Fried Bolgna and Bigfoot

We took off Saturday afternoon on a hunt for the elusive Bigfoot of Honobia, OK (that's Ho-nubby in case you're wondering...I would be wondering). Okay, not really...we went and hung out at the Bigfoot Festival for the funnel cakes, fried ding dongs(Matthew's choice), fried oreos (my choice), and the cool craft booths. AND...I took some pictures cuz I know there are people out there who are thinkin', "WHAT? A festival in honor of something no one has ever seen? Seriously?" Seriously.

See? THAT is "Bigfoot, The Drawing". I made Tracker pose so the full effect of the size of these creatures would be apparent. I sure had high hopes for seein this thing in person so I could put my skeptical mind to rest. I left a skeptic, still, but a skeptic who was on a sugar and nacho cheese high, at least. Oh well, there's always next year I reckon. Oh! P.S. The fried oreos? Not so hot. Soggy, grease soaked, and MESSY. No more for me.

I toured the smallest post office in America:

Took about 20 seconds, tops!

I did get to sit and hold my brand new nephew for a good long while tho. Okay, not brand new, he's 3 weeks old and this week was the first time I'd seen him. Bad, BAD Aunt Krista. I love babies who smell like pink baby lotion...it reminds me of bein' 17 and thinkin' my newborn baby girl needed like, 6 baths a day. (Poor lil sparkling-clean thing.) Nacona is the new addition's name but Josh and Tracker keep callin him Casper... it has stuck. Ugh. I'd be offended if it was my kid. My sister-in-law has a better sense of humor than I. Their oldest son's name is Jaspur and when Jaspur came over to tell us about his new baby brother, he TOLD us his name was Casper (in his four year old mind, it rhymed therefore, it must be.) I thought, "SURELY not. Surely." Ya just never know anymore...shoulda' seen the looks I got over Tracker!! So, Nacona cured my baby longings for now. She changed that kid's diaper too many times in too small a time frame for me to NOT get it cured.

When we'd seen all of Bigfoot we cared to, listened to all the off-key singin' we could stand to, and ate more than we should have been able to, we headed back outta the mountains. We stopped by the only little store in town before we left and I couldn't resist takin' a picture of their sign.

Appropriate, I reckon. See the little bigfoot footprint border (try sayin THAT 10 times fast)????? Too funny. We advertise our tendency to be a little backward around these parts.



Hillbillies, bigfoot...what's next? Why, Fried Bologna (bolonie, if you will) sandwiches, of course. This little store/cafe was PACKED with out-of-towners wantin' fried bolonie on bread. I couldn't believe it and suppressed a giggle. Poor man's bacon, that's what I call it....and we ate it plenty when I was growin up. I wouldn't pay someone to make me one, that's for sure...heck, I wouldn' take one for FREE. Blech! I still remember what it smells like fryin and how ya had to slice it like a four leaf clover just so it'd lay down in the pan flat. But, hey...if the bigfoot researchers wanna try out the local Hillbilly specialty and pay $4.75 for it & a mini bag of Lay's...who am I to laugh? Least I'll know what pulls em in if I ever decide to open a cafe.



I looked thru the racks of tee shirts while I was in there, and then the bumper stickers..."I Brake For Bigfoot", the action figures (yes, seriously, Bigfoot dolls), hats, home decor, and decided that I couldn't leave without SOME sort of souvenier.


So, I got me a watermelon flavored, bigfoot sucker and hit the highway. I tried to take some pix of the awesome scenery as we were on the top of the mountain and then on the way back down but my cell phone takes really crappy pictures....really crappy. I did manage to get this shot:

We slowed down, just in case. Hey, better safe than sorry, that's my philosophy! Well, one of them anyway.