Hay! Hay! Hay! Merry Christmas!

What could be better than a hayride in the country at Christmastime? Cuz treated those of us brave enough to withstand a wind-chill factor of -4 to a wagon tour of his eye-pleasing acreage and a chance to get up close and personal with his cows. The hay was quite comfortable - not the thick, scratchy kind - and if we'd had a few blankets and several flasks of brandy, it would've been absolutely perfect. It was pert-near perfect, even without the blankets and booze.

Here's Cuz on the tractor, patiently waiting as we decide who's going, who's staying, and where those who are going will sit. At least he has the hat for it.

Before the hayride: I call this shot "It Takes a Village (to Dress Tallulah for the Hayride)." Note her one pink/one purple Crocs. As her mother Amy said, some battles just aren't worth fighting! Amen.

Baby Elliott finds the ride conducive to napping. He could barely keep his little eyes open as we rumbled along.

Ah, the cows. They even mooed for us. They're just standing around waiting for their parts in the Nativity play, I reckon.

While Cuz used some of our "sittin' hay" to feed his cattle, the hayriders tried to stay warm in the stiff breeze.

And homeward we trundled, up the dirt road to warm our bones and regal the weenies - er, rest of the family - with tall tales of our Christmas hayride.


Thanks, Cuz, for a truly memorable experience!