Old MacDonald

This is a combine, not a tractor.  I don't really know the difference, but N would say it's important.

 One of the fields near E's grandpa's house had been plowed over and the boys thought it was a GIANT sandbox.

This barn is over 100 years old.  I just think it's really neat looking.

This past weekend, we drove to a tiny place near Poplar Bluff, MO to visit E's grandpa.  This is slightly more than 500 miles of driving.  Our children are both under 30 months old (but thankfully, both over the age of 1).  According to our Garmin, this whole trip should have taken approximately 7.5 hours, or if you listen to Google about 8.5 hours.  It took us approximately 10 hours each way.  I think I've blocked most of it out in a kind of post-traumatic stress self-preservation thing, but I can remember that it wasn't the most terrible drive ever.  My left shoulder may disagree from the hours and hours spent with my arm holding hands with the tiny people in the backseat, but overall it went much better than we could have hoped.

The actual visit part was really nice, although too short.  We visited the weekend of the big harvest festival in the town E's grandpa lives in, so there was lots of interesting stuff to watch.  This is a super-big-deal to the town, as there are approximately 500 residents and the harvest is a big big BIG deal.  I honestly don't know anything about farming, but I know all about eating, and I know that a harvest means food and food makes me happy, so I'm all about celebrating that.  We got to see a parade, look at bunnies and ducks, and listen to live gospel music.  We also got to spend plenty of time traipsing around E's grandpa's farm, looking at everything, but most importantly the tractors.  And combines.  And bulldozers.  And whatever.  The large farm equipment was a HUGE hit with the little guys.

Other that the drive (recall I've blocked it from my memory), the only other irksome part of the trip were the small towns that served as breakpoints on our drive.  Now in the big D (ehem, suburbs of said big D), we've all embraced the modern father.  This is not so in the small farming communities that we visited.  How do I know this?  Every stop we had our kiddos needed potty breaks.  B still needs diaper changes, on full-up changing tables.  Can E do it this time?  Nope.  Why?  There is no changing table.  Not once did we stop in some location where there was a changing table in the men's room.  Needless to say, I did the lion's share of diaper changes this weekend.

I think I deserve a night off.  Good think I'm going to that musical on Thursday!