on the range and in the woods

A few months ago I took Joanna on a tour of Fort Campbell. This week my award-winning touring company was back in business when my friend Kim came to visit. It was slightly more successful than Joanna’s tour because 1) we didn’t get lost, and 2) we got out of the car.

We stopped at the range to bring Christopher lunch and some coffee.

It took everything in me not to start singing, “Oh give me a hoooooome, home on the raaaaaaange!”. (Sometimes people don't appreciate when I break out in song. I can't understand why.)

Two of the mornings Kim and I went horseback riding.

I’ve only ridden about 3 times in the last six years, but that didn’t stop me from giving Kim some pointers.  She stared freaking out when her horse wanted to taste some leaves on the side of the trail because branches were in her face. I turned around and said, “All you have to do is pull the reigns to the left and he’ll go back on the trail.” I was so proud for giving such a fine tip that I was this close to patting myself on the back. Just as I began to think I must be some sort of horse-riding prodigy, I turned back to face the trail and found myself with a face full of branches. Apparently pride goeth before one rides into a tree. 

The trail guide on the second day was a girl named Lexi. After an hour of discussing proposals and weddings (Kim and Lexi are both newly engaged so they exchanged/compared/dissected stories of how they were proposed to), the topic turned to car seat warmers. I didn't say much during this conversation because I was interested in hearing what two southern girls had to say about cold weather. Lexi mentioned that she was devastated when her seat warmer broke during one of the winters she spent in Florida. I asked her if it really got cold enough for a seat warmer and she said, “Of course! It got ALL THE WAY down to 60 degrees!” I think she has a different definition of cold than I do.