"My husband wore a lot of pink underwear and ate a lot of beans that rattled," Nina told me after church one afternoon. "I got married when I was 14 and he has put up with a lot." She proceeded to tell me her entire story.
As a wife and mom, her story fascinates me as much as it did when she first told me. I was barely sixteen and thought I was in love. Filled with humor and grit, I learned a lot about the woman who sat in the fourth row from the front of our church. Nina was a woman everyone should meet.
Married at 14 and a mom at 17, Nina's life wasn't as easy for her and Ben. He was 18 when they married. He worked in the oil fields in southern Oklahoma and was gone for weeks at a time. Nina finished high school and became a housewife in the time she wasn't in school or doing her homework. She missed Ben, but knew this was their lot in life.
"I threw potatoes at him when he'd complain about my cooking," she laughed. "I moved from Momma's kitchen into my own and didn't have a clue about cooking. It takes more than three minutes to cook a three minute egg."
I had to laugh at that. She was one of the best cooks our church had. People paid top dollar for her pies and cakes at the bake sales we had. Her taco casserole and her potato salad were always the first to disappear whenever we had our monthly potlucks the last Sunday of the month.
"I'm surprised my first kids lived," she announced. "Do you know once colic starts, it doesn't go away until the start school?"
I knew all five of Nina and Ben's kids. All were active in our church. I even went to school with her youngest daughter. She and I are still close. All five of them graduated from high school, three of them with honors. Those same three went on to college, each earned both Bachelor's and Master's degrees.
Nina and Ben pinched their pennies and bought a house of their own. She described it as a three bedroom dump. She was thankful that it was well off the road and back in the hills, convinced the county would have condemned it if they had known anyone lived there. Especially a 17 year old mom with a husband that spent more time on an oil rig than at home.
"The living room floor caved in one day," she told me. "Ben was away and Dana was crawling not too far from where it fell in. I didn't know what to do. We didn't have a phone so I took boards off the porch and patched it the best I could. I couldn't tell my Daddy. He's shot me and Ben for sure for buying such a house."
Once again, they scrounged and saved. They turned it into a seven bedroom, five bathroom farmhouse with the biggest kitchen I've ever seen. I was a bride's maid in that house twice. Several people had in our community held their weddings there.
"Ben and I fought all the time the first five years. I'd threaten to go home to Momma and he'd toss me the car keys." She shook her head. "He put up with a lot of teen-age junk. I was married and didn't have a date to the prom; Ben was working that week-end. That can still get ugly if he misses the clothes hamper."
They had been married about 30 years by that time. Together, Nina and Ben teach the young married Sunday school class. If anyone knew how to stay married, those two do. I told her that not too longer as we talked about our lives as married women and mothers.
"I don't know how to make a marriage work," she said, cutting me off quickly. "We mostly tell them what not to do. I tell them to get in the Bible and stay there. And, laugh at each other. Not with each other, but at each other. Marriage is funny and anyone crazy enough to do it needs to be laughed at."
Pink underwear and beans that rattle. I guess that is what makes a marriage work. The Bible and laughter helps as well. That crazy woman Nina. Threatening to go home to Momma and complaining about a dateless prom from many, many years ago. I don't know how folks do marriage other places, but that is marriage Okie-style. Maybe my husband and I could improve our marriage if I threw potatoes.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Paranormal Activity
Seeing today is Halloween, my thoughts turn to the paranormal. It is, after all, the day when all the ghosts, goblins and spirits are suppose to be the most active. I don't know how much of that I actually believe. I do know that I can't help but to think about my visit to the Pawnee Ranch and Museum. Truth be told, I can't get it out of my mind. That was first time I had ever known I had been, without any doubt, involved in some sort of paranormal activity.
Until that day in Pawnee, I had never believed in ghosts or spirits wandering the earth. My faith tells that when people die, they immediately go one place or another. Granny taught me that. I was raised on it. What happened to me didn't shatter my faith in God or Heaven or Hell. It made me consider other options that might explain the paranormal activity I had witnessed.
If anything, my Pawnee paranormal activity strengthened my faith. I believe in angels and demons. They walk every step with us. They are assigned to each of us. Angels are there to lead us, guide us and to protect us. Demons are there to get us into as much trouble as they can, to throw stumbling blocks at us to get us off our perfect path. I have dealt with both angels and demons in the past. I understand them and their purpose. There is no mystery, if that is what caused the paranormal activity at the Pawnee Ranch and Museum.
Do angels and demons linger after we are gone? Do they stick around, waiting for their next assignment? If the answer is yes, that almost explains the paranormal activity I was witness to. I don't have to ponder energy and ghosts. I can simply tell myself that those assigned to help us and hinder us are waiting for their next job.
There are a few problems I have with angels and demons being the cause of the paranormal activity. In the past when I've experienced the presence of angels and demons, I had a sense of good or evil - depending on what was with me at the time. I felt neither one when I was in Pawnee. It was neither comforting or scary. Another problem is why would angels care if I took photos? I wasn't going to use the photos for something that was wrong. Based on that, my theory of angels or demons causing the paranormal activity is blown out of the water. It would be impossible.
I really want answers as to what caused the paranormal activity at the Pawnee Bill Ranch and Museum. I'll keep trying to figure it out. Maybe I'll find some sort of answer somewhere, someday. Until then, I will have to accept that paranormal activity can't always be explained.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Until that day in Pawnee, I had never believed in ghosts or spirits wandering the earth. My faith tells that when people die, they immediately go one place or another. Granny taught me that. I was raised on it. What happened to me didn't shatter my faith in God or Heaven or Hell. It made me consider other options that might explain the paranormal activity I had witnessed.
If anything, my Pawnee paranormal activity strengthened my faith. I believe in angels and demons. They walk every step with us. They are assigned to each of us. Angels are there to lead us, guide us and to protect us. Demons are there to get us into as much trouble as they can, to throw stumbling blocks at us to get us off our perfect path. I have dealt with both angels and demons in the past. I understand them and their purpose. There is no mystery, if that is what caused the paranormal activity at the Pawnee Ranch and Museum.
Do angels and demons linger after we are gone? Do they stick around, waiting for their next assignment? If the answer is yes, that almost explains the paranormal activity I was witness to. I don't have to ponder energy and ghosts. I can simply tell myself that those assigned to help us and hinder us are waiting for their next job.
There are a few problems I have with angels and demons being the cause of the paranormal activity. In the past when I've experienced the presence of angels and demons, I had a sense of good or evil - depending on what was with me at the time. I felt neither one when I was in Pawnee. It was neither comforting or scary. Another problem is why would angels care if I took photos? I wasn't going to use the photos for something that was wrong. Based on that, my theory of angels or demons causing the paranormal activity is blown out of the water. It would be impossible.
I really want answers as to what caused the paranormal activity at the Pawnee Bill Ranch and Museum. I'll keep trying to figure it out. Maybe I'll find some sort of answer somewhere, someday. Until then, I will have to accept that paranormal activity can't always be explained.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Oklahoma State of Mind
I recently received a sweet "tweet" from one of my Twitter friends about this blog. The Twitterer tweeted, "It put me in an Oklahoma state of mind." I'm not sure what others consider an Oklahoma state of mind, but I know what it means to me...
I go back in time to gardening with my Granny. We'd poke holes in the red dirt and drop little seeds into it. We'd pull crab grass from around that little patch of Heaven and watch all the vegetables grow. We grew the best tomatoes, green beans and sage ever. I can't find anything that compares to those veggies.
I see myself sitting on my Granddad's lap, driving around the farm on his riding lawn mower. It was a red and there was barely enough room for him, but he always made space for me. I learned to drive on the red lawn mower. We'd drive around for hours, waiting for Granny to call us in for supper.
An Oklahoma state of mind is huddled in the cellar listening to the wind blow and praying we'd still see the house and barns once we heard Gary England say it was safe to come out. I can see the coal oil lamps flicker against the whitewash on the walls. I can hear my Granny read from the Bible about how Jesus calmed the seas and how His eye is sparrow. "God didn't give me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind," my Granny would quote. "I'm not afraid of the storm. I have a sound mind and that is why we are in the cellar."
I can't leave out driving to Rush Springs to "pick a good'en." Yes, watermelon is one of my weaknesses. We'd get the best one we could find and drive to a park in Duncan. There we would eat our watermelon and watch the birds in the trees and the squirrels dart around gathering food for the winter. Even the ants couldn't ruin our day. My grandparents had a plan; they would leave a piece of watermelon for the ants a few feet away and those ants wouldn't bother us.
For all of my breaks in college, I'd fly home. I'd watch the travelers at Will Rogers World Airport come and go with all their luggage. I'd make up stories for them, pretending I knew why they were their and what their plans were. That was a great way for me to create characters for all the writing I did. Hugs and kisses with tears of joy and sadness were seen all over the airport.
There is also piling up in the back of a pick-up and driving to the high school football games on Friday nights. "We're big B-I-G and we're bad B-A-D and we're boss B-O-S-S, B-O-S-S, boss!" we'd chant as we pulled into the town of the losing team. I was blessed to attend a school that won state championships year after year.
I remember sitting in the shade of a blackjack tree and watching the clouds. I could see all sorts of shapes and the wind moved the clouds about. Sometimes I'd be in my tree swing, wishing I could swing high enough to jump in the back of the fluffy white turtle cloud. The sun would set and all the colors would swirl around. I'd jump out of the swing into a pile of leaves and run inside to wash up for supper - Granny's soup with homemade biscuits or a big pot of beans. Unless she fixed a "real supper" which is a lot like the holiday meals I cook today. I wish I could make fried chicken, meatloaf and pork chops with all sorts of vegetables and desserts for one meal. My modern life doesn't afford me that luxury.
Oh, the fried pies. I still don't know how Granny made them. She'd go out and pick peaches, apricots and apples and, the next thing I knew, we had fried pies. She made jams and jellies from all the fruit as well. I opened the last jar of her apricot preserves a few years ago. My daughter loved it. It was my favorite as well. There was never a recipe written down so I wont' be able to even try to reproduce her masterpiece. She never used recipes. She could just look at whatever she was cooking or baking and now what and how much to add.
I can't leave out my great-uncle's tent revivals he would have in my grandparent's backyard. We'd place long boards on cement blocks for pews. "Heaven's high and Hell's hot, I'm gonna preach," my uncle would say. He was a fiery Pentecostal preacher that walked the talk he talked. Folks would drive for miles to hear him preach. You'd have to get there early to find a seat. I remember the family picnics before those revivals. It seemed the Riley clan came out of the woodwork to hear him preach. He traveled around the country and seeing him was a real treat; he only made it home once or twice a year, if that. He preached well into his nineties.
An Oklahoma state of mind is driving to downtown Oklahoma City and going to the National Oklahoma City Memorial. I remember bringing supplies to those who were helping rescue people. I saw the paws of dogs bleeding as they searched for survivors of the bombing. People huddled in small groups. Some sang hymns and others just stood silently, waiting for the impact to finally hit them. Folks came from all over to help us. And, we helped ourselves. We banded together and did what we could - still reeling from the shock of the situation.
The smell of a cotton field puts me in an Oklahoma state of mind. I don't see many of them anymore, but I remember them. I also remember the stories about picking cotton my family told me. How the dust bowls hit and some of the men set out to California to be "prune pickers." They worked hard and sent back the money they earned to keep their families and farms going during those dark days. Those stories give me hope. No matter how tough the times are now, I know we will make it through. If they could make, we can as well.
A woman in our community was diagnosed with cancer. Her husband, an oilfield worker, had been laid off and the temporary job he was working didn't offer health insurance. We had countless bean suppers, garage sales and the like to raise money for her treatment. We put together an old-fashion "singing." The Riley boys, my cousins, brought in their guitars, fiddles and other instruments to play and sing. There were lots of other talented folks showed up to "pick and sing" for this lady and her medical needs.
Yes, these are all things that put me in an Oklahoma state of mind. Little pieces of my past that lets me know I'm an Okie. Lets me know I'm proud to be an Okie. I often wonder if other people feel as strongly about their home as I do. Do folks in other states have such stories to tell? Do they understand their rich heritage and use it to make a better tomorrow for themselves and their families? I'm a bit partial so it is hard for me to believe that they have such a history, a history that can put them in to such a wonderful state of mind.
I'm ending it here. I could keep going, but I can't see the computer screen or keyboard through my tears. They are happy ones, though. I have really put myself in an Oklahoma state of mind.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
I go back in time to gardening with my Granny. We'd poke holes in the red dirt and drop little seeds into it. We'd pull crab grass from around that little patch of Heaven and watch all the vegetables grow. We grew the best tomatoes, green beans and sage ever. I can't find anything that compares to those veggies.
I see myself sitting on my Granddad's lap, driving around the farm on his riding lawn mower. It was a red and there was barely enough room for him, but he always made space for me. I learned to drive on the red lawn mower. We'd drive around for hours, waiting for Granny to call us in for supper.
An Oklahoma state of mind is huddled in the cellar listening to the wind blow and praying we'd still see the house and barns once we heard Gary England say it was safe to come out. I can see the coal oil lamps flicker against the whitewash on the walls. I can hear my Granny read from the Bible about how Jesus calmed the seas and how His eye is sparrow. "God didn't give me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind," my Granny would quote. "I'm not afraid of the storm. I have a sound mind and that is why we are in the cellar."
I can't leave out driving to Rush Springs to "pick a good'en." Yes, watermelon is one of my weaknesses. We'd get the best one we could find and drive to a park in Duncan. There we would eat our watermelon and watch the birds in the trees and the squirrels dart around gathering food for the winter. Even the ants couldn't ruin our day. My grandparents had a plan; they would leave a piece of watermelon for the ants a few feet away and those ants wouldn't bother us.
For all of my breaks in college, I'd fly home. I'd watch the travelers at Will Rogers World Airport come and go with all their luggage. I'd make up stories for them, pretending I knew why they were their and what their plans were. That was a great way for me to create characters for all the writing I did. Hugs and kisses with tears of joy and sadness were seen all over the airport.
There is also piling up in the back of a pick-up and driving to the high school football games on Friday nights. "We're big B-I-G and we're bad B-A-D and we're boss B-O-S-S, B-O-S-S, boss!" we'd chant as we pulled into the town of the losing team. I was blessed to attend a school that won state championships year after year.
I remember sitting in the shade of a blackjack tree and watching the clouds. I could see all sorts of shapes and the wind moved the clouds about. Sometimes I'd be in my tree swing, wishing I could swing high enough to jump in the back of the fluffy white turtle cloud. The sun would set and all the colors would swirl around. I'd jump out of the swing into a pile of leaves and run inside to wash up for supper - Granny's soup with homemade biscuits or a big pot of beans. Unless she fixed a "real supper" which is a lot like the holiday meals I cook today. I wish I could make fried chicken, meatloaf and pork chops with all sorts of vegetables and desserts for one meal. My modern life doesn't afford me that luxury.
Oh, the fried pies. I still don't know how Granny made them. She'd go out and pick peaches, apricots and apples and, the next thing I knew, we had fried pies. She made jams and jellies from all the fruit as well. I opened the last jar of her apricot preserves a few years ago. My daughter loved it. It was my favorite as well. There was never a recipe written down so I wont' be able to even try to reproduce her masterpiece. She never used recipes. She could just look at whatever she was cooking or baking and now what and how much to add.
I can't leave out my great-uncle's tent revivals he would have in my grandparent's backyard. We'd place long boards on cement blocks for pews. "Heaven's high and Hell's hot, I'm gonna preach," my uncle would say. He was a fiery Pentecostal preacher that walked the talk he talked. Folks would drive for miles to hear him preach. You'd have to get there early to find a seat. I remember the family picnics before those revivals. It seemed the Riley clan came out of the woodwork to hear him preach. He traveled around the country and seeing him was a real treat; he only made it home once or twice a year, if that. He preached well into his nineties.
An Oklahoma state of mind is driving to downtown Oklahoma City and going to the National Oklahoma City Memorial. I remember bringing supplies to those who were helping rescue people. I saw the paws of dogs bleeding as they searched for survivors of the bombing. People huddled in small groups. Some sang hymns and others just stood silently, waiting for the impact to finally hit them. Folks came from all over to help us. And, we helped ourselves. We banded together and did what we could - still reeling from the shock of the situation.
The smell of a cotton field puts me in an Oklahoma state of mind. I don't see many of them anymore, but I remember them. I also remember the stories about picking cotton my family told me. How the dust bowls hit and some of the men set out to California to be "prune pickers." They worked hard and sent back the money they earned to keep their families and farms going during those dark days. Those stories give me hope. No matter how tough the times are now, I know we will make it through. If they could make, we can as well.
A woman in our community was diagnosed with cancer. Her husband, an oilfield worker, had been laid off and the temporary job he was working didn't offer health insurance. We had countless bean suppers, garage sales and the like to raise money for her treatment. We put together an old-fashion "singing." The Riley boys, my cousins, brought in their guitars, fiddles and other instruments to play and sing. There were lots of other talented folks showed up to "pick and sing" for this lady and her medical needs.
Yes, these are all things that put me in an Oklahoma state of mind. Little pieces of my past that lets me know I'm an Okie. Lets me know I'm proud to be an Okie. I often wonder if other people feel as strongly about their home as I do. Do folks in other states have such stories to tell? Do they understand their rich heritage and use it to make a better tomorrow for themselves and their families? I'm a bit partial so it is hard for me to believe that they have such a history, a history that can put them in to such a wonderful state of mind.
I'm ending it here. I could keep going, but I can't see the computer screen or keyboard through my tears. They are happy ones, though. I have really put myself in an Oklahoma state of mind.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sad, Sad Saturday
It isn't just a football game to me. I am in way to deep with the whole rivalry between OU and "that team" from the wrong side of the Red River. I have been for years. I remember...
Packing up and heading out with my parents down I-35 to watch the game as a child. That was back in the day. Back when Barry Switzer was the coach and the wishbone reigned supreme. We'd leave on Friday morning and make a week-end of it. Those days are gone, long gone.
I miss the ground game. The whole passing game is so boring. I want to see the action of ducking and dodging and running around. Watching the ball fly through the air isn't the same thing to me. Not that I am such a big football fan. I just love my Sooners.
I never got into football, except for my Sooners. I'm a "Crimson and Cream" gal. I love to watch them play. I always have. There is something about my team. I don't understand the game. In fact, it was just a few weeks ago I learned what "holding" was. I'm such a girl; they all seemed to "holding each other."
I think I regret not graduating from the University of Oklahoma. It was my dream to go there. I got a sweet deal from Smith my junior year in high school and that is where I ended up. Not exactly the college life most people dream of. No football Saturdays. No giant campus to get lost in, both literally and figuratively. I opted for the quiet campus without boys far from home and beloved Sooners. is amamazing what a great scholarship will entice one to do.
I did manage to pick up a few extra hours at OU after I graduated. It wasn't the same, but I was Sooner for 15 hours. I was a little too old for the "college life" by then, but I did have an active imagination. I lived that life in my mind as I sat in the OU library, watching the "youngsters" doing whatever they were doing.
Saturday wasn't the greatest day for me. The loss hit home, but not as close as the memories I have as well as the ones I don't have that I want. I thought about Barry Switzer on thfield, , leading the Sooners to anher vicictory. I thought about the homecomings I missed. I remembered sitting in the stands, screaming at the top of my lungs. I thought about that little garage apartment I lived in during college, in a state that didn't broadcast OU games. I dreamed of living in a crowded dorm with a bunch of girls.
There is next year. I may make that drive down I-35. I'll have to get to some more home games. Of course, I could always go back to get my Master's degree. Yeah right. I am done with school. Then again, my daughter will be looking for a college in about a dozen years or so.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Packing up and heading out with my parents down I-35 to watch the game as a child. That was back in the day. Back when Barry Switzer was the coach and the wishbone reigned supreme. We'd leave on Friday morning and make a week-end of it. Those days are gone, long gone.
I miss the ground game. The whole passing game is so boring. I want to see the action of ducking and dodging and running around. Watching the ball fly through the air isn't the same thing to me. Not that I am such a big football fan. I just love my Sooners.
I never got into football, except for my Sooners. I'm a "Crimson and Cream" gal. I love to watch them play. I always have. There is something about my team. I don't understand the game. In fact, it was just a few weeks ago I learned what "holding" was. I'm such a girl; they all seemed to "holding each other."
I think I regret not graduating from the University of Oklahoma. It was my dream to go there. I got a sweet deal from Smith my junior year in high school and that is where I ended up. Not exactly the college life most people dream of. No football Saturdays. No giant campus to get lost in, both literally and figuratively. I opted for the quiet campus without boys far from home and beloved Sooners. is amamazing what a great scholarship will entice one to do.
I did manage to pick up a few extra hours at OU after I graduated. It wasn't the same, but I was Sooner for 15 hours. I was a little too old for the "college life" by then, but I did have an active imagination. I lived that life in my mind as I sat in the OU library, watching the "youngsters" doing whatever they were doing.
Saturday wasn't the greatest day for me. The loss hit home, but not as close as the memories I have as well as the ones I don't have that I want. I thought about Barry Switzer on thfield, , leading the Sooners to anher vicictory. I thought about the homecomings I missed. I remembered sitting in the stands, screaming at the top of my lungs. I thought about that little garage apartment I lived in during college, in a state that didn't broadcast OU games. I dreamed of living in a crowded dorm with a bunch of girls.
There is next year. I may make that drive down I-35. I'll have to get to some more home games. Of course, I could always go back to get my Master's degree. Yeah right. I am done with school. Then again, my daughter will be looking for a college in about a dozen years or so.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Friday, October 16, 2009
Backseat Perspective
Off to Oklahoma City we went. Started much too early in the morning, but we had a big day planned and needed enough time to get everything finished.
My daughter was sitting in her car seat, buckled up properly and positioned in the middle of the seat. Still sleepy, she looked around the car as if she had never seen it before. Her Daddy and I were buckling ourselves up when we heard a sleepy voice from the backseat.
"That's something you don't see everyday," she quipped excitedly.
Still in our driveway, we were surprised by her comment. What could she possible see that she doesn't see every day of her life?
"What do you see?" I asked, looking around our front yard.
"I can see my breath," she answered. "It is all white and puffy."
Ah ha, proof that we are in the middle fall and well on our way to winter. It was a cool morning and, she was right, seeing your breath isn't something you see every day.
As home schooling parents, we jumped on this opportunity to explain condensation, weather and the different seasons. We happily made our way to OKC, teaching away.
Oklahoma is blessed to have four distinct seasons. I can't imagine living somewhere that doesn't. Autumn is my favorite of all seasons. It reminds me of getting ready for bed. Nature begin to slow down for its winter nap. The colors are spectacular. I love the different shades of orange, red, greens and brown. To me, the autumn sunsets are the best. The sky explodes all sorts of different colors and coordinates them with the colors of the leaves and grasses.
"Momma, look at the trees," she said, pointing at the multi-leaved trees. "They weren't all different colors last time. The sap must be getting cold."
Yes, she was paying attention. We had just explained how the leaves turned colors in the fall.
"Autumn is like spring," she explained. "We get to see all sorts of colors, not just green."
Right again.
Most people do not realize that Oklahoma has foliage. So be it our foliage isn't as pronounced as other places, but it is there. All you have to do take time to look for the beauty around you. It comes in all shapes, sizes and colors.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
My daughter was sitting in her car seat, buckled up properly and positioned in the middle of the seat. Still sleepy, she looked around the car as if she had never seen it before. Her Daddy and I were buckling ourselves up when we heard a sleepy voice from the backseat.
"That's something you don't see everyday," she quipped excitedly.
Still in our driveway, we were surprised by her comment. What could she possible see that she doesn't see every day of her life?
"What do you see?" I asked, looking around our front yard.
"I can see my breath," she answered. "It is all white and puffy."
Ah ha, proof that we are in the middle fall and well on our way to winter. It was a cool morning and, she was right, seeing your breath isn't something you see every day.
As home schooling parents, we jumped on this opportunity to explain condensation, weather and the different seasons. We happily made our way to OKC, teaching away.
Oklahoma is blessed to have four distinct seasons. I can't imagine living somewhere that doesn't. Autumn is my favorite of all seasons. It reminds me of getting ready for bed. Nature begin to slow down for its winter nap. The colors are spectacular. I love the different shades of orange, red, greens and brown. To me, the autumn sunsets are the best. The sky explodes all sorts of different colors and coordinates them with the colors of the leaves and grasses.
"Momma, look at the trees," she said, pointing at the multi-leaved trees. "They weren't all different colors last time. The sap must be getting cold."
Yes, she was paying attention. We had just explained how the leaves turned colors in the fall.
"Autumn is like spring," she explained. "We get to see all sorts of colors, not just green."
Right again.
Most people do not realize that Oklahoma has foliage. So be it our foliage isn't as pronounced as other places, but it is there. All you have to do take time to look for the beauty around you. It comes in all shapes, sizes and colors.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Watching It Slip Away
Yesterday, my family and I took a little day trip to Red Carpet Country. Drove a few hours simply to see what we could see. It is one of the many joys of living in Oklahoma; you can drive just a little ways and see completely different scenery.
It was an overcast day and the breeze was brisk, so we rolled the windows down to enjoy the fresh air. We turned off I-35 onto a smaller state highway. My daughter was busy pointing out all cows, trees and ponds. That quickly turned into the "Find The Color" game. She gives us a color and we have to look for it as we drive by.
Driving into the sunset is no fun for my husband, so we pulled onto the side of the road so we could turn around. It was time to go home anyway. Before we had a chance to head back, the sky became to fascinating to only see it in our rear mirror. We all got out of the car and sat on the hood of the car and watched the sky explode into all sorts of colors.
The wind was moving the clouds around and my daughter was awe-struck. We started pointing all to all the different shapes the clouds were making. This was a favorite game of mine as a child. Still is today.
I can sit for hours, watching the clouds. My imagination can come up with all sorts of different objects the clouds look like. My daughter, obviously related to me, began to do the same thing. She saw all sorts of things as the clouds swirled above us and the sun set in front of us.
"Momma, it looks like Ming-Ming," she giggled, pointing to a duck-shaped cloud. No matter where we go, The Wonder Pets from Nick Jr. are never too far away.
The colors in the sunset were amazing. Pinks, oranges, reds and blacks were mingled together. We leaned against the windshield of the car and watched the sun dipped below the horizon. The colors changed as the sun slipped away.
Cars passed by as we watched the sunset. I'm sure they wondered why this family was three was cuddled up on the hood of our car.
"Momma, I don't think they see what we see," my daughter said as one car went by. "If they could, they would have to stop. They are missing Jesus paint the sky."
Yes, they were missing that. They were also missing a great way to end a terrific "family day." I'm sure they had places to go and people to see; our lives are so busy now days. I hope they will be able to stop, like we did, and watch the sunset. I hope they are surrounded by people they love when they are able to stop. Those few moments we shared as the clouds swirled around us and the sun set are priceless to us.
Happy Oklahoma traveling.
Emma Riley Sutton
It was an overcast day and the breeze was brisk, so we rolled the windows down to enjoy the fresh air. We turned off I-35 onto a smaller state highway. My daughter was busy pointing out all cows, trees and ponds. That quickly turned into the "Find The Color" game. She gives us a color and we have to look for it as we drive by.
Driving into the sunset is no fun for my husband, so we pulled onto the side of the road so we could turn around. It was time to go home anyway. Before we had a chance to head back, the sky became to fascinating to only see it in our rear mirror. We all got out of the car and sat on the hood of the car and watched the sky explode into all sorts of colors.
The wind was moving the clouds around and my daughter was awe-struck. We started pointing all to all the different shapes the clouds were making. This was a favorite game of mine as a child. Still is today.
I can sit for hours, watching the clouds. My imagination can come up with all sorts of different objects the clouds look like. My daughter, obviously related to me, began to do the same thing. She saw all sorts of things as the clouds swirled above us and the sun set in front of us.
"Momma, it looks like Ming-Ming," she giggled, pointing to a duck-shaped cloud. No matter where we go, The Wonder Pets from Nick Jr. are never too far away.
The colors in the sunset were amazing. Pinks, oranges, reds and blacks were mingled together. We leaned against the windshield of the car and watched the sun dipped below the horizon. The colors changed as the sun slipped away.
Cars passed by as we watched the sunset. I'm sure they wondered why this family was three was cuddled up on the hood of our car.
"Momma, I don't think they see what we see," my daughter said as one car went by. "If they could, they would have to stop. They are missing Jesus paint the sky."
Yes, they were missing that. They were also missing a great way to end a terrific "family day." I'm sure they had places to go and people to see; our lives are so busy now days. I hope they will be able to stop, like we did, and watch the sunset. I hope they are surrounded by people they love when they are able to stop. Those few moments we shared as the clouds swirled around us and the sun set are priceless to us.
Happy Oklahoma traveling.
Emma Riley Sutton
Friday, October 2, 2009
2009 Oklahoma State Fair
I rolled myself home from the 2009 Oklahoma State Fair, full of all the "fair food" I could have eaten one day. Actually, I think I ate more than I could have in one day.
I was also packing memories that will last me a lifetime. Even without all the photos of the fair I took. I met some great folks, saw some great sites and had a terrific time. I would say "just like every year," but, somehow, it gets better every year.
I met Froggie. He is a member of "Bikers Against Child Abuse" (BACA) and a genuinely nice man. We talked as we watched my daughter on the carousel. He told me had just left court; he had been there helping a child that had been abused. I learned a lot about BACA as my daughter waved from her purple horse.
I saw the livestock that was about to be shown. I met a very sweet bull named "Sanddollar Charger" who stole my heart. I didn't know bulls could love having their pictures taken so much. He had to have known what a camera was because he really hammed it up for me. Hammed it up! He's a bull. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh so hard at my own "funnies."
The "nursery" was great. We say baby goats (triplets) that were two days old and piglets that were four days old. We watched a baby chick hatch. The three of us stood in awe as another life entered the world. My daughter announced she wants baby pigs to live in our house. That was when we knew it was time to go to the insect exhibit. The beehive was fascinating, but she didn't want one of those at home.
My husband dragged me and my daughter out of the petting zoo. I knew he would have to that. She loved the camel and thought he was much softer than the sheep. She and I are both curious why a kangaroo and a turtle shared living quarters. They got along great, but it was an unusual combination.
I rode all the rides. I even got on the swings with my daughter. I can ride any roller coaster, "spin in tight circles" ride and the "drop you millions of feet" rides, but I don't do well on the ones where my feet dangle. Strange, I know, but that is me. I need to have a "Zipper" installed in my backyard. I could ride that one forever.
Of course, there was the food. I won't tell you how many of each I had, but I overly-enjoyed all the stuff they had to offer. I would love to have the recipe for fried Oreos and fried Twinkies. Why they aren't a food group all to themselves is a mystery to me. You can't live without them. I did eat some healthy stuff as well. The turkey legs were great as was the corn on the cob.
Unfortunately, the fair is over for this year. It was much more fun than last year which was much more fun than the year before. I sincerely hope I never get to old for the fair. I don't see how.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
I was also packing memories that will last me a lifetime. Even without all the photos of the fair I took. I met some great folks, saw some great sites and had a terrific time. I would say "just like every year," but, somehow, it gets better every year.
I met Froggie. He is a member of "Bikers Against Child Abuse" (BACA) and a genuinely nice man. We talked as we watched my daughter on the carousel. He told me had just left court; he had been there helping a child that had been abused. I learned a lot about BACA as my daughter waved from her purple horse.
I saw the livestock that was about to be shown. I met a very sweet bull named "Sanddollar Charger" who stole my heart. I didn't know bulls could love having their pictures taken so much. He had to have known what a camera was because he really hammed it up for me. Hammed it up! He's a bull. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh so hard at my own "funnies."
The "nursery" was great. We say baby goats (triplets) that were two days old and piglets that were four days old. We watched a baby chick hatch. The three of us stood in awe as another life entered the world. My daughter announced she wants baby pigs to live in our house. That was when we knew it was time to go to the insect exhibit. The beehive was fascinating, but she didn't want one of those at home.
My husband dragged me and my daughter out of the petting zoo. I knew he would have to that. She loved the camel and thought he was much softer than the sheep. She and I are both curious why a kangaroo and a turtle shared living quarters. They got along great, but it was an unusual combination.
I rode all the rides. I even got on the swings with my daughter. I can ride any roller coaster, "spin in tight circles" ride and the "drop you millions of feet" rides, but I don't do well on the ones where my feet dangle. Strange, I know, but that is me. I need to have a "Zipper" installed in my backyard. I could ride that one forever.
Of course, there was the food. I won't tell you how many of each I had, but I overly-enjoyed all the stuff they had to offer. I would love to have the recipe for fried Oreos and fried Twinkies. Why they aren't a food group all to themselves is a mystery to me. You can't live without them. I did eat some healthy stuff as well. The turkey legs were great as was the corn on the cob.
Unfortunately, the fair is over for this year. It was much more fun than last year which was much more fun than the year before. I sincerely hope I never get to old for the fair. I don't see how.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
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