Adventuring

I nagged the girls into taking a walk with me to the "cliffs" last weekend when we visited my folks.

I couldn't find my camera (it was in my book bag) so I was forced to take pictures with my phone.  Which I hate doing.  But can I just say that this scene is what my soul yearns for?  Wide open spaces, soap weeds and yucca plants.  Your nearest neighbor a mile away.

Granted, the pictures do not do the place justice, but some of my best memories were at these cliffs.  My brother, cousins and I used to carve our names in the sandstone walls, hoping to leave hieroglyphics for generations to come.  Oh, and we also had some game that involved pretending we were outlaws carving our names in our hideouts.  I think this had to do with watching too many John Wayne movies that always involved man hunts through canyons.

We had some exciting times last weekend.  It is rather disconcerting to try and walk to the cliffs when my dad's cattle were determined to chase us the entire way.  Seriously, the cattle were walking at our shoulder the entire way.  I could have ignored it, or even scratched their ears if it had just been us.  Only they weren't really interested in having their ears scratched as they were interested in trampling the dog.

It seems that children and dogs are an oddity in the pastures nowadays.  I asked Dad if the dogs stayed at home when we were kids.  You see, I've discovered that the cattle seem to consider Kelsey a threat, and their goal is to trample her to death.  Apparently, the cattle thought nothing of us traipsing through the pasture with dogs on our heels when we were all home. It was a normal sight to them those days.

Here's some bathroom humor for you.  I needed to use the "facilities" while we were hiking.  Unfortunately, there are no "facilities" in the pasture.  So I did what any good farm girl does.  I squatted in a crevice out of the 50 mph wind and did my business.

Shortly after my bathroom break, I commented on how I love that you can feel completely alone out there.  Popcorn informed me, "I don't like to be alone, unless I'm constipated."

 Naturally, I laughed.  Because I'm classy that way.

Only I had misunderstood her in the howling wind.  She actually said she only liked to be alone in her room.  How I got constipated out of that I have no idea.

Anyhoo, Bookworm stated in her matter of fact way, "Well of course you need to be alone when you're constipated.  You don't want everyone to know you don't eat enough vegetables."

She was mystified as to why I found that so funny.  Because that's what happens when you don't eat your vegetables.  Or if you aren't drinking enough water.

Don't you wish you had a nurse for a mom to nag you about all sorts of such nonsense?

Can you see Kelsey in the background, resting in the shade?  She had worn herself out.  Every time the girls kicked a rock loose and it went rolling down the slope, Kelsey would run down the cliff as fast as she could, slipping and sliding the whole way.  Determined to chase down the "threat" to the girls.  Then she would run back up as fast as she could.  

She was plum tuckered out when I shot this picture.  She had figured out that nobody was in immediate danger and was enjoying the view with the rest of us.

Of course, I should probably tell you that she decided the rocks were a bad thing when Popcorn was walking on a ledge above her sister and knocked loose a rock as big as a bowling ball.  I yelled at Bookworm to get out of the way, but all she did was scold her sister for "nearly killing her."  Kelsey however, sprung into action as soon as I yelled and tore after the rock.  I don't know what the dumb dog would have done if she'd actually have caught the rock.  Probably had a bad headache.

 Here's a picture of Popcorn trying to slide down the rocky slope on her feet.  

I tried to teach them to sit on their bottoms on the steep sandy slopes and slide down.  Sure you end up with pants and shoes full of sand, but it's fun!  It seems she finds it more thrilling to try and ski down.

I have no idea why my dad will not let them go down there without adult supervision...

Isn't this a lovely expression to end this post with?  And is that outfit perfect or what?  Camouflage to hide from hungry cougars.  Squaw boots so she can feel like a true Native American.  And lovely orange pants to top it off!

Oh, and speaking of Native Americans, Popcorn was weeping and "felt as if she would faint" if she didn't get water soon, and why wouldn't I use my cell to call Grandpa to bring the pickup to come get us, and she was exhausted.  I suggested the girls try the old Indian trick of sucking on a rock when they were dehydrated.

Both girls eagerly popped carefully chosen smooth round pebbles in their cheeks...

Apparently rocks taste a lot like dirt.