When we were newlyweds, Greg’s Grandma Rouble, in between serious laments for my failure to change my name to Cooper (Are you really married?), sent us photos of Texas Bluebells and other wildflowers in an attempt to convince us to visit while they were in blossom. Though we did visit in springtime, we sadly missed the blooms. So, every time we drove past a field dappled with every color and hue, we thought of her bidding us good day from the sweet hereafter, the pair of us offering our most cheerful “Hello Rouble!” in reply.
Good coffee and even friendlier service in Post!
Greg’s Dad grew up in Ralls. Hi Alan!
While in the Panhandle, we stayed with our cousin and very fine host, Cynthia. Juniper was ready to romp with her dogs. This is Groot.
League adjacent bowler…
Sunrise at Cynthia’s
Juniper in wild wonder at the sight of bison at Caprock Canyons.
Cousins AND fabulous music fans.
When I was a little girl, my Grandma Frances LOVED Furr’s. She would always convince me to go by saying that I could get anything I wanted, which actually translated to most anything (Jell-O!) but not everything. I could never-ever have a pat of butter or a beverage, because, at the time, they cost extra. So, when I saw the sign for Furr’s, you bet I wanted to go, and so we did, TWICE. You bet I got extra pats of butter and iced tea, too!
A wee slice of Oklahoma.