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I Went to Arkansas and All You Get Is This Lousy (and Late) Blog Post

During our layover in Dallas, dear, sweet Tim, never one to miss an opportunity to egg on my airplane phobia (now that my bus phobia is largely cured) made a big point of saying, "Did you see the plane we're flying into Ft. Smith?"

This is what he made me look at:


Tim, of course, immediately got into full Project Nerd, Domestic Superhero mode when we landed. Here he is doing some important something or other on Bob's tractor:


What IS it about men and tractors? I don't mean what men see in tractors, I mean what women see in men in tractors. I mean, I was almost ready to move to a farm. Almost.

The manliness could not last, however, as here he is fixing a toilet - with Frances' screwdriver:


Isn't it cute? I'd want one if I'd ever use it.

Still, Tim somehow managed to take time out to make (yet another) mockery of me, by making me feed the horses. Note the difference in how I do it:


vs. how he does it (also note Frances' giant, some might say "mutant," zucchini):


They seem not to like me. The feeling appears to be mutual:


Can you say, "Ewwwww!" (I've really never seen the appeal of riding one of these things. I mean, giving a very large, very dumb beast complete control over my Royal Personage? No thanks!)

Apparently, a lot of things need feeding on farms. Here we are at the catfish pond (note I am completely covered to the waist - no chiggers are gonna git me this trip!):



See the mouth in the lower right? It gave me nightmares (as I'm sure my mouth, ie "Ewwww," again, gave it).

Hey, Tim! If I'm such a bad driver, home come you let me drive Bob and Frances, huh???


Fortunately, it was eventually time for the rest of us to be fed, and even more fortunately, I wasn't the one doing the feeding:


That's me, Cousin JT, his friend, Mary, Bob and Frances.

After dinner, I noticed this across the Arkansas River from the restaurant and asked, "Oh, are they building an amusement park?" Much splitting of sides and slapping of knees, ensued.


It's actually a "sand and gravel operation" according to Tim:


And finally, my favorite line (which occured our last night, while I inspected Tim's ankles for chiggers):

Tim (bragging): "I was out all day, every day in the grass and never got one chigger! I'm immune to chiggers!"

Me (yawning): "One of your superpowers, eh?"

Comments (7)

Belinda Amerman:

FYI, chiggers are microscopic. They can easily get to your skin through clothes, especially where the clothing is held to your skin. But this time of year, they should be on the wain.

Nearly microscopic - I've seen the tiny red dots moving on my skin when we were in AR during our QUEENly trip a few years ago. Someone on Facebook mentioned Chigger Rid, which I shall definitely purchase by the gallon next time we go.

Hilarious, as usual! I share your sentiments toward horses. I rode one once, at the urging of my best friend. Just as we were about to 'mount' our horses, one horse returning from a trail ride (we were at a resort in Indiana) slipped and fell, dumping his passenger into the mud. Not an auspicious sign. My friend was not about to let me reneg. I rode, borderline-terrified, and will never ride again. Just to be clear, it was not fun. Of course that was only 38 years ago, so the memory is clearly indelibly etched on my psyche. Horses, like many animals, I can only love in pictures. They are beautiful, I'll give them that!


I went to an uncle's farm in deep So IL when I was little & got chiggers, an aunt told my mom to put fingernail polish on them. Well, she didn't tell her to use CLEAR fingernail polish. I looked like I had been in a war.

That so sounds like something I'd do. As Tim says, I'm "concrete as a sidewalk."


you have a great blog here You should consider networking with the moms in the bizymoms Fort-smith community.

Gee, thanks for the compliment, but I don't think you've actually read the blog: I'm neither a mom, nor live in Ft. Smith.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on August 20, 2009 3:13 PM.

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