Outside, outside

While the exterminator was trying to get rid of the gnome infestation and other mirages in my house, I thought I would get out of the house for a couple of days and go someplace cooler. Unfortunately, I must have made a wrong turn somewhere, because I ended up in Arkansas, which was not really much cooler than the furnace known as Oklahoma.

I headed to the Buffalo River. I've been pining for the Buffalo since February. I'm ready to spend two weeks with Rudy the Red-nosed kayak, getting to know every bend of the Buffalo.

Right now, that area is known as the Buffalo Boulder Field. There ain't no water. 

It's kind of like going to museums- you never visit the ones in your own hometown, you must drive far away for the museums to be interesting. So instead of treading the claybeds that pass for creeks and rivers in the Sooner state, I opted for the gravel pits in their most Natural state.

And yes, hot as it was, I camped. As one person said, when I admitted to being the lone ranger in the campground, "Are you freakin insane?!"

On the upside, the bathrooms were not crowded, the place was quiet and I got a lot of work done, and I didn't have to jockey for parking in the shade. On the downside, I took three sink baths between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. and didn't sleep a lot. I figured this way I would have a greater appreciation for air conditioning.

I walked, I photographed, I perspired, I contemplated, I immersed myself in what is the Buffalo in Summer.  And thought about air conditioning. And ice cream.

It's getting weird around here

I think I may be having heat-induced hallucinations.  Things are getting weird around here. Weirder than usual, I mean.

There's cats sleeping in the sink.

Allegedly, Helga tried to commit hippo hara-kiri from the bathroom window. I found the screen on the ground outside. Helga was poised on the window sill. This was after a great deal of giggling by The Whee and one of her friends. There was the sound of a crash as well. They blamed it on Helga. I shudder to think what tortures they might have created that made a hippo want to jump.

And now, to top it off, gnomes. My kitchen is infested with gnomes.

I need to call an exterminator. Or maybe just have some ice water and lie down for a bit...

More fun stuff

That's it. I give up. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.  (Usually this refers to my children, whom I beat every chance I get. Just kidding!) 

I've decided that by golly, if I'm going to be hot and sweaty in spite of the AC churning its little heart out, taking seven showers a day, and buying out the inventory of the Braum's next door, I'm going to have fun doing it.

I'll be headed out to brave the heat for some outdoor activity, which has been sadly missing this summer. So is Daughter #1, (heading out for activity, not missing) but she's headed to a place with temperate temperatures, clear water, and funner fish than we find in Oklahoma: Curacao. Until this week, I though she was going to Mexico. I got that "Mother, you're a dumbass" look when I asked her where Curacao was. It's down by Venezuela, by the way, in case you want to look smarter than the average blogger.

Which, interestingly, is not all that far from the place where my blogger colleague is cooking this week, over at What's cooking in your world

In the meantime, as you hold your breath waiting for the stories of adventures and mishaps, check out my friend Gretchen Steele's cyber place:
Medicine Mama 's Outdoor Daily News. Maybe you'll get some ideas for braving the overcooked outdoors. Or maybe you'll just decide to go someplace that's not Oklahoma.