My grandparents live outside of Tulsa, OK on Keystone Lake. Everyone just calls their house and land "the country."
"Where ya goin'?" "The country." And the whole family knows you're talking about my grandparents house.
We've spent the last two afternoons at their dock, trying to make fishermen out of the kids. My aunt and uncle were there fishing the first day. They were kind enough to let us interrupt their serious fishing for an hour or so and continually help bait hooks, untangle fishing line, and try to convince two city boys it was really okay to hold a fish by sticking your thumb in it's mouth. (They only had to work to convince the eldest. My middle born was pretty fearless.) The boys each caught some perch and small bass. Lauryn mostly just sat on my lap and protested when the fish got too close to her, and let out one blood curdling scream when a locust brushed by her hand. For the rest of the day she told me every two minutes "a spider got my hand!" We have some work yet to do with her. You can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the girl.
Awww, cute pictures!
I always protest when fish come to close to me too.