Saturday, April 20, 2013

Best Advice Ever

I asked my Pops how to use a circular saw.

His reply, "Keep your fingers out of the way."

Well, after finding where the hell the safety was, I did it. A little nervous at first... but it got done.

A few cuts made, a few screws put in with my handy-dandy mini drill... and bada-bing-bada-boom. 

Project done.

And, all my fingers are still here.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Memories of Dirt, Sun, Work Gloves and Wranglers

I don't know what it is, but the country life has been on my mind a lot lately. I don't know if it is all the yard work, how broken in my work gloves are getting, the sun, this time of year.... I don't know why, but memories are hitting hard lately, and it's hard not to get sentimental.

Tonight I watched the last 20 minutes of the Academy of Country Music Awards and Garth Brooks sang The Dance.... immediately I was whisked back to that El Paso County Fair -- Friday night dance. I think I snuck in because I was too young; and before I knew it I was pelvis to pelvis with Tim Ellison two-stepping around the big event tent, the smell of dirt and beer hung heavy.... and I was on cloud 9.

Let's be honest. That boy could dance, his hat was big, he was tough, he was the King of the 4Hers and I was more than happy to be pressed up against him all night. Eat your heart out girls.

Songs like this.... memories come every time.... Strawberry Wine. Makes me close my eyes and smile by the very first chord.

It makes me think of all the memories I had with friends, animals and family. All the shit I had to deal with, literally. All the crazy days of weigh-ins when none of the animals were truly halter-broke and were dragging us around and getting out of pens left and right. Denting brand new pickups and hiding under cop cars. Wow.... now THAT should have been a reality show.

Makes me think of sneaking into the camper grounds and how "forbidden" things were. Oh the days of being a teenager again.

I remember selling my 4H animals, and how Damon and Derek Glover would take my animals to the slaughter truck for me so that I didn't have to. Just coming back to the barn and seeing the empty halter wrapped up neatly and sitting on my tack box would make be sob every time.

Then the water fight that always happened on the last day of fair. The wet wranglers, soggy roper boots and dirty water buckets. The screams and hugs. The day we all said bye and packed up trailers for home. 

Those were good days. Those were the nights memories were made. Such a different lifestyle than now. Part of me misses it. I often wonder if I want to live that life again.... life would be different. It's something I couldn't do alone.... but.... it makes me wonder.

I want to write a book. It's on my bucket list to write a book, but I've never known about what.... the more I think about country life and my experiences there the more I realize that might just be it.

Gleaning steer food from the nearby dairy farm, collecting it in old trash cans to take home for my steer. Sitting in the pig barn at fair and slapping wrangler patches with the pig bats, but only on the boys you wanted to flirt with. Learning that baby pigs are literally born running. Doing chores in blizzards so bad you had to follow ropes to get from barn to barn. Laying in bed and listening to coyotes, hoping they aren't as close to the barn as they sound. Staying up all night dressing out a pig that unexpectedly croaked. Wow, the list goes on and on and on.

We could talk about this for days, and maybe some day we will. Until then, let's be grateful for pandora and all the memories it can bring with just the first few chords of an old country song.... and maybe one day I'll find a man who can two-step. Then the world will be right once again.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Bed Hog

It took three years, but it has finally happened.

I woke up the other morning and realized that I was smack dab in the middle of my queen size bed.

Three years ago I was back to sleeping by myself, but for some reason I always still slept on my side of the bed. Porter has enjoyed having a side of the bed all to his chihuahua self... but no longer little guy. For some reason three years has been the magic number, and I have taken over once again.

It took me by suprise a bit, but has also made me really content. Until you've been there I'm not sure you will ever understand. Just like that semi-annoying Taylor Swift song....

Until you have made the epic mistake of being under someone's thumb, you will never understand the true elation of realizing that you have freed yourself of it.

It has taken a long time, probably still will for other small battles.... but in some strange way I'm grateful for the lesson... and due to that I've learned that I can't keep my mouth shut about it.

I work with so many young women who need to understand this, that need to understand that even the strongest of women can get stuck here, that it is something that needs to be fought against, and that they aren't alone....

So here we are, supporting each other and being sooooo incredibly stoked to once again be a self-proclaimed