Based on first impressions, Lawton and the surrounding area aren't so bad...although I was right about the flat part. So much land...and so much sky! And our condo is amazing! I'll write more about it and post some pictures once it's been decorated up a bit. Spike and I moved the living room furniture around tonight...so maybe a trip to Ross in the near future for curtain rods and the like? We shall see.
For now, I feel that I need to devote this blog post to the outing the Captain and I took yesterday after church. It centered around Meers, an unassuming (read: dilapidated) restaurant that Spike has raved about. Meers is one of those buildings that you imagine was built piece by piece, room by room as the need arose. Some of the floors slope, and the steps in between the different levels aren't even. Actually, it looks rather like a disreputable biker bar. But you don't go there for the architecture. You go there for the burgers.
The first time Spike described Meers' burgers to me--I kid you not--his voice got hoarse, his eyes rolled back in his head and I thought he might swoon. Luckily, he didn't, as I'm not sure I'm strong enough to catch him. You see, Meers' claim to fame is that its burgers are 100% delicious Texas Longhorn beef, and that they're huge. In those regards, Meers didn't disappoint. I photodocumented the experience for posterity.
"We're going to Meers!" the Captain exclaims. "YEAHHHHH!!! Do you see it? It's RIGHT HERE!! The anticipation is almost too much for me to handle!
"My food is here," the Captain snarls between clenched teeth as he attempts to smile for the camera. "Hurry up and take the picture, woman! I need to sink my teeth into this delicious piece of longhorn! I am a manly meat-eater and I NEED TO EAT!"
As you can see, Spike's burger was...large. Almost as big as the pie plate it was served in. Apparently there is one size bigger...a Seismic burger. Alas, I have a tiny girl stomach, and only ordered the quarter-pounder. Still, my tiny girl stomach was satisfied, and I'm pretty sure I walked out with a food baby named Jim Bob.
I signed our names in the guest book. Maybe a little differently than they're printed on our birth certificates. Maybe.
"Eeeeuuuuurrgh," groans the Captain. It's definitely a good groan. His giant man-stomach is satisfied. "Full of lots of deliciousness," he adds as he watches me type this. No worries, though--it didn't take him long to get peckish again.
There was a donkey outside of Meers. I'm trying to imitate it. Here's the conversation that occurred while this picture was being taken:
Spike: "Be careful. More people are killed every year by donkeys than by cancer."
Me: "You sure about that?"
Spike. "90% sure. Yes."
So...watch out for donkeys, folks. Luckily, I escaped with my life. Obviously. Since I'm, you know, writing this blog post.After our lovely longhorn lunch, the Captain drove me though the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, which took me by surprise in terms of its beauty. Yes, there are mountains here, rising from the plains. As we drove, Spike and I saw bison in the distance, as well as a longhorn steer (maybe he'll be our lunch later this year) and a colony of prairie dogs. "Did you know that snipers use prairie dogs for target practice?" the Captain asked me. Well, no--but I do now. If you know any prairie dogs, tell them not to come here.
We eventually spiraled our way to the top of Mount Scott, which offers incredible views. I definitely plan on coming here again.
Great Scott! The Butters duo on Mount Scott.