April in Arkansas.

Dad's not wrong. the sunsets really do look like this on top of the mountain

and the ol' (new) homestead has a great big porch for enjoying them. And plenty of cold beer in the fridge, if you're willing to ignore the fact that much of it is Natty Light. And Mom's homemade pizza.

The trip there is usually fraught with disaster, though, and this one was no different. It included an overnight at an EconoLodge in Charlotte for Seth and the kids, who left a couple days early for turkey hunting and Ana & Ata time; followed by a flight change to Springfield, rental car SNAFUs, and a midwestern road trip. Then nine hours in the Dallas airport, multiple arrival airport changes, and no luggage for me, thanks to dreadful weekend weather. (Seth correctly points out that at least I had a Centurion Lounge, a far cry from the accommodations the kids and he shared.)

F+F were none the worse for the wear, happy to sport borrowed raingear

and catch snowflakes (!!) on their tongues one day;

swim with decoy turkeys in buckets in the driveway the next.

Classic Arkansas.
The nightmare travel was all worth it for 48 hours with Missy,

Mom's cinnamon rolls,

the bedtime stories of my childhood,

and getting to see these guys turkey hunt with Dad.

The Walters Fam has a knack for squeezing an impossible amount of fun into a small amount of time, and this trip was no exception. We walked miles of Mom & Dad's land and chased down the neighbor's cows,

birdwatched like it was our job (I love this picture of Ata & Ford looking for towhees),

drove the John Deere,

 "sneaked" on turkeys

and made our traditional pilgrimage to the always-charming Terra Studios, home of the bluebird of happiness.

When the weather took a turn for the beautiful, Missy and I discovered that Mom & Dad had been holding out on us with the stunning and uncrowded Horsehead Lake, where we paddled, fished,

acted weird,

roasted hot dogs and marshmallows,

and caught F+F playing with champagne bottles

and had them hold our beer. (And by "our," I mean "mine.") (And in my defense, I just needed to push us off from the shore.) (And to be honest, he spilled it.)

Also, Missy and I followed Mom's advice and nearly went over the dam, and Finley went swimming in all of her clothes. Twice.

While Seth & Missy did what they do best. Managed to catch fish riggghhhht when it was time to clean up.

Missy the travel trooper's weekend fly-in was really a turn-and-burn, and we loved every precious second. The Niemans had an extra day in the Natural State with Ana & Ata, and we spent it, Arkansas-style, in the creek.

April in Arkansas is a great time, and we loved every second of the much-needed family downtime in a place that may be hard to get to but is easy to relax in. Hard to pick a favorite picture, but this silly one of warm weather driveway fun is a fave,

and so is Finley on the tire swing, dressed like a minature Cabela's model.

The real classic, though, includes truck cider on the way to the lake (which exploded everywhere) while Ford sings his favorite song "Drink in My Hand." No kidding.

Yee-haw. Until next April, Arkansas. That's the new jam.