I am very sorry that I have been lacking in the postcard department. I am the type of otter that keeps to a schedule and FREAKS OUT if I don’t do what I need to do. It makes me all sort of fainting.
There has been so much going on in life (as well as being sick…which stinks…) that my body has informed me that I need a vacation. Mr. C. Cow has already built me a pillow fort to rule over. Marslean has made me so much soup that I am not sure if I can soup anymore. Bishop kissed my forehead, put his hard hat back on (after giving me a hat tip salute), and went off to do what polar bears do. I am VERY lucky to have loved ones who care about me.
So…on polar bear/cow/pony/maybe doctor orders we will be back with new postcards on (Looks at a calendar she snuck in without anyone noticing she was doing some sort of work thing)…..Tuesday Sept. 26th.
Thank you all for reading….please come back…hahaha. No…seriously…we appreciate all of you that receive our postcards and keep coming back for more of our adventures. Mr. C. Cow told me that I need to start taking care of myself and I am going to follow his orders. He might not be a real doctor (although he does own a doctor costume for Halloween) but he’s right. Health should come first.
See you on the 26th.
We wanted to wish everyone a wonderful holiday!
Yesterday Mr. C. Cow had an accident while wrapping presents. It’s nothing serious. He just got wrapped up in tape. It started with him attempting to hold the tape with his mouth and ended with his tongue getting all taped up along with the rest of him. The only thing that was hurt was his pride.
The holiday season is a busy time for us. We park the camper at home and like to help out Bishop at the equipment company. I type stuff & organize tires into giant pyramids. Mr. C. Cow wears a hard hat and randomly yells out construction lingo. Bishop seems grateful for the extra help but doesn’t seem to like it when we try jousting with forklifts.
Because the holiday season is so busy we’ll be taking a short vacation from our postcards.
Oh no! Don’t cry! Postcards will resume on schedule Tuesday January 3rd 2017.
Gives us time to do the whole tinsel present thing and buy postcard stamps.
Happy Holidays Everyone! May your days be merry and bright!
P.S. – We might go to a New Years Eve party this year. If we do we’ll be sure to share pictures!
When out and about in this world it is always important to pay attention to safety signs. One might tell you to watch your step while another one might tell you that using your tongue to gage the potency of a battery is bad.
No matter where we go there are signs everywhere. Mr. C. Cow and I were at a pond the other day talking to a goose and there was a sign warning us of giant lizard like creatures that could eat us. The goose just laughed at the sign and said that in all her years she had never seen anything stomp around the pond or eat an airplane. There was a frightening looking set of bones next to the sign but we think they might be fake. I don’t think that any creature in this world have bones made out of plastic.
We did happen upon one sign in particular that informed us of the dangers of falling rocks. As the rocks started to fall we felt they looked more like the largest, most delicious potatoes to ever try to kill someone from the side of a mountain. If you were to try to peel those babies it would have to be the largest and most comical peeler to ever grace the world. If you took one super potato and mashed it you could probably feed everyone in the state of Pennsylvania. If you made fries from them there would be a ketchup shortage.
Now I really want giant french fries. Hope we see a sign for those.
Location: Crater Lake (M)
Once upon a time there was a cow that wanted to eat a magical rose SO bad that he couldn’t help himself. They knew that they would possibly feel some sort of animated cookware wraith if they attempted to nibble on one single petal but didn’t care. Each rose petal looked like it could be simmered in a broth made from mushrooms and other various earthy ingredients. This cow watched too many cooking shows in their spare time.
We actually stumbled upon some sort of magical castle today. I wouldn’t have even noticed it when we drove by if it wasn’t for the moo-ing from the passenger seat. Mr. C. Cow has this…thing…about castles that make you think of princesses fighting dragons to save the prince from their doom.
Princesses don’t need saviors. We can be the saviors and save ourselves!
The castle was so pretty and reminded me of the stories I had heard in my childhood so we decided to stop and take a look. Lucky for us the castle was open to all visitors as long as we weren’t rude during our visit. It was like being thrust into a fairytale! Mr. C. Cow found a knights helmet and put it on to feel like the protector of those who lived here. I practiced my sword fighting and pretended to fight off the enemy who was knocking on the castle doors. The whole experience made us feel like kids again.
In our youth we build castles from pillows and blankets. We fight battles against stuffed dragons with our cardboard swords. We swear to protect those we love from the monsters our minds create. As adults we tend to drift away from these “silly ideas”. Sometimes a trip to a magical castle with your best cow pal reminds you that, no matter how old you are, sometimes you need to believe in something.
Location: Enchanted Castle (M)
Found a bing today that actually had a veggie burger dragged through Wisconsin. Mr. C. Cow was able to order a lovely coke pie and a hot blond in the sand. The soup jockey was really nice to us and didn’t seem to mind that someone (I’m not saying who) kept putting his hoofs on the table. At least that not named individual remembered to wear a bib. I made sure we left a really large tip. Didn’t want to be a George Eddy.
Since we had been driving for hours that day I thought it was only fair to put a few coins in the jukebox for Mr. C. Cow so he could do a bit of dancing. I sat at the counter and had a beetles blood with a ball of fire. One of the barn stormers came over and did a bit of the ol’ jitterbug with the little cow. This might be the first time I’ve ever seen someone with hoofs jitterbug.
When the music was over and before I found my back teeth afloat I paid the bank and waved goodbye to all of the base runners. I did have to promise Mr. C. Cow that if we were ever back that way again I would let him try the mama on a raft. He sure is a bean buster!
Location: The Diner (M)
If You Want To Figure Out All That Diner Speak We Used Then Check Out The Website “Diner Lingo“! I italicized all of the lingo for easy reference.
Mr. C. Cow was just a drugstore cowboy. Always looking for a dolled up dame with nice gams.
Tipsy was out giving the bum rush to some hood causing trouble at the juice joint.
Today we visited a private investigators office to figure out what happen to Mr. C. Cow’s apple pie. A detective made the lil cow feel better about finding out who swiped the pie. It made me constantly want to speak in 1920’s slang.
The pie had been cooling on the camper window when it went missing. All that was left was a few crumbs and a brown feather. There are three things in this world that can make a cow cry uncontrollably. Soap operas, missing baked goods, and finding go-go boots that will fit a cow hoof. The crying lasted for hours and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s how we ended up with me speaking in 1920’s slang in an investigators office.
The detective was very understanding and wiped away those sad cow tears. While I read a magazine they deducted that the pie was stolen by Mr. C. Cow’s duck friend “Quackers”. Quackers had an issue with food boundaries and had been getting help for quite sometime. Looks like Quackers had fallen off the wagon! There was much apologizing, forgiving, and promising of future pies.
I wonder if this is the first time this detective has had to deal with missing pies, cows, ducks, and an otter speaking 1920’s slang.
Location: Alva Investigations (M)
Stopped at a carry out today to pick up some extra toilet paper and gum balls for Mr. C. Cow. Gum balls help to prevent him from chewing on door knobs. The extra toilet paper is because my lil cow thought it would be humorous to pretend to be a mummy. We now know that it takes a twenty-four pack of toilet paper to cover an entire cow.
We got the gum balls for Mr. C. Cow and I managed to find an apple amongst the candy bars and dried meat sticks wrapped in plastic. The lil cow wanted a dried meat stick but I had to explain to him what was in them. I think he might have to sleep with a little farm animal night light for a while after that traumatizing experience.
Friends don’t let friends eat dried meat sticks that could possibly contain other friends.
Location: Marina Gas And Bait (M)
Well I woke up this morning and looked through the door. I saw Mr. C. Cow asleep on the floor.
Greetings postcard buddies! Nothing gets you ready to rock more then a giant statue of “The King” next to a pink car. Today we decided to hit up a museum dedicated to music. At first I was a little worried about going into a museum that had guitars floating on top of water. That seems a little electrical shock/death/danger to me. I guess that’s just how you’re suppose to “rock”.
I couldn’t stop laughing when I finally turned around from staring at those guitars and saw what Mr. C. Cow decided was proper “rock” attire. He had put on a long wig, a headband, fringe boots, and some sort of sequin sparkle vest thing. Mr. C. didn’t seem to notice my laughter as he added a giant pair of sunglasses to his ensemble. When one is in the “rock zone” it seems that you’re too cool to notice ones laughter.
The museum did make me feel a tad bit more educated on how to make my life a little less square. I can now successfully air guitar, rock scream, and hold a lighter in the air without burning myself. If Mr. C. Cow lets me borrow his sunglasses then maybe I have a chance at being cool.
Location: SL Rock N Roll Musuem (M)
I don’t think that campers were meant to climb steep hills. I’m always afraid we’re either going to start rolling backwards or flip over. Mr. C. Cow recommended that we put “spider tires” on the camper. I had to ask what they were and he explained that they have a sticky grip that allows you to combat the grade and even drive up a wall. According to the lil cow they are endorsed by a super hero. I don’t have the heart to tell him they don’t exist.
The safety sign next to the road didn’t fill me with confidence. Why does it look like someone drove a GIANT PENCIL through the cars windshield? Why is that car driving over a triangle? Am I in danger of oversized writing utensils hitting my camper? Will I be impaled if I try to drive over a triangle? Will a super hero come and save me only to throw me off the edge of a cliff because I didn’t believe in “spider tires”?
I sure hope we live to send everyone another postcard!!
Location: Magellans Pass (M)
Cows and wine don’t mix. If it looks like grape juice and tastes like grape juice to the refined cow palate then it must be grape juice. Explaining that it isn’t juice but wine just doesn’t register to a cow. If you explain that it is alcoholic grape juice then you are able to get them to not drink as much. Kinda.
When I started to see rows and rows of grapes then I knew that, hidden somewhere, had to be a place that served wine. Finding one that also has a cheese platter is a bonus. We were lucky enough to find both. Nothing makes you feel fancier then drinking wine outdoors, eating cheese, and discussing your villa on the coast. I don’t own a villa on the coast but it makes me sound important if I talk about one.
I was able to get Mr. C. Cow to lay off of the “alcoholic grape juice” and eat a bit of food. Having a sick cow in the back of a camper just spells “visit to the auto detailer”. I’m not exactly sure though that eating an entire jar of jam is going to help out.
Maybe I should start carrying around juice in a fancy bottle and swap them out when we run into a winery. Shh….don’t tell Mr. C.
Location: Merryman Winery (G)