Honky Strikes Again

Sunday night Wesley's phone rang.  It was the banker calling.  That is never a good sign. 

They spoke for several minutes and from my limited perspective of the conversation I could garner that a) we were not being foreclosed upon just yet, and b) we didn't have any cattle out and running across the roads. 

So.... what's left?

Good question.  As soon as they finished their conversation and hung up I began to quiz Wesley about the nature of this peculiar call.  As it turns out, we have a set of portable cattle pens.  They're pretty cool, kinda similar to the sets of fold-up pens that every single ranch kid in America has played with all their lives, only not on a six inch scale.  More like six foot.  These pens have wheels on them (hence the "portable" aspect) and can be unrolled and set up in roughly 15 minutes, perfect for working cattle in the middle of any pasture. 

Know what else they're good for?  Beer gardens. 

That's right, the banker man called to see if Wesley would set up his portable pens in the middle of the street, in the middle of town, for a portable beer garden during our town's annual festival.  Apparently a beer garden is not official until you have defined boundaries set up.  And you know us, always on the right side of official. 

As I stated in an earlier post, we don't try to be honky, it just happens. 

And yes, I will take pictures.