybe get the lead role in one of those prestigious Thanksgiving Pageants?

Maybe even become a tour guide at a famous national museum of some kind.  You know, Benjamin Franklin fought for the turkey as the national bird.  He won in my eyes.  Darn those arrogant eagles.

It wasn't long before Uncle Harv let me in on the truth of my sad little existence...

I don't like to talk about it...

Unfortunately, there is no escaping cold, hard reality, or in my case, steaming, fried reality. (That was a lot of commas in one sentence...)

In actuality, the true travesty in this picture has more to do with fashion than poultry humanity...

But anyway...

Enter Grant Tanner:

He seemed like a nice guy when we met.  He even got a few pictures with me!  

I thought maybe he recognized my true talent.  Perhaps my entertaining days were just around the corner!

I quickly learned his true, hungry intentions.

Ouch.

It's like he had done this before...

And dare I say... he enjoyed it?!

Nothing in all my poulthood experience could have prepared me for this...

Oh the humanity!

This is the moment I thought Mr. Grantie recognized his true error.  The vegan inside was surfacing for the first time in his ravenously carnivorous life, and met face to face with the stark reality of his inhumanity, he would see the error of his ways and let out an apologetic gobble.

The contemplation...

You can do it Mr. Grantie!  Give it up!

And the betrayal!

And heaven forbid he stop there!  

Oh to be young and feel love's keen sting!

Alas, is there no hope for humankind?  Or rather, Texaskind?!  

Endnote:  Sorry... I honestly have no idea where this post came from... Blame it on reading children's Halloween books at Barnes & Noble yesterday...

Fry Me Up Summun' Grood

In our lovely little day trip to the Texas State Fair we spent about 20 minutes walking around and checking out our instant heart attack options.  We settled on this:

It's three giant balls of cookie dough covered in batter and then deep fried.  Then they pour chocolate syrup all over it and sprinkle it with powdered sugar.

This is how I felt getting ready to take a bite:

This is how I felt after eating one of them...

Okay, I didn't exactly want to puke.  Only a little...  Normally I'm a big cookie dough fan, but these balls of cookie dough were huge... and fried...  Really, I think they were about the size of a snitch... maybe bigger.  See below for reference:

So anyway...

Grant ate some too.  Amazingly, I think he ate as much or more than I did.  

But after a while, we decided that the batter was the best part.  The cookie dough was just a little too rich and we liked the crunch that the batter offered.

So we ended up with this:

The verdict: 

Worth it?  Absolutely.

Eat it again?  No chance.

(And that's coming from the ultimate sweet tooth)