On Quail and Mud Bogs

Why yes, that is a strange topic, isn't it?

Just a couple of short things this morning...

Last night while the kids were brushing their teeth getting ready for bed, I was in the living room when Rog came running in. He wanted me to come tell him what kind of creature was in our backyard. Seriously? He is the native farmboy, I am merely a suburban transplant, yet he wants me to ID the thing in his backyard? So I go look out the playroom window and see something thrashing around on the ground on top of a mole hill, causing a mini dust storm. In just a couple seconds, my answer...birds...dust bath...looks like quail.  Not quite believing me, he opens the window a little and does a warbly bobwhite whistle. The two quail freeze, shake themselves off, and go on their way. Win.

And now for the mud bog portion. Do you even know what a mud bog is? I had never heard of one until I moved up here. And I come from Tennessee, one of the reddest* places on earth. Tonight is the last night of our county fair and thus, the mud bog is the evening's entertainment. Apparently, the whole purpose of the mud bog is to see who can drive their truck the farthest through a big mud hole in the middle of the grandstands. And amazingly, this is the busiest night at the fair. Also, the most entertaining night for people-watching. Sadly (and this is where a sarcasm font would be handy), I won't be attending the olde mud bog tonight. Rog will be there helping the other fair board guys keep things under control and I really have no desire to take three kids by myself. Can you blame me?

So I will leave you today with a picture of the boys at the fair earlier this week. Why no, I didn't remember to take pictures of my kids while we were there, shockingly enough. But a neighbor snapped this picture of them outside the hog barn and I think its cute.

*Am I the only person that uses the term "red" to refer not just to the color, but to categorize something as being a little on the redneck side of things? I think I may be.