263/365

How embarrassing. Raised in the great state of Kansas and don't know how to ride a horse. Well, not really. I'm not that torn up about it. In fact, the entertainment value of my extreme ignorance is well-worth the extreme ignorance...if that makes any sense. Ahh, who am I kidding?! I am 263 days in. Making sense is pretty low on the list of priorities anymore.

Back to the point. We ventured down to Inglewood, KS ($50 to the first person who can find it on a map.) for a family picnic. And when I say picnic, I mean pic-NIC. Catered bbq, horse riding, buggies, bonfires, basketball, cowboy hats, and lots of Clawson's. I was talking to Rodney on the way home and we both agreed that it is so nice to be a part of a family that values "the way it's always been". For the most part, we live these somewhat unconventional lives comprised of unique social networks, jobs and family structures. But at heart I love that at least one part of my life is old-fashioned. A family who still wears cowboy hats and lives on ranches and eats dinner together at night and works together on the farm and makes it to church on Sunday morning. God Bless the Clawson's.