Category Archives: Cowboy

Spurs

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We were sitting on the back porch of a friends home last night catching up. Every time someone got out of their chair to go grab something to eat, drink or whatever the reason .. there it was.

The jingling of spurs.

Spurs

Never knew how comforting a sound that would be ..

…………….

I didn’t know much about spurs until I met the Cowboy. Never spent much time around any horse people that wore them. Perhaps a couple. I didn’t understand the value in them, especially when working with a stubborn horse. Not until recently, anyway. I often go to the arena to ride without them because I like to think that I can get a horse to mind because, well just because I want to be nice. And because I know they are good horses. The cowboy informed me the other night am to wear them whenever I ride, regardless. It came as I was increasingly frustrated one of the newest horses to the herd was definitely not going to do what I was asking her to do. And the Cowboy was frustrated with me.

“How many times have I told you to always have your spurs on,” he said .. in a stern tone of voice as the horse reared.

“You’ve got to wear them to help get their attention sometimes,” he says to me today, knowing this is today’s post. “You’ve got to have something to make them respect your legs or your leg cues. Horses often become desensitized to someone sitting on them for any length of time. They do what they want and often do as little as they have to when they can get away with it. It’s like a kid. if there’s no consequence to any of their behavior, ever .. pretty soon they’re always pushing boundaries and going their own way versus the way you want. And a 1200 pound horse pushing boundaries can be dangerous. Most horses don’t behave well just because they want to please you. That’s a rarity.”

My spurs now live on my riding boots. Right alongside the entire family’s ..

…………..

I’ve also learned that the piece that fell off my daughter’s spur earlier this summer that needs replacing .. is called a rowel. A much more technical term than the ‘back of the spur’ as I’ve been calling it until recently. Go ahead and laugh all you veteran cowboys out there. At least I’m trying. And admitting how much I know I have yet to understand about this life and lifestyle.

So far .. despite the setbacks, falls and challenges, it’s been a lovely ride.

220px-SpurDiagram.svg

The parts of a spur include (via Wikepedia):

  • The “yoke”, “branch”, or “heel band”, which wraps around the heel of the boot.
  • The “shank” or “neck”, which extends from the back of the yoke and is the area that touches the horse.
  • The rowel, seen on some spurs, a revolving wheel or disk with radiating “points” at the end attached to the shank.

Habits That Steal Precious Moments ..

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The Cowboy and I were lying in bed, talking. It had been a very long past week and a half in Wisconsin and I was back in South Dakota. I grabbed one of the books I keep on the nightstand, a book I reference often but not every night.

Not anymore anyways, I had been through it page by page years ago.

Book

The entry for that night, July 30th, was “Habits that Steal Precious Moments”:

Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever. – Horace Mann

………….

I really dislike fighting, in any form. Ever. I feel like there is always a better way to work through anything. To talk it out. To compromise. To truly look at the goal for whatever the issue may be and find a better way to get there.

It has been years though of fighting in some capacity, too many years with the father of my daughter. My first husband. Everything it seemed even from the get-go for us was and still is a challenge to work through together. To be on the same page. We try, we have the best of intentions. But it always seems a challenge. Last week, the time in Wisconsin was about taking care of final details of how our lives will all look going forward. I’m glad its over. I pray everyday we find some peace and create change for a better, more workable future and that in whatever strange way possible, our families can come back together. At our core is one little girl we all love with our entire beings. And I believe it is possible to still be friends.

The Cowboy and I also had a rough week while I was gone. It’s tough being apart from someone you want to be with so very much. And while we did it for the better part of two years while dating and even at the beginning of our marriage, it is different now that we are technically under one roof. There are issues I believe come up with many couples when one travels and the other is left home alone to take care of the day to day. It gets old, frustrating, questions arise that never would otherwise and the Cowboy sincerely had a tough time getting any work done with three children to care for and a demanding schedule. We needed to have some tough conversations in person now that I was home again.

Some of the partners I have in business right now are struggling to find a good working relationship, if they continue to work together at all.

It has been an emotionally exhausting past couple weeks. I don’t like to fight. Not because I can’t handle the content. I’m okay to hit tough issues head on. Take criticism. Discuss obvious problems versus ignore. But exhausting because I think there is always a better way to talk and think things through and move on.

I ground myself every God given day in the fact that we don’t get time back.  And in ever perpetuating a fight versus healthy conflict resolution, versus defining a goal and a reason for having the conversation/fight to begin with and getting quickly to the bottom of it and a solution, I believe fully in the final words of that post from the July 30th entry:

“..we only steal from our potential.” – Sarah Ban Breathnach

Farm Fresh Eggs ..

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I had been sitting the other day at the kitchen table, where most of my work is done anymore, when I heard the Cowboy’s van pull up.  He shoes out of a van that is a story in and of itself. Anyway …

I went to the door to greet him, it had been a long day. And as he got out of the van, I saw him reach for and pull out a plastic bag that was absolutely full. I knew what was in it, he often brings bags like this home.

“We got eggs,” he said smiling.

EggsThere are customers of the Cowboy’s that often will send wonderful treats home with him. Farm fresh eggs, fresh bread, wonderful vegetables and the list goes on. I am incredibly grateful not only for their generosity to our family but also that they appreciate the work the Cowboy does trimming and shoeing their horses for them to the extent, I believe this is the country version of a tip.

Fry ’em up!

The Locals.

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“Always remember to slow down in life; live, breathe, and learn; take a look around you whenever you have time and never forget everything and every person that has the least place within your heart.”
–Anonymous

Amidst the hustle and buzz of people talking, kids crying, cars pulling in and out and footsteps sounding heavy on the old wood floors as families shop and browse through Wall Drug .. I have learned one of the most fascinating stops may simply be a table in the restaurant next to a few of the locals.

…………

I hadn’t sat down for more than a few minutes when I heard, “Where are you from?” I look over at the table full of gentleman next to me and answer. I had already been quietly entertained by the conversations happening at their table but was trying very hard to focus on the work ‘to-do’ list in front of me.

I once again, picked the wrong place to sit, if I thought I was getting any work done.

Wall Locals

We chatted for a few moments, then I turned my attention back to my laptop and a series of emails I had to get out that morning. I wanted to get them out quickly and get back to family. But, my answering emails would only be momentary. More questions came, some chuckling and good old fashioned ribbing of the tourist sitting there trying to ‘work’. I looked up knowing my efforts at that moment were going to be fruitless.

There were three tables as I looked down the line, full of older local gentleman, gathered for coffee. All giving each other an incredibly hard time. Laughing all the while. They ranged between middle-age and older, many with weathered hands and obvious signs of hard work and a lot of sun over the years on their faces. But they were all smiling. And as they left, one by one, they were talking about who would be back again tomorrow.

Butch, Dan and I were the last three left sitting in our little area. I kept thinking they might head out shortly too and I could get back to work, but we talked for nearly an hour. As stressed as I was about work and about being away from the family for too long, I took a deep breath and realized instead, what a wonderful moment this was.

I learned quite a bit about Wall that morning. Names, history, who’s who sitting around those tables and what each of them have done in and around Wall over the years. Where they came from, family histories, some very interesting things unique to one of their jobs I was asked not to share. More about each of them, Butch and Dan. And they continued to inquire about me. It was refreshing, fun and made me feel that much more at home in my new home state of South Dakota.

A phone call from one of the women waiting on one of my emails snapped me back into the reality of my morning, of the time and what I had yet to get done.

“I’m sorry, guys, I’ve got to get back to work,” I told them. They reassured me it was fine and it was time for them to get to their days as well.

“We might be back tomorrow,” said Butch as the two got up to leave. “Maybe we’ll see you again.”

I am relatively certain, we will.

Free Ice Water

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When I was about 8, I think, we drove on our first family vacation out west. I remember the Corn Palace. Wall Drug. Deadwood. Mount Rushmore. Black Hills.. the trip went on.

Black Hills sign

I didn’t like it at the time. I didn’t like the wide open spaces. I thought it was hokey we stopped in a town just because they were advertising ‘Free Ice Water’. Why would someone do that, I thought. Everyone serves free ice water. I had no intention on ever coming back. To Wall Drug. Or “out west”. Not on purpose anyway. Looking as far as the eye could see on much of that trip with no one in sight, meant to me, we would most likely get a flat tire somewhere or attacked by prairie dogs. Cell phones didn’t exist. We’d shrivel up and die and no one would ever find us. I wanted to get back home to Wisconsin. Where there were people around. People that would see if anything were ever to happen to us. And they would be there to help.

………..

We were in Wall again last weekend. Chances are, you probably don’t even know the town is called Wall. Not Wall Drug. Because the town’s done such a great job marketing itself and the free ice water.

Anyway, I had a minor freak out moment the first night we got there, to myself, as I soaked up the scene around me. Sitting that night on the back patio of what is now a family member’s home just a block away from the Drug Store, I remembered the scene described above and thought to myself, am I really here? Living like a local? WTH? How did this happen? I could hear and see people talking and laughing and having a beer around me but everything was muffled and distant. My mind started racing through major life events between my childhood and now.

I snapped quickly back into how awesome this new reality is.

………..

While we live in eastern South Dakota, a big part of the Cowboy’s family is from the Wall area.

The Cowboy and one of his brothers pointing out to kids, a family photo in one of Wall Drug Store's back hallways..

The Cowboy and one of his brothers showing kids a family photo in one of Wall Drug Store’s back hallways..

There is incredible history to both his family here and to the area that I feel people miss, unfortunately due to all the trinket shops that line the main street through town. Wall wouldn’t be what it is without this couple block stretch so don’t get me wrong. It’s a ton of fun, tourists coming through each year sustain this little community of incredible, hard-working people and we’ve enjoyed all Wall has to offer each time we’ve gone now to visit.

But here’s the deal: I walked over early last Friday to the Drug Store. I wanted a cup of coffee and a quiet spot to get some work done. I ended up ‘out back’, where I was told I could find both.

Despite how many times I’ve been back to Wall as an adult, as a single mom bringing her daughter back for the same childhood experience I had myself and in the times I’ve been here with the Cowboy, I’ve never seen what I did that morning.

Through the Alley ...

Through the Alley …

All was quiet. The walls weren’t yet masked with throngs of families working their way through the buildings. And it was there, for the first time, I sincerely saw it. History. So much history of that area. Photos of families. Of pioneers. Of ranchers. Of the Native American culture that is still so very genuinely present. A culture there people are proud of. That often gets lost, understandably, in all the shopping, stretching of legs on perhaps an otherwise long road trip, of needing to feed the kids that are screaming and not feeling up for a history lesson.

But what a part of Wall you are missing ..

Speaking of something else you may be missing on a rushed trip through the area, the locals. Met two this past weekend, writing about tomorrow. So much for getting a whole lot of work done that morning.

Can’t wait to go back.

South Dakota Sunset

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I’m back. I think. To journal, which has always been the simple intent of this blog. This time around, it may also be to somehow learn to write AP Style.

Why is that? Because television journalists are told to forget the rules and write like people talk. Forgetting the rules has served me well the better part of the past 15 years. But it’s meant a few public relations/marketing jobs I’ve considered since moving to South Dakota have gone to others. Apparently, I’m told, these positions require someone fluent in AP style because sentences need to be full sentences and dot-dot-dot isn’t considered a formal sort of punctuation mark. (I sure hope someone is mentioning this to our texting generation kids!)

I’ve decided, even if I am no longer officially job hunting (it’s always good to know what else might be out there, aren’t we supposed to always be looking?) it’s still a good thing for me to re-learn how to write. AP Style. For the record, I am keenly aware this post isn’t a great first effort.

…………….

A lot has happened the past few months. Heck, the past year. Life has changed and changed me. I hope and believe, in only good ways. Things are happening worth jotting down – to have for family history’s sake, that perhaps our kids can someday learn from if not simply gain some insights into who the Cowboy and I are, why we do what we do, what our hopes are for them and the kind of people we are in our own words, versus the words some others may ever choose. A lot of fun conversations have been had, I can’t wait to share them. Others have been very serious and not fun at all. They’re all part of the journey of this blessed new life.

I’ve been perplexed about where to start again. How to jump back in. After witnessing another stunning South Dakota sunset tonight, I thought, why the heck not here …

South Dakota sunset.

South Dakota sunset.

Instagram Pic and caption I posted tonight with it on FB in response to a few comments on the shot:

The sunset tonight only seemed to get more beautiful and bright with each passing minute – that was until at about 10:30pm when the last little bit of light faded off into the horizon. We were sitting out back of my in-laws home with the most wonderful group of friends. Light breeze. Smell of corn growing in the nearby fields under high humidity. Horses in the pasture. Kids running around. We just sat, enjoyed each other’s company and soaked it all up. What a beautiful summer night.

……………..

It’s been a long time since I’ve even logged into WordPress. Thanks to those of you who keep checking in on this blog, for whatever reason. I hope in some small way the words I write or the photos I’ve taken resonate with you in a meaningful way. We all have so much we can learn from each other in this life ..

*Another snow day.

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I just heard one of the local Sioux Falls 10pm anchors say, “she recommends you take a multivitamin and maybe go tanning”.  The statement rounded out a report about a growing number of people experiencing depression due to the seemingly never-ending winter here.  Tanning.  Extreme measures apparently for extreme situations.  That’s not really something you hear people recommend anymore.

……………….

I’m not sure that in 6 years of school in Madison, Wisconsin .. we’ve had as many snow days as we’ve had in 3 months of school in South Dakota.

The house has been bustling it seems, at least a couple days each week this ‘spring’, with our 11 y.o. home from school.  Snowbound.  There have been countless late starts.  Early releases.  Days of no school at all.

Today was another early release.  And while the snow had only been falling a couple of hours .. by the time school had gotten out, the normal trip in to bring her home took 3x as long as usual.

I cancelled some afternoon business meetings I had really wanted to get to as a result.  I just didn’t want to risk it.  Again.

snowy roads

One of the more heavily traveled roads in and out of town ..

Country roads here are a different beast than they are, back in the Badger State and the Prius has been a champ of a car so far.  While I adore the gas mileage and it’s been a great vehicle for us, I desperately need 4 wheel drive.

Why?  Because everyone else has them and I’m the little (wo)man out there fighting the good fight, it seems.  Everyone’s always waiting on me to stop holding up traffic.  Passing.  Splashing.  Waiting for me to hit the ditch so that they can pass.  Well, they’re not that crass.  But you get the idea.  Either that or I need chains for my tires.

When snow falls here, it doesn’t fall.  It blows.  Sideways.  And where there aren’t massive random drifts, the snow sticks on the roads really, only when vehicles drive over it.  Creating an unbelievable icy mess even the plows seem to have a tough time clearing and getting out in front of.  So everything instead, shuts down.  Schools.  Businesses.  Highways.

This past month snowstorms have closed the Interstates here north to south and east to west pretty much across the entire state on multiple occasions.   And kept us home more than I’d ever imagined.   Hard to believe.  The Cowboy worries it’s just hard for me to be home so much.  A big switch from having a job that had me going into work to report the news regardless of the weather – getting into the anchor desk however I had to get there.  Now, being a product of the news and bunkering down at home to ride what has been at least one major storm a week.

Short of getting a little restless, and having my own work from home days disrupted by a house full of family that was supposed to be elsewhere for the entire day .. it’s been strangely entertaining and a bit refreshing to have everyone around and just spend some down time together with nowhere else to go.  In part, because we can’t.

Speaking of refreshing .. this snow shouldn’t stick around long.  And hoping it’s the last we see of it this spring.  Temps are supposed to be in the 70’s by the weekend.

The Greenhouse

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The Greenhouse here, it is quite a big operation for a very small town.

The Greenhouse

So, each spring, when all of the new plantings come rolling in truck after truck, the call goes out for help.

Spring plugs.

Spring plugs.

“How did you end up out here or even know about this place?”

The question was asked of me, as I was working alongside several women last week, all have been with the Greenhouse some 20+ years.  They’ve all essentially, been with the place since it opened and they were surprised I even knew about it, given I told them I had only moved to the area recently.

DSC00587

I told them the Cowboy had taken me out to the Greenhouse last spring to introduce me to the owners (friends but also customers of his), to reassure me there are amenities in South Dakota that I also enjoyed back home (which I was worried about, and I thoroughly enjoy gardening), and to give me the opportunity to dig in the dirt around his place and get a few new things planted.

I loved the place.  And apparently the owners noticed, as we left with a two cartloads of plants, flowers and vegetables for the garden.

“Don’t expect me to water any of this,” the Cowboy said as we loaded everything into the back of the truck.

“I don’t,” I responded, adding, “But that just means I’ll have to come back for more….”

A year later, I am back.  There will be plants going home with me again in the near future. But for now, I’m helping plant, prune, water, hang .. whatever is needed while I also work to get my own business on its feet.  Even then, I may still hope for and love a few hours at the Greenhouse when I can get them.

……………

I know of a few friends who think I’ve lost my marbles.  Working at a greenhouse?  I know of at least one other person who feels I should not necessarily go back to exactly what I was doing before, but something along those lines that would have me earning the same paycheck because, well .. just because that’s what this person expects me to do.

I decided long ago, it shouldn’t matter necessarily what others expect of me.  Unfortunately I’m not always great at sticking to that theory, and sometimes you just can’t.  Like when you do have a job, a boss, customers, a family at home .. all those things do need to be considered.  Because they are part of your team.  But outside that circle, well ..

“Let us not try to be the best or worst for others, but let us make every effort to be the best for ourselves.” – Marcus Garvey

I, right now, am feeling really good spending time at the greenhouse.

DSC00538

It’s almost like that sabbatical I have heard so many others, mainly higher education professionals, physicians and clergy, talk about and take.  A time and place that offers you the freedom to just be.  To think.  To regroup.  To dream big or ponder all the problems of the world and how you might help solve them.  All the things I have been hoping to find time again to do.  Digging in the dirt the past few weeks has allowed me to dig a little deeper into my soul and really start churning up what I’m made of and better think about/define what it is that makes me tick.  What will make me grow.

Working at the Greenhouse has also reminded me of a few other things I now realize were lacking in my former career and day to day ..

Finding inspiration.

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When is the last time you thought outside the daily grind?  Got up and asked yourself if you are happy doing what you do?

Asked yourself, “What inspires me?”

I have a feeling most people don’t ever ask that of themselves, because if they did, that might mean they would have to do something about it.  And most likely it would be life changing.  That, is a scary thought for some.

My brother, among others if I had to guess, believes I am a bit nuts I’m quite certain because of all this.  Because I have been asking myself this question for years.  (Not if I’m nuts.  Inspired).  I still am asking, in fact and perhaps have lived my life and career a bit more this way than he feels is healthy.  He would never leave his job.  He never has.  There’s too much security in staying that far outweighs any other issue that might exist.  But I’ve always told myself in regard to career, that if heading off to whatever is helping pay the bills doesn’t inspire me, it’s time to move on.

I came to this conclusion among other reasons, after watching my most awesome parents who I just love to pieces work and work and work and work and work for years in jobs they appreciated but didn’t necessarily love.  And then shortly after they both retired and were to ride off into the sunset and do some really cool things, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and passed away.

Life is too short to not find inspiration in the things you do everyday.  Personal or professional.

I’d recommend asking yourself.   Like now.  Before the years have passed you by and you wished perhaps you had done things differently.  In the meantime, I’m a big fan of Penelope Trunk and have had the chance to know her even a little bit.an interesting read on the topic (agree with it or not):    http://blog.penelopetrunk.com/2012/08/27/how-to-find-inspiration-at-work/

……………

At the moment, I’m inspired by working with a former colleague on a new webpage for the business I have decided to start.  Even if it’s a small business on the side of something else.  But I’m pretty sure, if I work hard at all on this, it will turn into something wonderful.  (This is despite the fact I just spent another half hour looking at the latest job postings.  I’ve been told by an old friend and career coach to never stop looking.  It’s good to keep your options open.)

It’s not a micro-brewery.  Not yet anyway.  That’s a dream for a few years down the road.  Not a coffee roasting facility either.  I had been thinking, how can I go wrong with two of the things I love most.  #Buylocal is the trend (so is the hashtag, sorry had to use it) and there are few local breweries or coffee roasters that I can tell throughout in South Dakota.  Like, anywhere.  And I miss good, local, on tap, cold hearty beers as well as rockstar coffee shops with locally roasted beans every mile or so.  We’ve talked about opening a boutique and looked at properties in the area for a storefront.  I’ve dabbled in some design and woodwork.  We met with friends who were encouraging us to look at a screen printing business due to another idea I have.  It’s been a couple months of throwing it all on the table and in the midst of it looking at what else still might be out there.

While logistics of any and all of it are getting worked out, the Cowboy said to me recently, “Remember the greenhouse I took you to last year to pick out some flowers?  I got a call from the owners today.”  (They are friends and the family, shoeing clients.)

DSC00595

“She wants to know if you might like to help with spring planting,” he adds.  “They could use some help.”

“When are you going to get a job?”

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I looked at the Cowboy and almost bust out laughing.

We were driving the other night with all the kids in tow .. and one of our 5-year-olds from the far back says in a very confident voice, “When are you going to get a job?”

Quite certain the question wasn’t his own but rather one he had heard someone else ask… I assured him that I am working.  It may not look like my last job and at it may look different at times but I am working and I always will.

And then I asked if he was worried about it.

“No,” he replied.

“Is there a certain job you think I should have?” I asked.

“No,” he replied.

The Cowboy and I looked at each other and started to laugh as his older siblings jumped on him telling him how rude that was to ask.  It assured him again, that it was fine he asked.  I didn’t care.  I instead, have found it rather interesting there are a couple of people seemingly more concerned about me finding ‘a job’ they feel fits what they think I should be doing, more-so than the Cowboy or I.  And I’m pretty sure its not a 5 year old.

……

I have worked my entire life.  Since I was about 10, actually.  If we wanted anything above the basics, which my parents were happy to provide, my brother and I had to earn the money on our own to buy it.  At the time I didn’t think much of it.  But as I’ve grown, I’ve come to appreciate the life lessons that responsibility taught me.  (I only wish had been a bit more responsible with what I’ve earned over the years, on so many levels.  But that’s a whole other discussion.)

At 10 I started mowing lawns.  At 11, add to that, babysitting.  At 12, came a morning paper route.  At 14 the local florist was looking for some good part-time help.  Maureen was a blast to work for.  At 15, I started what became a very lengthy waitressing career, in a small restaurant in my hometown.  Every Saturday and Sunday morning, I’d pour coffee and serve up eggs and bacon for the entire front of the house and scrub bathrooms before leaving my shift.  At 16, I continued to waitress, babysit and at 17 added to it working at the local Cenex and feed mill as an administrative assistant.  I continued those jobs and threw in lifeguarding the 6am morning swim 3 days a week through my senior year.  College had me working 20-30 hours a week through 16-18 credit semesters and two to three jobs, usually waitressing, beverage carting, prep cooking or cleaning hotel rooms in the Wisconsin Dells during the summers.  I took my first broadcasting job at a station in Missoula, Montana for $13,500/year and worked at the bagel shop around the block just so I could have something to eat.  In recent years I’ve turned to music to help supplement my salary and keep the lights on.  I’ve done it because I’ve wanted to.  To support myself, to support my family throughout it all.  I have done it because I’ve needed to.  Throughout it however, I I have enjoyed a wonderful career.  And, I have not complained.  I’ve just worked.

Career -

Career –

Never.  Never has there been a break in my resume.

Until about two months ago.