Every time I go on vacation I wonder why in the hiz-nell I live in Oklahoma.

Except when I go to Houston, or pretty much anywhere in Texas, or Florida, or Kansas, or Nebraska. But other than that, I just can't figure it out.

Case in point:

 My Uncle Breezy passing down the tradition of traumatizing children with his ghost stories. I loved listening to them as a kid and now my children can experience the thrilling sensation of being terrified and excited all at the same time. I love it.

 They are the same person. 

 Cassia Sparrow. The most fearless 5-year-old I know. She runs across gravel barefoot. My kids' city feet couldn't handle it. Weaklings.

 Mia was born for country life. I'm convinced she'll live way off the grid someday with nothing but her books and a few wild cats.

 This time Uncle Breezy taught the kids to gut their own fish. Mia wanted to save their hearts in a baggie. 

 The best thing about traveling with family? Free babysitting. (Actually, that's the best thing about family in general.)

 This vacation included both sides of the family, which was a double blessing. We met up with the Lashleys the second week.

 The only thing better than hiking with your bestie is not hiking with your bestie. The things I'll do for Darci...