Date Night

 

My "date" gettin' the gate for me...

My “date” gettin’ the gate for me…

 

Clint and I had a *date night* over the weekend.

With as far out as we live and as tired as we tend to be after a day of horses and chores, our date nights usually consist of a movie on the couch that needs to start early enough so we can still be in bed by 9:30. (I know, I know, party animals, right?)

The girls are still living it up in the South right now, so we could leave when we wanted and come home when we felt like it. We had the evening feeding covered by one of the few people willing to brave it out here (thank you to our good friend, Jerry!).

Now, remember, we never waste a town trip, so we hauled a horse along with us on our two-hour trip to town to meet up with an owner.

We had big plans to go out to a fancy dinner after our errands. You know, drop the horse at the fairgrounds, the bank, the post office, a couple of feed stores and groceries.

We had even entertained the idea of a movie. Not a kid movie – any movie we wanted! But, alas, we knew there was no way we could go to dinner and then a nine o’ clock movie and still drive the two hours home.

*Because we’re old.*

*And we’re tired.*

So, we passed up the fancy restaurant and sneaked in some fabulous orange chicken – #bigpursesareablessing – into the movies.

We saw the new Ghostbusters movie. We laughed, we ate boot-legged orange chicken, and finally rolled in through the ranch gate at midnight.

Oh yeah, midnight.

And then, we were in much need of a Sunday afternoon nap to make up for our wild, late night.

*Because we’re old.*

*And we’re tired.*

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