At noon, we returned to the trailer to put our boy down for a nap, but he was too excited to sleep. At Elaine's recommendation, we went into Paso Robles for lunch at Big Bubba's Bad BBQ, a newfangled saloon with country music on the stereo and a mechanical bull in the corner.
It was a pulled-pork sandwich for me, baby back ribs for the big guy and bits of both our orders for the tot. Contrary to its name, Big Bubba's Bad BBQ served up some of the best I've ever had.
Paso Robles being the new Napa, we stopped at Eberle Winery -- one of many lining Highway 46 -- but Carpenter barely let us taste the wine, let alone take a tour of its caves. We made our Cabernet purchase quickly.
When we returned at 4 p.m., guests were just beginning to arrive for the birthday party. I feared we'd be intruding, but Elaine said we were welcome. The house was filled with 40 or so people by dinnertime, half of them kids younger than 10, all of them running around the yard, climbing trees and screaming.
Talk about kid friendly. Pinatas in the carport were followed with pizza and homemade Chinese food. At cake time, only half the kids sang "Happy Birthday." The rest stayed in the living room, break dancing to Toby Keith.
The rooster crowed again Sunday morning, but we didn't get up and dress until 8, at which time we breakfasted on fresh fruit, eggs and lox.
Like the day before, we fed the sheep, greeted the chickens and headed down the hill. This time, George arranged an up-close look at the largest tractor he owns: an enormous John Deere harvester. Surprisingly, Carpenter couldn't have cared less. Once the shed's doors were thrown open, he happened upon the joys of throwing loose straw. And that was that.
It was difficult to lure him away, but a nearby corral of neighing horses eventually drew him out. If we'd made arrangements, we could have gone horseback riding. Or hunting, for that matter.
But our main interests were tractors and cows, so that's where we went -- to a part of the farm that had tillers, backhoes and more farming equipment for our son to look at and touch, along with lots of grass to run around in. The cows, unfortunately, were grazing in a distant pasture, too muddy to get to by car. So on that count, our mission failed. Our son didn't know and wouldn't have cared if he did. He was in hog heaven.
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Life on the farm
Budget for three for this trip:
Lodging
