Monday, May 7, 2012

#51 He Carves Our Names

I know, I haven't posted in a while.  Blogger changed the dashboard (what I see when I post) and I've been lazily putting off getting used to the new look of things, which meant, no new posts.

Pathetic, I know.

Two weekends ago my hubby asked me if I'd like to go 'hiking' and have a picnic.  To me, that meant we were going to take a little walk and then spread out our picnic in a picturesque place to eat.

Even when he mentioned hiking trails I still wasn't convinced it was going to be serious walking.

Even when he looked down at my sandal-ized feet and said, "You're not going to wear sneakers?", I still wasn't believing it.

So, we headed towards an undisclosed location.  I can't specify where because of the ridiculousness that follows.

We found a nice Park Ranger Lady and asked her if we were in the right place and where the hiking trails were. She gave us a paper map and pointed to the direction we should head.  She told us to go right to get to the river and go left to find the hiking trails and a creek.

I won't tell you who made the choice to go left.

This is what we came upon first:

In case I haven't mentioned this before, I have a secret desire to one day own a farm.  That said, I was loving this view.  In fact, I would have been perfectly content to sit down right in front of that barn and have our picnic and call it a day.

Hubby, however, was intent on eating waterside.  Also, he was pretty convinced that my barn was on an area of the map marked private property.

There was supposed to be an obvious hiking trail at this point.  There was a trail, which we proceeded to follow, but I'm still convinced it was not an intentional hiking trail.

(Oh, and yes, at this point my sandals were dusty and many rocks had found their way underneath my foot).

We walked for about twenty minutes, were continuously picking ticks off one another, then finally decided that we might never find this mystical creek Park Ranger Lady had spoke of.  It was when we came upon a deserted area that had a circle of old tires laid out on the ground that we decided it would be smart to turn around.  Who knows what had happened or was going to happen there.

As we came back to the barn we stopped to observe this tree.

 After recognizing it was covered with inscriptions from lovers in love, I gave hubby the eyes, and he did this:

He's so romantic.

Luckily, unlike our supposed creek, the river was not twenty minutes away from civilization, but rather only about five.

The second we found it we plopped onto the ground to eat.

And then we went home.

 The end.

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