Category Archives: Lifestyle

“Is He Really ..?” The Questions Friends Ask.

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Yes.

He really is a cowboy.

Not just a straw hat, cowboy boot, teeny bopper shirt-ish made to look western wearin’  wanna be like many of us know and sometimes are.  But a real cowboy.

Like, hangs out with other cowboys.  Can rope a steer.  Fast.  Shoes horses for a living.  Grew up on a ranch.  Makes a big belt buckle look really good.  Can train your horse, all around cowboy.

………..

Someone, actually a close friend who read the blog for the first time, asked the other night who the Cowboy is.  Like, is he real?  Is it your ex?  Is he fictitious?  (I obviously have not seen this friend in awhile.)  But even people I work with who haven’t met the Cowboy yet I’m pretty sure believe he’s a figment of my imagination.

Don't even try this look if you're not a real cowboy .. I'm pretty sure.

Actually .. any man that has swept me off my feet like this guy and actually kept me interested and happy .. for longer than one date (if they got even that far), they probably think is fictitious.  I’ve been pretty jaded .. and, guarded for what seems now, a very long time.  Waiting for the right person to come along.  Especially because I want to do everything I can to not only protect my own heart after several healthy doses of loss and unhealthy relationships.. but that of my daughters.

But he does exist…

And I don’t know that in the blog, I’ve properly introduced him… If you can actually do that with a person who you will most likely never get to look in the eye, at least here in blog world.  Which I’m still learning.  Real world, he will absolutely connect with you in person. Eye to eye.  And a smile.

………….

There are questions I get asked often.  And that the Cowboy does as well, when we’re out and about and I introduce him to anyone new.

Usually, when any of us, ever first meets someone for the first time we say the standard, Hey, nice to meet you.  And then inadvertently it’s followed up by .. So, what do you do?

“I’m a farrier,” he Cowboy answers.

(Well sometimes that’s what he says.  He does a lot of things where horses are concerned.  Trains.  Ropes.  But usually, he answers, farrier.)

Old shoes ..

Cowboys and people that know anything about horses then go about talking about cowboy things.  I think.

More often then not though, my non-horse owning/only ever been to South Dakota or out west to see Mount Rushmore or go skiing at some swanky Rocky Mountain resort, who freely say things like ‘lasso’ (see previous post about why this totally outs you as a greenhorn) and like to wear cowboy boots just because they look good friends will say, “A what?”

As he goes on to explain .. they say, “So, you’re a real cowboy?”

Yep.  He is.

It is a way of life those who live it, love.  Anyone that would call themselves a real cowboy I have ever had the pleasure to know, talk with or read about, will tell you, it’s a hard way of life.  Or can be.   But that they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then there are those who love what it stands for, but aren’t sure they could ever give up the creature comforts of the non-cowboy way of life.  So they appreciate it from a distance.

Many do.  Appreciate it that is, from a distance.  In fact, they appreciate it so much, marketing to the non-cowboys who want to be like, look like or pretend they’re a real cowboy is big business anymore.  I think.  I can’t find any statistics.  I tried for awhile here and turned up little to nothing concrete.  By the way, have you googled western way of life?  Cowboy economy?  Not what I was expecting.  All it brings up are boot companies.  And some other really entertaining, if not frightening things.

…………

I tried to explain to a friend awhile ago, a business idea a few of us have.  One we believe would totally fly with those who have a love for the western way of life.  He said, “Well, for arguments sake, who does that appeal to?”  I replied, “A lot of people.”  He said, “Prove it. Monetize it.  You want someone to back it, show me it’ll make money.”

They're advertising to someone ...

I wanted to start by saying, I can add up the number of girlfriends I have who are single and have asked if the Cowboy has any single friends .. and if I might ‘help them find a cowboy.’  And then take him to my own closet full of boots, the first pair of which I bought myself when I was 17 .. a pair of Justins,  http://www.justinboots.com/en/  and say, let’s just take even one percent of the US female population and assume they have the same if not more cowboy/girl (my pc self coming out there) boots than I do.  Because I’m pretty sure millions of others have me beat on the boot count .. and say, “There’s your proof.  That’s just one woman’s closet.  How’s that for your indicator.”  Then walk off triumphantly.

But I know he was doing it for my own benefit.  Plus, his wife has far more boots than I do so he’s aware. He just wants me to be fully prepared to defend my idea.

I digress ..

The whole point of this was to say, he’s real.  The Cowboy is not a figment of my imagination.  Or .. my own ex.  Who loves the west, but not being a cowboy.  He wants to be a mountaineer.  I think that’s still the case.  That’s a whole other story.

(Mountaineering, by the way, has been far better documented it appears,  http://tinyurl.com/6porksg  in regard to economic impact than the Cowboy industry.  What gives.)

………….

“So, how did you two meet?”

The above is almost always the second question.  Or, close to like, the fifteenth because its always after the barrage of questions about being a cowboy.  Once though they realize he’s a cowboy there .. and I’m living in a tiny 2 bedroom apartment in the middle of a small city nowhere near the great plains of South Dakota, that is what pops out of many a mouth.

It’s a great story.  I shall tell it.  Perhaps tomorrow.

Just a crack …

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It really has not been a bad past few months, in terms of winters.

Well..

If you like snow or rely on it for income, it pretty much sucked.

I didn’t ski once.  It’s been a long time since I haven’t gone at all.  Or, ice skate.  I love doing both, especially with my daughter.  We had planned to take the Cowboy in fact.  We live near a cool ice skating park with a shelter that serves hot cocoa and had looked forward to going.

This winter though, worked for me.  For many reasons.  The Cowboy and I have been on the road a ton between here and there.  I hate driving in snow.  Plus it’s allowed me to get away with the near balding tires I’ve had all winter.  I no longer have a yard to just throw open the back door to something fenced in to let the dogs out, I have to walk them.  And pick up after them.  In a lot of snow, neither of those are fun.  And I hate being cold.  I usually live in long underwear each winter.  I’m not sure that I put them on but twice over the past 5 months.  While I love skiing and hate that the hills around here or for that fact, many places took a huge hit this year.. I’ll take winters like the one we’ve had.  At least, every now and then.

………….

But I haven’t had the windows open (except to let the smoke out after cooking on a few occasions) since probably mid-November.

I cracked a few on Saturday morning in the apartment.

My daughter, who usually begs me to put the windows up because the wind is blowing her hair in her eyes, wanted all the windows down on the way home from church Sunday morning.

Ahhhhhhhhh….

FRESH, honest to goodness, crisp but not frigid, can crack the windows open all day and not let a ton of heat/money escape as my dad will say, makes you want to garden, feel the breeze on your face and it’s awesome, air.

Car windows, down.

The weekend like the one we’ve had .. has to be one of my favorites each year.  The first real buying into the fact spring may actually be here – kind of weekend.  Where people are back out in full force.  In shorts.  Running.  Biking.  Roller blading.  Walking their dogs.  Sweating again (those running).  Fishing.  (Not in an ice shanty.)  Sitting at the Terrace, walking State Street, finally putting the Christmas tree to the curb and taking down the lights, re-introduce yourself to your neighbor, windows open kind of weekend.

I’ve hardly sat at the computer.  I’ve hardly thought to tweet.  Log onto Facebook.  Blog.  Or do anything inside since Friday night when I left work at 9pm.

It’s helped my internet at home has been down.

But the weather had us out enjoying everything we could, with no jacket required.  The warming temps actually kept the Cowboy and I from talking as much as we usually do, too.  He and his kids didn’t set foot much inside all weekend.  It was a kite flying, bike riding, playing football in the yard until bath time kind of weekend in South Dakota.

My daughter and I enjoyed a date night at the Symphony.  We moseyed around the downtown deciding where we wanted to eat versus darting from the car to exactly where we knew we were heading.  We leisurely the dogs.  I cleaned our little porch to get it ready for the first sign its okay to plant any flowers.  We pulled our hula hoops (and these are some serious hula hoops) out of storage.  And hit the barn.

Post ride. A few more moments savoring the weekend.

As I think of how beautiful it was here, I wonder if the 14 inches of snow has melted yet at my dad’s to the north ..

I’m hoping everyone had such a weekend.

Spring, welcome back, old friend …

Let her cook?

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I finally decided we were close enough to trash day yesterday .. to go ahead and dump out some old food.  Which, I hate ever doing.  Wasting food.  And throwing food out.

But when you’re living alone part of the time and still have to shop for others to be with you the other part of the time, it somehow seems inevitable.  Which is why, over the years, I’ve taken to eating out more than I should.

In trying to get back to spending less, eating healthier and being home more .. something I want for myself and that the Cowboy is encouraging me to do as well… I’m trying to get back into this cooking thing.

……

I’ve always loved to cook.  Love looking at recipes.  Love having family and friends over for meals.  I have an extensive collection of favorite cookbooks.  But at the moment, in our last move and in severely trying to downsize, I’ve pulled out only a few from the boxes.

Image

The rest, for now .. sit in storage.

I’m not sure when exactly .. I got so far away from that.  But fairly certain it was as I adjusted to a new life, during my divorce.

Six years later …

My daughter is wanting desperately to learn to cook.   So I’m trying to find the time between getting home late each evening during the week when I have her, homework, taking the dogs out, picking up and getting her to bed.  Which doesn’t leave us much time.  To cook.  Anything but buttered noodles (any pasta), rotisserie chicken and a salad.  (Yes, I know I can throw something in the crock pot.  That would require more advance planning and it just never seems to work out that we actually eat what goes in there.  A lot still gets thrown away.)  We eat a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables.  Again, really no cooking involved.  And on weekends between traveling back and forth to South Dakota, visiting family or friends here, it seems someone else is always the one at the stove.

SO… when I’m not looking:

Image

(Sorry for the close-up.)

She ‘cooks.’

Grapes.  Bananas.  Swedish Fish.  Apples.  Some sort of sugary sauce.  Pretty sure that’s what I ended up throwing out yesterday after it sat in the refrigerator for a couple days.  (No garbage disposal or it would’ve gone out much sooner.)

At 10 years old .. she whips up whatever concoction she can, whenever I turn my back or give her a few minutes alone now, while I run errands or walk the dogs.

No stove though.  One of the rules.

So she gets creative.

And she loves it.  She will also usually try and stomach eating whatever it is she’s ‘cooked’ just to prove a point.  That she’s ready to learn.

……

In writing this – I’ve learned its not only a rite of passage by doing a little research, it’s healthy in so many ways for a child to learn to cook.  Especially now that she’s learning fractions in math, cooking might be a great way to give her practical application.  Hadn’t thought about that until this moment.  And perhaps I should have done more to bring her into the kitchen years ago.

From eHow Family:

What Children Learn from Cooking

Teaching children to cook is not only a valuable life skill, but it incorporates other important skills as well. When children cook, they have a chance to practice math skills, work on following directions, learn to work with an adult and get a sense of accomplishment. Children as young as 3 can begin learning to cook.

  1. Skills for Younger Cooks (under 5)

    Reading Aged Children (5-7)

    School Aged (7 and up)

    Significance

    Fun Fact

    Warning

I waffle back and forth between wanting to fuss at her for wasting so much food (and money in the process) that would have been part of her school lunch or our dinner.  And, allowing her the space to be creative.  To cook. And I know it’s in her best interest to teach her.

So while I look for the time, I send her to look for the dish soap.  Because if she’s going to learn to cook ..

Cowboy Church … a friend asks:

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I get a very lengthy text the other night .. from a girlfriend. It was late, and the same night I posted what happens while a child walks in on two consenting adults.

“You and the Cowboy appear to be doing well, despite the stressors of life and long distance, and I am so happy for you.”

(We’ve known each other for what seems a very long time, brought together by both of our mothers having passed away of the same type of cancer. Lot of lessons in life to be learned when a parent passes away .. thoughts for another post sometime. Anyway, this discussion is much lighter hearted.)

She goes on to say, “You give me hope that there are indeed good relationships to be had, despite any previous not so good ones in my past. I am content to wait for my own cowboy to ride/walk/run into my life! Anyway… I am responding to your fabulous blog that I have so enjoyed reading. Humor me here. Two hilarious things happened this week that I feel I simply must sure with you, especially in light of your topics this past week. Ironic, with the timing really. First one, I was speaking with a patient who was a self proclaimed cowboy. In reading some of his past notes, he indeed is a true cowboy here in Wisconsin, but I came across one note hat spoke of his “priest at cowboy church.” I am as green as they come and am sure I would still call a lasso, a lasso. But is there seriously such a thing as cowboy church?”

……..

Last summer I had just been informally introduced to the Cowboy, when he started a week at Willow Creek Rodeo Bible Camp. In fact, he just reminded me that was the first time I was willing to give him my number. I figured if he was an instructor at a bible camp.. it might be safe to at least share my number. Until then we had only talked a bit via Facebook.

“Sure,” he says this morning as I show him the text. “There is a Cowboy Church. I’m not exactly sure how it got started. But it’s real.”

He reminds me, we’ve actually talked about this before.

He gave my daughter a Cowboy Bible, in fact, for Christmas. It’s just a little pocket bible she can carry around with her to hopefully use, and if nothing else, remind her He’s there for her and so is the Cowboy. He’s got them around the house for his kids, as well.

What is Cowboy Church?

We’ve looked it up to see if there’s any great explanation of where it started, why and how many there are. There’s quite a bit of information out there.

But without sending you on a wild information chase ..

Its non-denominational. It’s usually held not necessarily on Sundays but usually at a horse event, such as a rodeo, horse show, roping. Whatever. And it can be in the stands, the arena or at a horse trailer.

The Cowboy believes it exists out of the reality 1) many cowboys/cowgirls and their families either live far from town/church and are busy tending to the ranch on Sundays to make a usual church service so at one time, it may have been born out of necessity and/or 2) if you rodeo, you’re gone most of the time and not near your own church. You’re traveling, or getting ready for the competition on Sunday afternoon. So you gather on the road. Someone is usually leading the group, either a certified pastor or just someone who is comfortable in that role..

Cowboys and cowgirls, get together, give testimony, sing songs and worship.

The Cowboy says he went to a lot of rodeo bible camps when he was a kid..

As an adult .. he appreciates the opportunity to give back.

Rodeo Bible Camp

So .. my dear friend, if my own past serves as any sort of a lesson, go with your gut. Allow yourself to trust someone again, especially if he seems like a good guy. In fact if you haven’t already, now, may be a good time to give him your number. You never know when that Cowboy may come riding in … get back on that horse. (take that however you want.) And if nothing else, let him take you to church.

http://cowboychurch.net/about.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cowboy_church

Runners étiquette ..

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We hadn’t gone far Saturday morning..

When we ran across another runner.

“Hi,” I said …

“Hi,” … she replied.  Smiling.

The Cowboy was running alongside me.  He said nothing.  The only sound coming from him, now a step in front of me to make room on the path for the other runner .. was his breathing and the sound of his shoes hitting the bare pavement.

“Hey,” I said.  “I’ve never asked, but do you know runner’s etiquette?”

The Cowboy starts laughing…

“You remember where I live, right?” says the Cowboy.  Now we’re both laughing.  “The only thing I run by when I go running… are some cows.”

…….

I love that I live in a city full of runners.  Long distance, short distance, professionals and novice runners.  And I couldn’t live on a bigger thoroughfare for athletes in this town.  I’m just a hop, skip and a jump from the main loop many train on each day, so hitting the path to do something I’ve done since I was just a little kid, do now to stay in shape and enjoy immensely, is easy.

While it may seem like you just go out and jog.. there are some rules runners live by.  (Despite being a runner, I do not know them all..)

First, say hello when you pass another runner.  Or at the very least, a small wave as you glance over and keep going on your journey.  When others are on the path, or if you’re on a sidewalk, stay in your ‘lane’.  If someone is coming at you, stay to your right.  If you’re on the street because there are no sidewalks, do the exact opposite.  Run into traffic so that they can better see you and you them.  Keep your shoes tied.  Your head up, unless you’re running a big hill and then sometimes its better to look down right in front of where you’ll take your next step so that the hill doesn’t look so intimidating.  Long distance runs?  Strike heel to toe, don’t land on the ball of your foot.  Sprinting is another story.  And breathe.  Probably the most important there.  Some of those last points weren’t etiquette.  Just good advice I’ve gotten over the years.  I think.  Take it or leave it.

One more thing, if you’re running with a dog.. or even walking, pick up after it for the love of Pete.  (Don’t ask who Pete is.  Just needed a name there.  And picking up after them, a discussion yet to come..)

The first time I took the Cowboy running with the dogs, he had one of their leashes full out and almost clotheslined a biker who expected that as they got closer, the dogs leash would get shorter and the dog out of his way.  If I weren’t laughing so hard trying to help the Cowboy reign in the dog.. I might have been mortified.

As we laugh.. there is a seriousness to it all.  And a system.  And we chuckle as we get ready to head out on another run..  they forgot to add, ‘say hello’.

There are over 40 miles of bicycle paths in Madison. These paths are used by a variety of users; including bicycle commuters, recreational bicyclists, families, pedestrians and skaters. By following a few basic rules, these paths can be shared safely by all users.

  • All users should keep to the rightside of the path, except to pass.
  • When traveling side-by-side, stay on the right half of the path.
  • Faster users should yield to slower users.
  • Always travel at a safe speed,with due regard for others. Faster users may want to consider alternate routes to ensure the safety of all users.
  • Pass others on the left by slowing down, giving an audible warning such as calling out, “Excuse me, passing left”, and waiting for a reaction before passing.
  • Move off the pathway when stopping.
  • Be careful when crossing streets and driveways. Watch for traffic and make sure other drivers are aware of the path and your presence.

The South Shore …

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We had planned this weekend for months.

Had it not been on the calendar, I would have still needed a getaway.  My dad’s .. quiet, calm and as far away from the chaos of my everyday.. at least as far as I could get in the state of Wisconsin, was the perfect getaway.

“Wish we could be there,” said the Cowboy, several times as we talked on the phone.

He had the kids this weekend and the hope was we’d all meet there.  But, the drive is just too much for the short time they all have together on any given weekend.   Some other time, we agreed … soon.

……

The temperatures on Sunday had warmed up to a balmy 20 degrees..

So before leaving to head back home… we decided it might be fun to hit the beach.

Explaining chaos of the ice

With half of Chequamegon Bay near Bayfield still open, the ice where it was frozen, was spectacular.

Even more precious, to me anyway..

As I grabbed a few things from the car, to look up and already see my dad, explaining to my daughter, why the ice was all chunked up along the shoreline versus what she might be used to seeing on the lakes at home.

Sandy Shores of Lake Superior

We spend time on this shore as often as we can during the summer, this was our first trip during the cold months of winter.  (The water during the summer, doesn’t seem like it is much warmer than it would be to take a swim at the moment, either.)

With the open water from the rest of the bay, seeping where it can under the the ice..  there is this low, eery but beautiful, constant growl.

“Can you hear that, mom?” shouted my 10 year old.  “Did you hear that?!  What is that?” she asks from a distance as she pokes at the shoreline with a stick she’s found.  Dogs in tow.

Who needs a tennis ball. New game of fetch ..

Looking at this photo, I think its time my dog had her nails trimmed.

Sorry, sidetracked ..

Wish we could have stayed longer.  At the beach.  And at my dads.  I know my daughter felt the same, because she made that very comment, as we began the drive back home.

Had the dogs had a vote, I’m pretty sure they would have agreed.  At least before crashing in the back seat, exhausted from a weekend of running around.

I, on the other hand, enjoyed doing a whole lot of nothing other than spending total down time with two of the people I love most (only wish a few others, including the Cowboy and his little people could have joined us).  And am refreshed, ready to face the beautiful chaos of a new week.

At my dads..

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It was a late night of driving up into the northwoods of northern Wisconsin..

The two lane highway last night once we were north of Minocqua was pretty quiet.  There was an occasional car.  Otherwise, only the wind was howling..

We pulled onto the dirt road heading to my dads at about 2:30 this morning.

…

February, unfortunatley is a month I can not take any time off of work unless death is knocking on the door.  Sincerely.  I work in news.  Ad rates are based off of ratings four months out of the year.  Which means no time off.  So we didn’t leave town for the 6 hour drive until about 8 o’clock last night. 

I’m usually up late nights, so that part wasn’t a big deal.  But I’m not always a fan of driving in rural areas at that hour. 

We were dodging deer.  Random snowdrifts across the road.  People leaving the bars in their vehicles and on snowmobile.  And, worst of all, try finding somewhere in northern Wisconsin open to use the bathroom in subzero temps just after midnight.  Not an easy task.

But my dad wants more time with us.  And us with him. 

And its been too long since we made the trip north.  SO.. we packed up the the car, all of our winter weather gear, skiis, skates, snacks and the dogs and .. arrived in the wee hours of the morning.

….

We slept in.

It’s below zero. 

Still….

We might go skiing.

We brought our ice skates.

We fed the birds.

We’ve watched our two labs run around like this is the time of their life.  NO leash, lots of animal scents to check out and no one else as far as the eye can see is like heaven for a dog.

Its almost 2pm and we’re just eating breakfast.

I feel like I’m in heaven.

While there are a ton of things we COULD be doing, running from one thing to the next, which often is my norm, we are doing much of nothing today.  Except spend time together.

Quality time.

In fact I just spent the past two hours on the computer with my dad.  Teaching him how to use something most of us use everyday and take for granted that it’s easy.  It isn’t for him. I have never understood why. I’ve been frustated he wouldn’t use it more to keep in touch with us.  And, I never would have understood why.  Had I not taken the opportunity today to just be still, and spend time with him this morning.

I’m going to write about why that was cathartic later tonight, perhaps.

But for now.. I’m going to eat the delicious breakfast he just made that reminds me of all the weekend mornings he used to cook for us when we were kids.

Nothing like cheese smothered eggs

(I’ll post pictures later, have some fun ones of today but can’t figure out on his computer where to download the pics off my camera!)

The Cowboy’s mom wrote about the importance of time in her plea this week to South Dakota state legislators in regard to passage of bills that give children in divorce, equal time wherever and whenever in their best interest, with both parents.  I won’t dwell on that.  What struck me as I was thinking about what I wanted to write today.. was the theme of time.

And how when we have it, or the opportunity to have it especially with family, it is a gift.

My mom isn’t around anymore.  She’s been gone now, almost 11 years.  I miss her more than anything.  And the last thing I did before leaving our house for the drive here last night, was touch the photo I have of her on my dresser.  I have many others who are like a mom to me – for so many reasons.  I love them all dearly.  So does my daughter and I want for her to know how each of them has played a role in who I am today.  At some point this year, you’ll meet them too, if you stick around long enough. 

But my mom, is gone.  And I would give anything for more time with her..

I know my dad would too. 

We’ll ony be here a day and a half, and have to head home.

Down time ...

But I know the time with him is precious.  We need to make more late night drives.

First time for everything ..

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I wake to find the Cowboy sitting at the keyboard, once again.

“I did my first tweet,” he laughs.  “I tweeted.”

We are both back at the computer, me to check on a few things, look for story ideas and share some thoughts here before I hopefully squeeze in a run before work today.

Him, to continue gathering information and thoughts before his trip back home and to Pierre this Thursday morning.

The Cowboy has been at the computer a lot lately.

In fact, he told me yesterday, he hasn’t worked this much on the computer since college.

If you haven’t read a couple of my earlier posts that would explain what any of this is about.. It’s all in preparation of testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee this week.

The Cowboy plans to testify along with some others, about why he feels the South Dakota state legislature should support a law allowing both parents in a divorce to have time and placement with their children.  There are two options.  One would be a step above current law.  The other (below) would be a tremendous step forward.

http://legis.state.sd.us/sessions/2012/Bills/SB60P.pdf

Current statute in South Dakota dictates it is in the best interest of a child to live almost exclusively with one parent.

http://www.sdjudicial.com/uploads/forms/ProSeDivorceForms/UJS%20302%20-%20South%20Dakota%20Visitation%20Guidelines.pdf

And it has torn countless families apart, we’re learning.  The Cowboy has been taking an increasing number of calls from other parents who want to help raise their kids, but who, through divorce have been deliberately alienated from their children.

The Cowboy, by the way, has tried calling his kids everyday – once a day since seeing them last.  He gets a few hours after school with them each Wednesday.  Just one phone call has been allowed.  That was on Thursday this past week.  He hasn’t been allowed to speak to his children since.

We’re just never sure why that is.  Especially when the kids ask him to call more often.

It’s sad he is left in this scenario with two choices;  tell them he does call but for some reason their mother doesn’t answer .. or tell them they’re right, he should call more often leaving them to believe their dad doesn’t care or want to be more a part of their lives.  No one wins here.  Including the kids.

Which is why .. the Cowboy sits at the computer again today.  Making sure he’s maximizing awareness these two shared parenting bills are coming up for debate.

Given the lack of publicity, the Cowboy felt a bit defeated this weekend, that no one really cares.

I remind him, it’s enough that he does.  Because there are many, many others out there who like him, aren’t sure what to do about their own devastating situation.  Someone needs to be their voice.

Tweet, testimony, or otherwise.  I’m pretty sure he feels good to be doing ‘something’ to work toward positive change.  If not in his own situation, hopefully for others.

What I do know for certain, is that he’s looking forward to the day twitter is no longer in his vocabulary, he can get back shoeing horses (winter fortunately is a slow time of year for work) and the work he enjoys most.

That is being a dad.

Serving up breakfast

Cowboy Ethics ..

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I think there is power in having what you stand for, in black and white..

Or whatever color ink you prefer, on paper.  Written down.  That you can look at each day and remember with conviction, how you want to live your life.

The Cowboy posted this the other day ..

I love it.

And there are few days that go by where I don’t look at the Cowboy with amazement at how much he lives by (not sure that he always has, but he certainly is now) the Code.

Good reminders for us all.

I have two signs of my own, hanging up in my home.  I’m not sure who glances at them besides me.  But I remind my daughter often if she wonders where I stand on things, to give them a glance.

While one reflects more of the same values the Cowboy Code does and has a lot more points to consider..

The other is pretty simple:

One of my 'codes'

It makes me laugh.  And reminds me to let those who prefer drama and the degradation of others in this life, to play it out on their own.

While ‘be nice or leave’ may not specifically fall as stated on the top ten list for the Cowboy Ethics..

The Cowboy likes it.  And I’m pretty sure it might fall under #10.

(late add)  The Cowboy says we should add a #11 – Remember your Gold Toe socks.

The title of my story, she says ..

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How often do you have those moments of clarity?

Clarity where, as a parent, you don’t worry so much about if you’re setting a good example, you see something spark in your child and you just know, they’re going to be okay.  That you’re not a horrible parent and they’ve gotten more from you than you ever dreamed.

That the temper tantrum last night was for you – and the rest of the world may see a very different young lady.

…

I grabbed the Cowboy the other day and we quickly ran over the lunch hour to my daughters school.  Every child in the class had written a story about something that was important to them, where they had maybe learned something and would want to share.

They’ve done this once already this year and it was priceless.  The things kids come up with, put in writing and aren’t afraid to say, we might all not only get a good chuckle out of, but learn from.  Last time, my daughter wrote about her cats.  Well, our cats.  And what they meant to her.

I had no idea what her story was about this time around.

With her dad, myself and the Cowboy in the audience among many other parents.. the teacher called her name.  She went and sat in the reading chair.

“The title of my story is, Saving Lives.” she says.

She proceeds to read the story she wrote;  recollections and emotions surrounding the day she and I years ago had to stop for a kitten lumbering across the middle of a country road.  We stopped to move it out of the way so it wouldn’t get run over.  And realized quickly, no one was caring for this sweet little thing.  It was very, very sick and its eyes were so clouded over with puss it had no idea it was walking into the middle of not just a road, but its own demise.  Or, maybe it did.  The poor thing was miserable and alone.

We picked it up, wrapped it in a towel we had as we were heading to our friends cottage on a nearby lake.

And the following day, after giving it as much love and tlc as we could, took it to the Humane Society to see if anything could be done to save it.

Days later… we got the call.  It had passed.

My daughter cried.  She felt like she couldn’t go on.  (Not only was she feeling that way at the time, this was in her story..)  She has one of the biggest, kindest hearts, not just for animals but people as well.  And while I often don’t get or take the time to see it (due to tight schedules, homework, only having her part-time, arguments, her talking back, growing up and asserting independence and the everyday little things we do that frustrate each other) .. that afternoon at school, I was reminded acutely of what a kind soul my little 10 year old is.

She wrote about that day.  But she also wrote about what it taught her.  And as I sat and listened .. I glanced over at the Cowboy.  He smiled at me.  ‘Wow,’ he whispered.

I perhaps should have turned around and given her dad a glance and a smile.  But I am just never sure what he thinks of the influence I have on her.  Given this story was all about our day and what she learned from it, I didn’t know if turning around to catch his eye would make him smile or .. well, frustrate him further.  I hope for the former.

Regardless, she found a lesson in it all, about life.

“Love things while you have them.”

It is a lesson I perhaps learned as well when I was younger.  But it’s one I have been reminded of countless times, especially through loss over the years, in my life.

Not only was her story and what she pulled out of that day something to celebrate, but she read aloud, annunciated, gave the right inflection at the right time and looked up and smiled at all of us when she was done.

Clarity.

Clarity that this day is good, that she can be and is strong, that she is insightful.  That she is learning how to communicate well and write.  That she loves her mom and dad and it means the world to her that either of us/we’re both there to help her celebrate her accomplishments.  That the little things count.  And that she is listening.

With the teen years fast approaching, that alone is something I know I need to appreciate while I have it.