Category Archives: Blogging

Work hard, play hard .. playing catch up:

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It’s been a busy past couple of weeks ..  spring/early summer always seem to be anymore, don’t they?  Good busy, but whew .. busy.

So much to do ..  projects to get done, events to go to, family and great friends to see and get caught up with, especially now that the windows are open once again and the neighborhood has once again come alive!  Sadly, there never seems to be enough time to just let it all soak in and fully enjoy.

But we try.

In an effort to get somewhat caught up on posts without having to write two weeks worth:

First official week of summer.  6th grade here we come!  Downtime for my daughter means  coming home to concoctions in the refrigerator that are unidentifiable but that she says she wants to eat.  Friends high school/college graduation parties.  Family graduation parties, too.  Family gatherings.  Time at the River.  Gigs.  Practicing guitar.  Catching up with old friends.  Work.  Camps.  Catching up on meetings.  Taking on new projects.  Wrapping up old ones.  Watering the garden.  Trying to fit in a workout.  Time in the backyard with the neighbors.  Chasing my dog back home. Time with the Cowboy.  Time with his kids.  More gigs.  Seeing my daughter off to camp (she’s so excited, more to come on that mañana).

Getting back to church.  Special projects at work.  Golf events in the name of good causes.  90+ degree heat.  No air conditioning at home.  Father’s Day bbq.  Farmers Market.  New phone.  Not liking new phone.  Trying to figure out how to get photos off new phone.  Trying to find time to take new phone back and return for another new, different phone.  Trying to fit in another workout (longer than the one before because I didn’t leave enough time for a good hearty one that’ll work off the beer I so enjoy having, especially on a hot summer night).  Looking for the right wedding dress.  Telling family/close friends that I’d prefer hear from me that I’m getting married .. that I’m getting remarried.  Still trying to find the right wedding dress in part, because I don’t really want a wedding dress.  Just a nice dress that I can wear again that won’t cost me really much at all if anything.  In fact, my favorite choice so far is an awesome crocheted piece I got at a resale shop a couple years ago now for $10.  I digress .. Tonight, conversations with the Cowboy centered around trying to find just the right bible versus for what will be a very quiet, simple ceremony, while having a glass of chilled white wine.  Which means, I need to fit in a workout tomorrow morning before leaving early for work and a day of shoots for the upcoming month of sweeps.  That’s my deal with myself.  I can have a beer or a glass of wine as long as I get in a run at some point during the day.  How’s that for a pact.  The pounds, as some of you know when you age, don’t come off as easily as they used to .. so I’d rather not get incredibly far behind.  Or I’ll develop a big behind.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that ….

The Cowboy’s daughter said to me this weekend as we were all doing cartwheels on the Capital lawn during the Farmer’s Market .. ‘not too bad for a 40 year old!’.  “Gee, thanks” I told her, trying to act frustrated but could hardly keep back from laughing.

(last couple weeks cont.) .. oh yeah, few more things to add and then feeling more caught up.  Also been consumed with Root beer.  Ice cream.  Kayaking out on the lake amongst all the weeds.  Stand Up Paddleboarding with a woman I absolutely adore.  Trying to figure out how to do yoga on a paddle board.  Wine after paddle boarding.  Finding a bike in the lake while climbing a tree.  Larry who’s not really Larry but who was awesome at helping my daughter pull seaweed out of the tires of the bike and clean it off so that we could put it in a friends car (the paddle boarder!).  Which reminds me, need to go pick that up.  Note to self.

Tying up out of control tomato branches so rest of garden can breathe.  Fans in the window again.  And again.  Sunflowers on the table.  Conversations about faith and family and doing what’s best.  Or what we believe is best.  Making tough decisions.  Keeping those close to the vest for now.  Talking with a friend who’s mother’s cancer is progressing.  Madison Children’s Museum.  Making soap.  Not going to the Union.  Birth father stopping by and getting to better know some of my half siblings (who are just incredible kids).  Raspberry pie.  And shortly .. will be putting shoes by the door so I can boogie on another quick run in the morning and not spend time trying to figure out where I last left one or both of them.  Or do I just get on the road to today’s golf outing.  Love that someone came up with the idea to get people to golf to support great causes.

Excited to write about camp tomorrow ..

Birth Mom …

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(Been kind of a nutty past couple weeks .. and I haven’t had a good chance to sit to write like I’d like.  Such good intentions last week, especially.  SO playing catch up yet on the final two posts from my week of talking about my Moms.)

……………….

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know that I was adopted ..

I just always knew.  From the time I was a very little girl.  My parents wanted me to know that someone loved me enough to have me – and at the same time, know that it was in my best interest someone else raise me, because it wasn’t the right time or place for them to have that job.

At a very young age, I believe I came to realize just how fortunate I was, that I found the family I did, that I was even on this earth, and how painful a decision that had to have been to make.

I knew at some point, I would want to meet her.

If nothing else, to say thank you for the life I have been blessed with.

……………….

“I’m ready to look,” I said to a friend who worked for the State Adoption Agency.  It was probably 11 years ago.  And my own mother was dying of cancer.

It wasn’t long, I got a call back.

“They’ve been waiting for you,” my friend says .. “Her parents still live in the same home they did then.  It didn’t take much to find them.”

I wasn’t ready at that point for many reasons, to make the call.

So I wrote a letter.  I told her I would be in touch when the time was right.

I wanted so much for the two of them to meet, my two mothers.  The one who gave me life.  The other who gave me a life .. and if I was ever to meet my birth mother, I wanted her to know my mother-mother, the woman who had raised me ..

My mom-mom .. wasn’t sure it was what she wanted.  In fact, I know it wasn’t what she wanted.  I still remember one of the only conversations we had about it.  The two of us had just left one of her chemo appointments.  Things weren’t going well.  And we were sitting in front of Babcock Hall about to go in for an ice cream cone.

“I just don’t want to do it,” she told me through tears.

I never brought it up again.

While I am sad there never was that connection, I feel even worse about what I believe the reason why … out of fear she would lose a piece of me or perhaps even all of me, if I ever made that other connection.

I knew that would never be the case.  No one could ever come close to replacing my mom-mom.  But I also knew, nothing at that time, or perhaps ever, would ease her mind.

…..

My mother passed.

My birth mother stood in the back of the church and cried.

We have since spent some wonderful time together.  Talking.  Crying.  Getting to know each other.  Reminiscing about my life and hers .. since that day she let someone take me from her arms and put me into someone else’s.  I stood up in her wedding.  I have met her siblings (my aunts and uncles).  Spent time with her kids (my siblings).  Her parents (my grandparents).  Seen a couple births.  Deaths.  Dropped my daughter off with her for a sleepover with her cousin who she adores and is the exact same age as ..

Had some regrets I haven’t had more time with her.  But most importantly, appreciation for the time we have had.

I love her dearly for the incredibly tough choices she (and her mother) made.  Choice or perhaps better said, what was expected of her.  Life since then, I know, has been tough on her.  And she, tough on herself I believe for having let me go.  I know she never wanted to.  But when you are 16 .. and at that time in our society, the early 1970’s .. keeping a child wasn’t something many looked upon favorably.  I was told out of several other pregnancies in her school and class at the time, I was the only child born that year.

There are no words I can ever say that will fully encompass how grateful to my b-mom for my life.  And the life I’ve been given because of her sacrifices.  But I try.  With thank you’s and I love you’s, as often as possible.

And I know deep down, even though they never met, the woman I will always know as my mother, the woman who raised me.. most likely feels the same.

Forty ..

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I feel like I am supposed to have some sort of epiphany about life that I can tell you all about, because I’m now 40.

But ..

I pretty much don’t.

And I am slowly realizing .. perhaps that is why I’ve been in kind of a funk the past few days, despite the fact it was my birthday and everyone around me seemed so excited to help me celebrate.

I think I’m feeling like I should be making more of it, because, after all, it’s 40.

You know, the new 29 or whatever everyone kept saying out of kindness or .. probably not being sure what else to say to make me feel like I’m not getting that old.

Don’t get me wrong.

I am humbled and grateful for what this year was an outpouring of wonderful reminders of how many incredible people are in my life…

The comments, compliments, cakes, cupcakes, well wishes, phone calls, wall posts (what did we ever do before Facebook reminders?), surprises, the party .. flowers, chocolate, a quick dinner with an old friend, and a night with my daughter (spent sitting in a meeting we would have been fine to skip)….

There have been so many reminders of how blessed I am in this life.  I love and genuinely appreciate all of it.

But why when someone, anyone turns 40, or 50 or 60 .. does the world seem to think its more important than say 43.  Just curious.  Marketing scheme?  Can someone explain to me the significance….

I do believe now .. all the hype made me feel all the more like I should have been making a huge deal of the day, myself (when I don’t do birthdays).  The actual day.  And that I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  Because I somehow need to really grasp what turning 40 means, that I’m supposed to be in this great place in my life and know what life is all about and the best is yet to come .. well, because I’m 40.  We have to party.  This is a big one.  You go girl.  It’s your time.  Time to conquer the world.  Don’t you get it?  You don’t want a big party? .. You must not get it.  That kind of thing.

What’s funny is .. I think I do get it.

That’s just a lot of pressure to put on one day.  And I genuinely feel every single day is worth celebrating.  Especially now.  I am in a great place in life.  Sure, I wish some things were different.  Or easier.  But at 40, I feel I am totally starting over.  With some life experience under my belt to do it better this time.

Is that what 40 is supposed to be?  I don’t know but I guess in those terms,  maybe it is the new 29.

It actually is a very cool time in life for most, I believe.  At least that’s what people who are there and have been there are telling me.  But the entirety of it .. you know, the whole year.  Not just a day.  The turning 40 thing is one of the reasons I decided to start blogging this year.  To keep track of all the awesome, beautiful changes happening.  And my thoughts on it all.

Perhaps in writing I just came to the epiphany I needed to.

Regardless.

I am still stealing moments this week amongst all the chaos of a beautiful, whirlwind, emotional few days leading up to my birthday and got back to what I like to do in the privacy of my own special day each year:

– Thank the woman who chose to give birth to me, because she easily could have chosen not to.  And for that fact, I am eternally grateful.

– Thank the family who wanted and could raise a child, and picked me.

– Hug my daughter.

– Tell those closest to me that I love them and thank them for being a part of my life always.

– Treat myself to some chocolate.  Good coffee.  And a great beer.

– And .. garden.

It may have been digging in the dirt on my little patio last night in the dark and potting a few plants and seeds I’ve wanted to get started.  But I fit it in.  A wonderful way to chill out in the final hours of a great day.   Time for myself, to think about the seeds I’ve already planted in life and what I hope grows out of another wonderful year.

Mindless blogs and Making the most of our time ..

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Leave it to a man,  I am laughing to myself, to point out the obvious.

(Well, to be quite honest, I know a lot of women that do that better than many a men.  But that was still the first thought that popped into my head)

While I don’t get a ton of comments on my blog .. which is fine .. I love and appreciate the ones I do get.  Even critical ones.  Which so far, I guess it’s nice I’ve only had one.  But I work in a field where I’m used to them.  I can usually take whatever gets thrown my way.

So when I saw the following response to my “Help Wanted” post from a week ago where I mentioned I could really use a personal assistant, something I’ve believed I would be much better off with since college, I about spit my coffee out laughing:

“Perhaps if you weren’t writing mindless blogs you would have more free time to do what the rest of us do??”

First of all, thank you, Mr. Obvious.  Or, what one might think is obvious.  It’s 2:23 a.m. and I’m up writing because I don’t sleep much, not when I’m alone anyway.  This is my usual time unfortunately, to be up yet doing things I simply want to get done.  Mindless or otherwise.  Because during the day, I’m busy.  Apparently according to your best guess, not making good use of my time.

Trust me, James .. I wish the DMV were open right now because I’d be the first in line late at night take care of what I need to get done.  In fact, I might call the appropriate state officials first thing tomorrow morning to suggest at least one office stay open 24 hours .. because I bet a ton of others would be right there with me.

Are you among the uber organized, incredibly efficient and ultra successful?  I do hope so and I am glad you have it all figured out.  If not though, perhaps it’s the opposite .. you don’t have a whole lot going on in life that you have time to read mindless blogs and then point that fact out?  Or best reality might be that you are lucky to fall somewhere in-between?

I could take a guess .. but I hate to ever assume I know a thing about someone else’s life let alone make a remark about it.

Life for most people, is hectic.   And for women it seems, more and more.  Women who might work.  Care for a child.  Try and maintain some level of health and fitness.  Take care of things around the house.   Volunteer.  Manage family time & relationships and friendships.  Take care of an aging parent.  Help a child with homework.  Visit a friend in the hospital who just had a baby.  Console another friend going through divorce.  Spend time on your own marriage to keep it on solid ground.  Or, exert far too much time and energy dealing with an ex who can’t seem to move on and blames you for everything that has ever gone wrong in his life.  Go to church.  Cook a meal for a family who’s going through a loss.  Make your own family dinner.  Run a child to their activities.  Shop for a child’s friend’s birthday present.  Take the dog to the vet.  Attend a fundraising event you feel obligated to go to because your friend with that organization just came to your benefit.  And if you’re lucky .. find time for a yoga class or a good bar where you can hide out for an hour and try to remember what it’s like to actually breathe and get over the guilt you’re just not doing enough .. or doing it well enough and you need to try harder tomorrow.  Finish that beer or wake up after the final yoga stretch and cool down.  And then kiss those you love goodnight.

While I truly am enjoying responding to James in this particular post, this is actually a discussion I do want to have with my daughter .. most likely routinely .. as she is growing up.  And one we have already started to have.

We want it all.  Or think we do, especially when we’re younger .. just starting out in life and career.  We try to do it all.  Women, especially.  But it’s tough to have it all.  Something’s gotta give.  And women tend to be too hard then on themselves when that happens.  They feel they somehow failed.  Well, that I know is a gender neutral issue.  Everything’s got to be, look and feel perfect.

I fight this myself although I’ve gotten much better about it over the years through time and life experience.  But I see it so much now in close friends and colleagues, especially.

Life’s not perfect.  At all.  We do the best we can and hopefully learn to let the rest of the chips fall where they may.  We may want to save the world, or the whales, or .. oh, this list could go on and on and on but I don’t want to give anyone any more ideas or items to put on their to-do list… but it’s okay if you can’t.  Still we try.  And that’s okay too.

But, James, this is why some of us would appreciate an assistant.

……………

Now I’m not done with James just yet.

From ‘Help Wanted’ to ‘No soup for you’ .. I wrote yesterday about good customer service and how at a very young age, I learned working service jobs that the customer is (almost) always right.

What’s wonderful about a blog is that the writer gets to determine who the writing is for.  Kind of.  Perhaps its better said, who is your audience?  Do you know the customer you are going for?  And are you making sure they are the intended target in your work?  For some bloggers the target may just be for themselves.  A creative outlet.  Others hope for a much broader audience.  And money coming in through ads.  But what is “right” here in the blogosphere, often means what is ‘right’ by the writer.  (Try saying that 10 times fast) Not necessarily by the audience or readers .. or in other words, the customer.

I have been meaning to write a better ‘About me’ page for awhile now, to explain why I have taken this blog, this personal project on.  A project James feels is meaningless.  An opinion he is certainly entitled to.  But many others have encouraged me to continue to write.  I am so honored so many of you are stopping in to read, offer support, comments and just plain time of yours to connect.

Anyway, James’ note prompted me to finally get the ‘About me’ page done.

If you’re so inclined to further care about why I am blogging/journaling/channeling my inner writer that I don’t typically get to use for anything other than 30 second copy .. please check out the tab.

It’s cool if you don’t, too.

Who I would like to see it and who will get a copy of all this when it is done.. is my daughter.  Because this is for her.  She may not appreciate it now .. but I’m hoping somewhere down the line my daughter loves the memories I’m able to record, the parts of me she will someday want to know more about when I’m gone and be able to look back and sincerely track the big changes that may or may not lie ahead for us all this year.

If anyone else might appreciate some of my random thoughts or days along the way, I am blessed.  Sincerely, thank you for stopping in.

But like anyone with a remote .. or a mouse on their computer .. you get to vote with where you click and spend your time.

On your TV, you don’t like the program, change the channel.  Online, if you aren’t interested in a site, keep surfing.  Lucky for us all .. we live in a time and place where there is infinite content to choose from.  And each of us gets to decide where our time is spent most wisely.

Best to you all ..

Not a pretty sight this morning …

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I was halfway through an entirely different post here ..

When I heard it.

You know.. the sound animals make when they’re heaving .. getting ready to throw up and just lay it all out there.

And if you have pets, you know it’s usually in the worst possible place.  For instance, they may have just gotten in the trash, devoured all your leftover pesto, garlic cloves and tomatoes to boot (no pun intended.  well, maybe it was) and they find the middle of your white plush rug to get sick.

I know better anymore than to have a white plush rug.  And yes, from experience.  Because out of an entire house of hardwoods, which I have always had, the one area rug I might have in the house, has always been the preferred site for my animals to gather and look for comfort apparently, when they are getting sick.

……………….

Back to the events of this morning.

I hear it happening .. And as I make a mad dash to get her to the hardwood floors before she actually throws up.. There it is.  The heave.

………………

My parents, as I was growing up, wanted just one pet.  We usually had one small breed dog.  And that was it.

I, on the other hand, wanted them all.  I’d bring home cats.  Ask for a horse daily.  Rabbits.  Goldfish.  A parakeet.

Our dog Bugsy growing up and the parakeet ..

Even rats.  God bless ’em.  I started with one.  One rat.

I eventually ended up, thanks to a breeding mishap in the back of our 7th grade science classroom, with 24.

“No.”  

That is what my parents said when I asked if I could bring more than the one home.

So, at the end of my 8th grade year, the rats were fed to the eagles at the MacKenzie Environmental Center.  Because no one else wanted them.  Or maybe they did, but their parents didn’t want them, either.  Traumatic for me, but apparently a wonderful treat for the eagles.

……………..

One pet.

I never understood why one was great .. but more wouldn’t be even that much better.

Until recently.

Don’t get me wrong, I love them all.  Dearly.  The two dogs I have (one that I share with a friend… I’ll explain that one later), the cat (we used to have 3) .. the horse (used to have 2) and the goldfish (which recently passed, and this reminds me, we have yet to ‘bury’ him.  Oops.) have all been wonderful companions.  I’m so grateful we have been able to give them all a home and a family and I wouldn’t trade their company for the world.

And if I made even one trip to the Humane Society or saw a stray running down the street .. chances are I’d do everything I could to save them all and make sure they found a good home.  Mine or otherwise.

My daughter is exactly the same.  In fact, she may be worse than I am in the animal lover department.

But it’s been increasingly exhausting .. the constant level of care, the upkeep, the running home everyday at some point to get the dogs out no matter what the day looks like or how tough it may be to get there .. the financial strain .. and the constant hair, cleaning, picking up after, litter, poop bags, paper towel, vet appointments, I could go on.  If you have pets you know what I mean.  It all gets to be a lot.  For anyone.  But especially for someone who is single, gone much of the time and wanting post-divorce, to rebuild financially.

I now understand why my parents said, ‘No’.  And wanted just one.

I’m exhausted.

…………..

After a funeral this morning .. I have to stop by to pick up the cat who is at the vet.

Off to the vet ...

Yesterday was cleaning up after her.

I finally realized, after trying to deal with certain issues she’s been having myself here at home, she needs more help than what I can give.  Chances are, my aging cat has issues that are medical.

I’m fully expecting a significant bill.

The fish still needs to be buried.

The ants are now gone from the kitchen.

But the trash I took outside to get rid of the ants brought raccoons.  A whole other thing to clean up this morning.

Which I discovered, taking the puke I cleaned up from the dog, out to the trash.

Feeling better ..

She’s feeling better ..

I on the other hand, if I didn’t have a day full of running around already, would be ready to go back to bed.

Don’t expect much, if you don’t put in ….

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The Cowboy’s daughter said to him last night, “Good job, dad,” as they were leaving the rodeo..

He replied, “No, I didn’t.”

“Well,” she said, “you tried your best.”

The Cowboy, doesn’t like to miss.  He missed last night.  His partner broke the barrier. Disappointed, he thought this might be an opportunity to remind himself of a good lesson.. and one to teach his kids.

“I’m a little rusty,” he told her.  “And I didn’t prepare.  You do your best by being prepared, by practicing.  Not by just doing your best the one day you go do something.  That’s true of a lot of things.”

I’m getting a recap this morning via the videophone .. it’s good to see him again.

“I didn’t even rope on my horse before I went.  It’s my fault.”

……………..

According to the Cowboy, his horse hadn’t been roped on in six months.  He himself, had roped only a few times the past couple of weeks.

He said he had been thinking on the drive there last Friday, not to expect much.

“I can go to the practice pen right now and never miss.  When you’re a team roper you have a  partner that relies on you.  You feel bad.”

………………

The past year has meant big changes for the Cowboy, changes that had him scaling far back from a whole lot of roping and riding.

Until that point however .. his family and the rodeo had been his life.  He spent most of his time, from what I gather .. on the road working, roping, hosting schools.  Things were tough at home because he was gone.  When he was home things were tough.  Something many of us, in various ways, can relate to.  We wonder .. how much more could we have put into a marriage, a job, a hobby or a sport .. and where would that leave us now?  Or would it have changed anything.  Had we ‘practiced’ more.  Focused.  Been better prepared and known then what we know now.

One can only guess – sometimes.

What we do know for sure is, and we were chuckling about how universal the message is this morning.. you can’t change anything looking back.  In life.  Or in the rodeo.

“Don’t expect much if you don’t put out much,” said the Cowboy.

More laughter.  That can be taken so many ways ..

I think the old saying goes, ‘Don’t expect much, if you don’t put in the work’ .. but his phrase might be more fun to use.

Either way .. as I sit here eating a cupcake for lunch .. wondering why I’m struggling still to lose weight.. I’m thinking, touché.

I’m off for a run.

Insight gleaned from hydrangeas on the floor …

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My cat right now is chasing a guitar pick around the living room like it’s the best toy, ever.  Like, it’s on the run from him and he’s totally not going to let it get away.

I’m pretty sure its the first thing to bring a genuine smile to my face since about 8:00am yesterday.

Of course.. it follows him knocking over a vase freshly filled with water to get a drink.

Which makes me smile, too.

Now that I’ve cleaned up the water, anyway.  Because it’s my own damn fault he knocked it over.  I knew he was thirsty.  He had been looking for something for probably the past ten minutes.  I could hear him checking the shower for any residual drops.  I was folding clothes.  He came and looked at me.  I asked if he could give me a few minutes.

He went to the dog dish.  Nothing there.  I’m still folding clothes.  I hear the vase go.  He always goes for the flower vase when I don’t respond quick enough or there are no other options.

I pick up the hydrangeas off the floor..

I pause, before placing them back in the vase.  Go and get some more water.

And put them back on the table.

I tend to buy myself flowers when I need a pick me up.  Or, just because.

Today, I needed the pick me up.

………….

Oh the irony, I think to myself.  The cat knocks the vase over because he needs something.  Something I didn’t get him immediately.  A bit drastic?  Perhaps.  But it reminds me of my day.  When you wait too long to address a situation, it can easily get out of hand.

………….

I received a text Monday morning from the Cowboy about 25 minutes after he hit the road to head home to South Dakota.

“Please call when you drop (daughter) off, need to talk” states the text.

We had just had 48 hours of pretty much nothing but time to talk.  Time in the car.  Hours.  Together with nothing to do but talk.  We had some really fun, wonderful conversations.  So much so in fact, I pointed it out specifically after one very animated chat about shows we each used to watch when we were kids.

“My brothers and I used to not get out of the car unless we could go through the windows,” said the Cowboy.  “Dukes of Hazard.  Did you watch that one?  We loved that show.”

He shared some more ridiculously fun and fond memories about times he and his brothers did some crazy things to be like the Duke boys..

I’m laughing.

“These are really great conversations,” I honestly said to the Cowboy on our return trip Sunday from Chicago.  “Have you ever been able to talk to someone like this?” I ask.

“No,” he said smiling.  “I haven’t.”

I even took a few notes because they are conversations worth journaling.  Internally I’m thinking, how can we make sure we always continue to talk like this?  To keep learning from each other?

‘Need to talk.’

I hear this and think, oh no.. what’s happened.  There is so much going on right now.  So many moving parts in both our lives.  The Cowboy has a big day back home, Tuesday.  Monday was a prep day.  And here I was concerned it was something in regard to ‘said’ meeting.  Or the kids.  Something is horribly wrong.  Someone’s been hurt or is sick.

Nope.

‘I want to ask you about some texts I saw on your phone,’ says the Cowboy.

………….

Besides the whole host of things that might need to be discussed here ..

And mind you, I leave my phone lying around with no concerns about anything anyone might see on my phone because I have nothing to hide…

This all started Saturday morning …

It is now Monday.  And he’s left, on his way home.

…………..

I struggled with what to write, if anything at all tonight/today.  Because quite honestly, I’m still baffled about the entire situation.  But more importantly, the Cowboy has enough on his plate and the last thing I ever want to do is upset him or distract him from major life tasks that are imminent and need his focus.

I’m also wondering if stress isn’t playing a major role in any and all issues we’re having right now versus actual problems.

So I’m leaving it at this .. for now.

There are lessons, always, to be learned in our every day.  And there are stories and wisdom I wish my mother were still alive to hand down to me.  From simple things like how she made such awesome rosettes for instance .. to the complex.  Relationships.  Marriage.  Finances.  Friends.  Dreams.  Even cats.  (Yes, even cats.  I’m sure they fit in here, somewhere.)

I feel strongly the situation that has unfolded the past 24 hours specifically holds a lot of food for thought for my daughter, as she gets older and will undoubtedly face similar situations.  So I will figure out how to tactfully write about what has transpired.  Just not now.

……………

Much like the vase tipped this morning.. and the gush of water and flowers on the floor .. some things become bigger messes than they ever need to be.  Or are worth being.  Because attention wasn’t given at the right time.  Or to the right thing.  Sometimes, it can be as simple as someone/something wanting to make a mess.  But usually there’s a deeper cause.  Whatever the case .. in the wee hours of the morning as I write this:  I’m not sure how the Cowboy is.  I want nothing but good things for him and us however .. so we shall see how well we navigate this road.  But the cat .. the cat is the only thing at the moment, I feel I can appease.  And because he let me know very swiftly there was an issue..

Apparently I need to clean my floors again. I know.. I know..

There is now water in every dish.

A content cat on the sofa sleeping.

And a guitar pick that can rest.

……………

I’m off to try and do the same.

Don’t look ’em in the eye..

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We got sidetracked over the weekend .. (which has me now 2 days behind in posts but I’ve got some great stuff to work with .. so no shortage of material, just time.)

We were heading to a friends place in Chicago.  I wanted to make three stops along the way… and none of which entailed a bar.  Which, is apparently where most of Chicago likes to hang on St. Pattys day so we may have to make that trip again and do it appropriately.

I wanted to see the Chicago River turned green, a longstanding tradition .. (I’ve seen it look rather green, but probably not on purpose)

http://www.suntimes.com/news/metro/11345105-418/they-dye-the-chicago-river-and-a-few-other-things-green.html

And, I wanted to stop in at two stores, both of which are essentially a few doors down from the river.

One where I usually go anymore if I’m going to buy a new suit (http://www.benetton.com/) …not that I want or need anymore than I already have.  But my job demands I dress well and stay up to date with current trends.  And people are very vocal (like last Friday) when they don’t like what you are wearing.  So I have to make an attempt anyway .. I walked in .. tried on one blouse .. and walked out.

(I walk out by the way, to the Cowboy and my daughter, who have found comfy chairs across from each other in the mall, seeing who can stare the other down first without laughing.  It made me smile.)

The other…

… http://shop.nordstrom.com/c/womens-shoes-shop?origin=topnav was just down the hall.  One where my daughter was very much a participant.  And the funny faces she was making here.. were in the mirror, at herself.  As she asked for pair after pair of shoes to try on.  Heels and all.  (10 years old mind you.)

Quite honestly, she’s the one who needs new shoes the most.  She’s gone from a size 5 last fall to a size 7.  I’m pretty sure she’s been cramming her feet into shoes that don’t fit for months.  Regardless ..

………..

Nordstroms on Michigan Ave.  (Yes, I’m quite certain there other other more magnificent shoe departments but this one is closest to home.)

I don’t always buy.  I swear I don’t.  Not any more.  I used to, perhaps twice a year.  I’d go and buy one new pair.  Something I feel pretty good about given I usually see women buying several at usually upwards of $150/pr if not $300-$500.

Slowly and steadily, I’m trying to get rid of shoes I don’t wear anymore and only buy comfortable shoes for my busy lifestyle and aching feet.  Ones that are stylish enough to wear to work, for everyday or to the ranch.  (They do exist.)

I bought one pair for myself.  Cute, casual.  But wearable for work.  Under $100.  And most importantly, while they may not look it, comfortable.  Like, crazy I’m walking on pillows, comfortable.  And we got a pair of glittery flip flops for my daughter so that she could remove the tall, sweaty cowboy boots she had on that 80 degree day.   Because she had no other warm weather shoes that fit her.

The Cowboy had no intention of spending any money.

No intention.

But on the way back to the car .. we, meaning, I.. or my daughter..  apparently made eye contact with the guy at the kiosk in the middle of the mall.  Well, actually we didn’t make eye contact.  But he noticed we were strolling, friendly folk and likely suspects .. and he reeled us in.  You know, those kiosks where they say here, try this hand lotion and if you stop you’re in trouble.  The Cowboy has apparently been reeled in by this kiosk before, at a different mall.  I have too.  These people are good.

But I was prepared.  And wasn’t spending any more money.

The owner realized that.

Then started talking with the Cowboy.

We were there a good 20 minutes.  Had fun.  And we walked away having spent some money.   Not on beer.  Shoes.  A suit.  Or anything Irish this St. Patrick’s Day.  But it was still refreshing and hopefully worth the price.

It’s okay to get sidetracked.  But eye contact in the big city isn’t what it might always be out on the back roads of South Dakota.  Where all it might cost you, is a friendly wave.

“No more eye contact,” says the Cowboy, laughing, before we’re even done.  We went off and had what I thought was a wonderful rest of the weekend..

…………

What I realized this morning.. ironically .. is that I should have made more eye contact with the Cowboy over the weekend.  Because I may have then realized,  there were other discussions to be had.  And that would have been good to have, when we could have looked each other in the eye.

Instead .. I get a text.

Sometimes conversations with a cowboy.. heck, anyone, aren’t easy.  Or fun.

Stillwater …

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If you’ve never been to Stillwater, Minnesota, you’re missing something.  It is a beautiful .. quaint little town along the banks of the St. Croix River (I thought it was Mississippi but, wrong.) just as you cross the border from Wisconsin into Minnesota.  Or, I guess.. the other way around, too.  Leaving Minnesota heading into Wisconsin.  Whichever direction you’re coming from, it’s just a few miles off the highway.  And well worth the trip.  There is a great downtown and a gorgeous landscape surrounding the small town.

http://www.countryliving.com/antiques/shops-and-shows/getaway-st-croix-valley-1106#slide-1

Lot of antique shops.  Well, a lot of quaint little shops in general to be honest.

Golf courses.  Water recreation opportunities.  B&B’s.  And of course.. some great restaurants.

I’m pretty sure the Cowboy and I checked out each and every one of them in the three hours we were there.  The day we actually met, in person.  Late last June.

Because I was hungry for breakfast.  I had just come from a long run.  And it was past noon.

As we were told, ‘no breakfast anymore’ walking from place to place, we finally settled on a nice bistro on the edge of town (no more restaurants to hit).  We sat in the window at a table for two.  And I quickly realized it didn’t matter what was on the menu.  I was happy to just delve into the person sitting across the table from me.   (Take that however you want.  But at that point it was all about the convo.)

…………..

Another old friend I just ran into and who knew something about someone in South Dakota  said to me .. ‘how exactly, did you meet again?’

………….

Six years ago .. the Cowboy got a call from a friend to show some horses.  He was living in Oklahoma  at the time.  It was to rope at the World Appaloosa show in Fort Worth, Texas for a horse trainer from Wisconsin.  He went.  They won.  They have been great friends and worked together ever since.

Which brings us to a year ago…

That same trainer…

Became my trainer for an event I was asked to do along with some others for the Midwest Horse Fair last April, I believe it was.  We worked together for a few months.  Unlike the Cowboy, I …didn’t win.    But the Trainer and I became fast friends as well.

(He shall from this point forward be called the Trainer.  Because he and his family have now become a big part of both our lives.  Chances are he will make some reappearances in future blogs.)

Fast forward to a Memorial Day weekend trip the Trainer took to South Dakota with a client of his.  They went to the Cowboy’s to have him teach the client how to rope.  They roped.  They drank beer.  And one night the Cowboy got our his guitar and started to play.

“You have to meet a friend of mine,” says the Trainer to the Cowboy.

He bugged him about it again the next day.  The following day on his drive back to Wisconsin, the Trainer calls me and says, “You’re not dating anyone right now, are you?  Even if you are..  I’ve got someone you need to meet.  Go on Facebook or something .. Friend the Cowboy.”

I’m pretty sure both of us laughed and said .. ‘Yeah, sure. Get right on that’… because neither of us was wanting or looking for anything at the time.

Which may be why this has been so good.

We did nothing but talk for what seemed quite a long time.  Great conversations.  Long conversations.  About everything.  Including why neither of us was in the market for a relationship at the point.  Usually it was from about midnight-3am on many a night last June.  And then we thought, perhaps it might be nice to meet.  Because while neither of us was looking to get into another relationship, there was something there.

On a weekend when both our plans got canceled for other reasons.. mine, a trip to Nashville to scope out some potential life changes and him, to North Dakota for a roping school which got rained out..  we decided on a whim, to meet.

But where..

One of my best friends had out of the blue, said, we’re home with no plans, come to Minneapolis and see us.

The Cowboy said, I have a friend who’s been at me to come rope.  He’s just outside Minneapolis.

And on that weekend, we met.  For lunch.  Which turned into an afternoon.. one of the best afternoons of my life, thus far I’m pretty sure.

Other than the distance.. we have been together since.

Stillwater deserves a return trip .. I’m thinking.  And breakfast, lunch or dinner.. will be great.  As long as the company is the same.

‘Try this,’ my 10-year-old says..

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I was going to post earlier today .. the answer to ‘Most Asked Question #2‘ when it comes to me and the Cowboy.  The, ‘He lives there and you’re here?  How did you meet?’ post.  But that’ll come later, I guess.  My internet is giving me hell.  I didn’t get a chance to tweak it.  That’ll happen yet tonight, I would imagine.

In the meantime, I’ve had the most wonderful afternoon with my daughter.  And given I want her to have as much of me and ‘us’ documented to remember .. I’m going to take this moment to write about our evening.  Because there is much to be savored.  Literally.

………..

There is a store in Madison where, every Wednesday, when I pick my daughter up from school for either the two days I have her each week or the 5 .. we stop to pick up fresh produce.  Because neither she nor I can get enough of it …

Other stores carry produce.  I shop there too.  But usually, none can compare to what we find at this particular Madison based store.  It is just that good.  Or, at least we know it’s that good.  Because, well, because there are samples.  For EVERYTHING.

“Mom,” she says, chasing me around the store with another sample of something.  Always.  “Try this!  You HAVE TO TRY THIS!  Can we get one of these?” she says.

Great marketing.  It works.  We usually walk out with far more than what we would have gotten otherwise.

Regardless..

I’m estatic we have a chance to get home tonight and do little other than finish up homework.  Hang out together.  Cook.  And give the dogs some exercise after being cooped up much of the past two days while the rest of the Midwest comes to life now that spring has sprung.

I put the pork chops in the oven, get the snap peas ready to go for when I return.. and go for a run with one of the dogs.

I was gone 15 minutes.

I come back, she’s cutting up a pear.  I think little-to-nothing of it.

I go back to getting dinner ready.

“Please keep working on your homework,” I say.

I find a granola bar wrapper.

And, as I go to put the other groceries away, I find the cheese, open.

“Did you eat more than the pear?” I ask.  “You’re going to ruin your appetite and we have a nice dinner tonight.”

“What,” she says.  “I only had cheese, a granola bar.. and, I had a pear.”

She pauses a few seconds.

“And I’m still hungry.”

We sit down moments later to a wonderful meal of pork chops, steamed sugar snap peas, fresh salad topped with strawberries and cantaloupe to round it out.

She’s right.  She is still hungry.

And these are moments that remind me, despite how often I’ve been told by her father over the years I am far from being the best mother (to put it mildly) .. make me feel like if I’ve done anything right, she will grow in so many ways, into a healthy young woman.

My 10 year old is growing, in more ways than one.  Precious moments like these, I’m so grateful to realize pass us by too quickly .. to not be savored.

Now about that ice cream for dessert …