I am bilungual

Are you super impressed and jealous that I indeed know two languages?  One is English, the other is sarcasm.  Up until now I had wondered if it could be considered more of a dialect because technically its still the same English words that you are speaking.... But considering the events of last weekend I don't think that is the case any longer. 

I like to drive horses that pull wagons, buggies, plows, whatever.  I enjoy it very much and I have done this my entire life.  I would also like to think that just by looking at me, one might be able to tell that I have indeed driven more than one wagon, one time in my life. 

Last Friday night I was asked to drive a wagon during the grand entry of a local rodeo and haul the Rodeo committee's chairman and vice-chairman around.  No problemo.  Not only did I haul them around, I was in the arena a few more times hauling barrels for the barrel racing both in and out.  Again, no problemo. 

After the rodeo ended that evening, a local woman who I thought had a fairly good grasp on the fact that this was a normal occurrence for me, I enjoy outdoor activities, I am my father's only son, etc.,  asked, "Oh my, you did a good job with driving that big ol' horse!  How did you learn to do that?"

To which I replied, "Well, I watched a couple of videos on the internet this afternoon and it looked simple enough.  I'm glad it went alright!" 

Her very eager, very serious reply?  "Oooooh - I need to watch those too!"

I just waiting for that rumor to make it around town and finally get back to me.  That's me, master you-tube-video-watcher. 

Let's synchronize our watches...

Now that I have the J-O-B, I'm not there for the little girls as much as I used to be.  We don't get those long walk/runs every morning, and lots of our quality time in general has been compromised.  I'm a sucky pseudo dog parent.  Laurie really misses getting her toenails painted, but that's another story for another day...

Anyhoo, every morning I drive away with two little angelic faces waving goodbye and wishing me well for the day.  99% of my evenings I also pull into the drive to see two angelic faces eagerly waiting my arrival and asking how my day went. 

Earlier this week as I drove home at my usual time, I got a call from the in-laws, telling me that the girls had been at their place during the afternoon...... and that they were at their place (perhaps a few miles away) almost every afternoon.  Whoopsidaisies. 

I drove thataway to pick them up.  Pull into the drive, no girls.  No girls anywhere.  I called and called for them, all to no avail.  I had finally given up and started on my drive home, where lo-and-behold, two little girls were trotting down the road, frantically trying to make it back in time to undoubtedly meet me for their unwritten 5:45 curfew.  Whew. 

Same scenario.  I got home tonight a bit early after a few afternoon appointments.  I pulled into the drive and it looked like a ghost town.  No Walmart-esque greeters waiting for me eagerly.  Bummer. 

Lo and behold, at 5:45 I opened up the kitchen door into the shop and looked down to find two angelic faces staring back up at me. 

"Where have you been?" I asked the guilty parties, to which I received the smart-alecky reply, "What you talkin' bout, Willis?"

I keep trying to explain to Wesley that if we got the girls some sort of bluetooth/cellphone/intercom system at the house that I could call and let everyone know when I was going to get home.  Thus far I have been veto'ed by the boss man.  Stay tuned to see if we can get him outvoted...

Random thoughts and oddities

*First off, everyone knows that snakes are evil.  I mean, the devil was one in the Bible for pete's sake.  That being said, if one were to beat a snake to death with a shovel on her parent's veranda while her puppies were watching and she was screaming bloody murder..... Hypothetically, if a snake is to come back and haunt me for the rest of my days, what sort of life form to you believe it would take on?  Discuss and get back with me.  I'm tired of looking over my shoulder for I-don't-know-what. 

*Next subject, (sorry I'm so random today), my family is getting really good at thinking of humorous times in our past and saying, "Blog that."  This is one of those times. 

Wesley and I got married a few years ago, and it was quite a time.  Most people were 'feeling no pain' that night, but definitely the next morning.  Of course, when in a 'feeling no pain' state of mind, the genius starts to flow.  Cough, cough.  

My friend from college, Corey, met Wesley's friend from home, also Corey, that night at our reception.  This was a mind-boggling experience for them.  Two Corey's.  Wooooooowwwwwww. 

The two Corey's approached my older sister, their arms around each others shoulders like they were long lost comrades.  They explained their predicament to Kara. 

"Help us out here.  MY name's Corey, HIS name's Corey........ so who's in charge?!" 

Which immediately prompted her reply, "Oh my goodness - neither one of you.  Ever." 

So now when I tell a story involving either one of the Corey's I cease to provide a last name.  I now say something along the lines of... "I saw Corey the other day.  You know, Corey-Corey who's in charge?"  And then I watch as my family members nod their heads in a collective understanding.  This can't be normal, right?

New Sewing Machines!

I love woodworking and especially refinishing old furniture.  Its very tactile.  The progression, the change and the results are very visible.  It is a great way for me to relieve stress.  That, and I get to play with power tools.  Its something that I absolutely love. 

My dad went to an auction recently and bought several large, crucial woodworking tools for me.  Enough to fill an entire two-wheeled trailer.  Mom and Dad brought them up to me a few weekends ago.  As we were unloading them I may have perhaps acted a bit giddy.  Walking on sunshine.  On cloud nine.  My mom just couldn't understand it and voiced her concerns. 

I believe it was my dad who finally said, "Pretend they're like sewing machines."  This immediately changed her tune. 

"Oooooooh!  You got new toys!" she cried.

Not even close, Mom.  Way cooler.  But thanks for trying. 

Reality Check

I have this image in my mind of the perfect yard, somewhat of a cross between the Ponderosa on "Bonanza" and the yard on "The Brady Bunch" (even if that was astro-turf).  I'd love it if my yard could rank among these, expertly landscaped and beautifully manicured.

I've even worked out some rough sketches of how and where I'd like to create some lovely rock-gardeny type spots in our yard next to the road.  I can see it now.  Some taller sunflowers in the back, maybe some hollyhocks scattered in too.  Perhaps on the left hand side there would be a tall rock with our brand on it.  Lower down I'd have wildflowers scattered around in and amongst the rocks, and at the very bottom I'd have sweet potato vines that cascaded over the small, 6-inch tall rock retaining wall.  Sounds lovely, right?

Lets review.

In the past twelve months......

*A cattle truck has backed the entire length of the truck and trailer along my mailbox, scratching the rig and swiveling my mailbox.

*A hired man has backed into my mailbox, and now you have to reach waaaaaaay out of your vehicle window to grab the mail.

* Cattle trucks drive through my yard and driveway to turn around and back into the pens to load cattle.

* Pickups and trailers get parked across my entire yard to create 'wings' and temporary fencing strategies for keeping cattle out of my yard when we're driving them.

* Horses run through my yard during shipping season more than grasshoppers do the entire rest of the year.

* There are enough bones in my yard to re-assemble several sorts of Frankenstein-type calves.

* .....Annnnnnnnnd finally, this morning when calves were shipped from our place and for the third time this season I had two hundred or so calves running through my yard, I finally conceded that perhaps I should give up my dream of ever having a nice yard, complete with an attractive, functioning mailbox, astro-turf and all... Sigh....

Horses in Heaven

I have a buddy, Cash, who is six years old and after Friday's events I think that he's got everything in life pretty well figured out.  Better than myself at least. 

Cash walked up to my desk and got a piece of candy (yeah, I got a J-O-B, but more on that another day). 

Me: Hey, Cash-man, what have you been up to today?

Cash: Eh, not much.  My grandma died today. 

Okay, think about a low-key way to talk through this so he doesn't start crying.

Me: I heard, Bud, and I'm really sorry.  But think about it - your Grandma gets to hang out in heaven now and that's pretty cool, right?

Cash: Yeah, and she's not hurting anymore.  That's cool too. 

Okay, maybe I'm going to be the one that starts to bawl like a baby.

Me: Hey, Cash, I've got a grandma in heaven too.  Do you think that maybe your grandma and one of my grandmas is up there, hanging out and playing and just having a big ol' party?

Cash: Yeah, probably so.  And my dad's got a horse up there too, so they're probably riding too. 

....And cue the waterworks.



Did I mention that Cash is a pretty cool kid?  And, for the record, my dad's got some horses up there too.

Real Housewives of Greenwood County Episode #468

This episode features a montage highlighting the wonderful, romantic relationship that exists between a rancher and his wife.

*Wes waits till mid-July, mid-afternoon to finish clipping some fence.  Watch as he drops Anna off in the middle of nowhere with a half empty bottle of water, a 5 gallon bucket of clips and a pair of pliers.  Watch her scream obscenities as he drives away and tells her not to come home till she's completely done.

*In the middle of winter, Wes sits in his warm and cozy feed pickup and drives through a pasture at a slow crawl through the snow and sleet.  Where is Anna?  She's outside of the pickup on the very top of a stack of small square-bales of hay on the bed of the pickup.  She cuts the strings and flakes out each bale to the hungry cows.  When she is all done, watch as she yells around the cake feeder to the cab of the pickup, asking Wes to stop and let her in the warm cab.  Watch as that doesn't grab his attention and she beats on the metal cake feeder instead.  When that doesn't get a response from him either, watch her jump off the bed and begin to run next to the passenger window and beat on it, pleading with her husband to let her in the warm cab.  Wes finally gets off the phone, turns to the window and sees through the sleet on the window that a shadowy figure is jumping/running next to his feed pickup.  When he finally stops and allows his beloved to enter the pickup he simply states, "Well, why didn't you just say something?"  Watch as an exasperated Anna tries to flail her frozen arms at him. 


Someday soon we'll try to have this episode out on DVD for your viewing pleasure - don't miss it!