This evening finds us in much more of a relaxing setting than did three days ago. House-sitting is becoming quite a regular pleasure. Our house is once again equipped with giant tv, cute dog, and an invitation to eat whatever we find. Ravioli and Capri Sun for dinner, myself in a mini recliner and Whit making our wedding book online. Let’s see, about this time on Saturday we were staggering down the Wichita Mountains dripping and grateful to be alive. I’ll get to that later; let me get you up to speed since Labor Day.
Praise the Lord! A cool front finally came in, We Love September! We Love Fall! I Love Climbing into my Car and not Feeling my Receding Crown Instantly Breaking a Sweat! Multiple pleasant evenings have been spent sitting in our porch glider drinking tea and reading. I made a mad chili last week, and we can’t wait to bike ride around Lake Hefner. This month also brings advancement to job situations. Whitney went full time at Crown Plaza, as we’ve been hoping she would, and I got promoted (and received a raise).
Labor Day was probably the most memorable of our lives. To (pronounced toe), my Vietnamese mother/co-worker, made good on her promise to teach us how to make fried rice (oh yeah!). We arrived at her house Saturday afternoon (after numerous failed attempts to give us directions over the phone resulting in her Americanized daughter saving us), and walked into a house chalk full of Vietnamese. The only white guy quickly came up, introduced himself as Paul, and made us feel a little less awkward. We had a blast! Whitney hit it off with To’s daughter, we stayed later than most everyone and they conversed about wedding plans past and present. Plus we can now make killer fried rice.
Urban Exploration has quieted down a bit, though this past Friday brought us a true hole in the wall joint (from the outside made a re-run of nigh rider look professional). Bobo’s Chicken… that’s right, Bobo’s Chicken, except I’m pretty sure that there was no apostrophe on the sign. A chicken stand in the ghetto of OKC where the chicken is smoked, fried, then doused with honey. Also included in the wings and thighs as your only option, and also doused with honey, are biscuits and fries. Found out the hard way, they regularly open up two hours later than the listed time (5 pm), but I’m sure they always stay open until their listed 3am. It was quite an experience, which paled in comparison to Saturday, a day that was as I like to say, the stuff life is made of.
The Heartland Couples Class took a trip to the Wichita Mountains in southern Oklahoma. Whitney and I signed up to go on a picnic, once the activity had begun we found out that a hike up the mountain was part of the program (we thought it was a bad day for jean skirt and converse, we had no idea). The weather was beautiful and the hike up the mountain was rigorous but extremely enjoyable. Looking over the landscape from the peak was incredible, wind blowing over us, the sound of thunder in the distance. A second peak of the mountain was our second destination and then back to the bus before rain. Somewhere in between peaks we split off from the group and got completely lost, disturbingly separated from the trail, utterly out of ear shot. We attempted going down the mountain and encountered a drop off then backtracked. We attempted going down the mountain came to a drop off and then backtracked. We attempted going down the mountain came to a drop off and then backtracked. No, your eyes don’t deceive you, I did just repeat that three times, unfortunately we did not…only repeat that three times. Poor Whitney was exhausted while we were still looking for the trail on top of the mountain. Thankfully though she was wearing a straight jean skirt, so clambering over the waist to shoulder high boulders was a breeze, considering that it started to downpour on us. Finally the trail was located (now rather flooded) and we followed it down the mountain until we ran into forest/brush on every side of us (suspiciously non-trail looking). Ernest Hemingway described these parts of the mountain as the cast-iron forest, so we naturally tried to blaze our own trail, till Whitney got a cactus in her leg. It was about this time we heard voices (the search party sent out for us only right before they accidentally almost left us). The trail was once again located and we slip and slid down the mountain into the arms of much love and graciousness, the exact opposite words I would use to describe the soaked, two hour freezing bus ride home.
You’ll have to forgive the extended nature of this post, I know of no other way to convey the above story with fewer words. Here are a few more, we love you all. Can’t wait to see those of you north in a couple of weeks!
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