Clay got a new job and a new apartment in a town about an hour from here. She doesn't drive yet, so we found an apartment close to work and close to church. Moving furniture wasn't too bad, but I've been down there now four times in the last three weeks.
Today, Turtle and I, Art and Carina, and Zaya and Mim all went for a visit. There was a rattlesnake festival up town, and cowboys everywhere in the streets...a little too exciting for my taste--since I had come to help out with laundry. (she doesn't have a washer or dryer yet) and the only laundromat was closed so the owners could go have their pictures taken with a rattlesnake, eat rattlesnake meat, or participate in the "snake of the day" contest. Anyway, I drove for about twenty five miles looking for a laundromat and finally gave up, so I could go spend some time with the grandchildren.
When I got back to the apartment they were exploring with their father and had discovered a tunnel under the street nearby. It was really an enchanted looking place, and perfect for taking pictures--the graffiti and cement making the door at the other end look like an inner city exit to Narnia, so I explored a while with them, but, being a proper grandmother, I became a little nervous and afraid they would stick their hand up through a crack onto the highway, so I steered them gently back toward the little park and apartment complex.
Zaya and Mim told me they had made two major discoveries on their field trip with their father:
First, that large mound of black stuff they were standing on in the tunnel was safe to stand on as it was really just hardened asphalt, and second, that horse poop floats. That's how it got all along the grassy ditch. Recent rains had washed it down from the stables up the street.
Interesting stuff.
