Category Archives: South Dakota

‘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 …

“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 …

(A Different) Perspective … A Friend Writes.

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I’m not sure that my comments to the Cowboy are of any reassurance during weeks like this.

Weeks, where it’s the tail end of the two weeks essentially, without the kids.

I can’t imagine being in his shoes.. or ever putting someone else in the position he’s in.  But I’m increasingly becoming aware of how many people are.  In his shoes.  Parents who essentially are told they should appreciate any time they get to ‘visit’ their children.

And on the flipside, in the position of the other parent in many divorce scenarios.  The parent, given primary placement.  The one who gets most of the time with and control over the kids.  And how that can sometimes look.

It’s been an emotional past couple weeks.

It seems the further out he gets from the divorce and the less he continues to see the kids, with each passing day, month or now year .. the tougher it is for him to feel like he can really be a father to them.  The father he wants and hopes to be, anyway.  A few hours each week sitting in a restaurant because there’s not enough time now to go home or good weather to go to a park and play .. and four weekend days each month, is hardly enough time to get anyone back into a good groove.

Just when dad and kids seem to be settled in and getting reacquainted.. it’s time to pack for the trip back to their other home.

………..

Fortunately, more states are recognizing, through time, experience, and statistics .. the rules need to change.  In not all, but most scenarios.  Where two loving, responsible, protective parents both want to be a part of raising their children, and be present in their lives.

http://www.wctrib.com/event/article/id/90932/

Things will change.  Someday.  As more and more states.  And more and more parents, left on the outside looking in at their children’s lives for no apparent good reason other than a judge’s orders, decide that instead of giving up because nothing will change and it only causes more pain to try .. instead, keep trying.  Because it does matter.  Not just to them, but their kids.  That they are not alone.  And the more they come together and speak with one voice, someone will hear them.

But will it come soon enough for some families to heal.

……….

I mentioned it has been a tough couple weeks.

I can always tell when we’re a week into his time without the kids .. because there is an unshakeable sadness.  No matter what the Cowboy says to me, I know its eating at him.  That he hasn’t seen them.  That if he wants to talk with them, its dictated to him how that has to happen.  Yet the conditions are at times not met on the side giving dictation.

When there is a call, it’s quick.  Then usually .. ‘they’re busy and need to go.’

The few hours he had the chance to spend with them this past mid-week .. for many reasons, was emotionally overwhelming and tough.  And because of the weather, the circumstances and one of the boys crying for his mother, he took them home in heavy frustration and sadness a half hour early.  For a man who would give anything for extra time with his children .. this has all been very trying .. emotionally, physically and spiritually.

Not knowing what else to say .. because really, what can you .. I say, well then, let’s pray.

And, then I add.. “They’re healthy.  Let’s just be grateful they are healthy.  The rest will fall into place.  I don’t know when.  But it will.”

He agrees.  I’m not sure he wholeheartedly believes me.  But for the moment, he agrees.

………..

I wasn’t going to write about this today .. I was going to instead, write about another lesson learned by the Cowboy after spending more time than he’d probably like in the city .. (Because we have some great, entertaining lessons yet to be shared.  Like parking tickets.)

But I was reminded again today of why the health of our children, is above everything else, what is most critical.  I am actually, reminded of it daily.  Through my job, I see families put in situations that would bring any of us to our knees.  I have close friends who have lost a child.  And, who have children with severe disabilities.  I thank God each and every day my own daughter is healthy.  There is sincerely not a day that I take that for granted.

I saw this afternoon, a tweet from a dear friend of mine.  A friend I don’t talk with as much as I’d like anymore.  We’re all busy.  But I see it, and I shudder to think based on the content of the tweet, what might be happening.

I message him, ‘Just seeing this.  What is going on?  Are you all OK?’

He shoots back moments later, ‘We’re OK. This explains:’ and he sends me the following link.

‘Lessons from a young Skywalker:’

http://www.espnmilwaukee.com/common/more.php?m=49&post_id=7074

……….

Again, I’m not sure any of my comments or anyone’s are helpful to the Cowboy.  Reassuring.  Or comforting given the struggles he’s facing.

Only he knows.  And honestly, only he can figure out how to work through this stage of his family’s young .. challenging life.  Through his relationship with himself.  God.  And his faith in both.  Something right now, he’s giving everything he’s got.

……….

A wonderful opportunity presented itself this afternoon ..

The gift of a few extra hours with the kids to kick off the weekend.  The Cowboy got a call asking if he wanted to pick them up early.  No one is asking why.  Mom could have had something else she wanted to do this afternoon and it saved her from postponing or getting a sitter.  Or, she could have genuinely wanted to give them all more time together.

No one’s asking why.  Just celebrating the moments.

And grateful to their mother, for offering them up.

How seldom or how often any of us can ever have the chance to spend time with our kids, to hold them, hug them and be present with them, is such a gift.

Reassurance they are also healthy ..

I’m praying tonight, my friend Jason and his family continue to get nothing but the best news .. and care for their young Skywalker, in the meantime.

Cowboy in the City – Lessons Learned Number Two..

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Neither of us can remember exactly what it was we were talking about a few months back … when the Cowboy said something that made me gasp.

“Um, honey … I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling you what to do,” I said.

“But, do you know what that term means?”

A bit taken aback, the Cowboy says, “I guess, but I don’t ever really think about it.  Everyone I know says it.  Why, don’t people here use it?  It just means ….”

Having used the term a few times myself growing up because everyone around me said it as well .. before I really thought about what it meant;

“Not really.  Especially around here.  Can we agree you will be more careful with that?”

………

“Good judgement comes from bad experience.  And most of the time, that comes from bad judgement.” –

The Cowboy found this quote and thought it appropriate in the context of this post.

………

I live in the politically correct capital of the world.

One of them, anyway.  So it is easy to mess up.  It seems near impossible to keep up with the latest words one should use .. or more likely, that you shouldn’t.

It is so politically correct here, I actually felt on my Facebook status update the other night when I posted I thought I might head home and build a snowman after a spring snowstorm .. a snow perfect for packing .. that I should change it to ‘snowperson’ or someone might be offended and correct me.

We laughed about that one..

I’m even a bit apprehensive someone will feel I’m not being pc .. writing about being bc.  Sheesh.

“What do they call Indians here,” he asks last night as we’re talking about all this.  We were hanging out chatting, late again, over the video phone.  “In South Dakota, I’m pretty sure they prefer Indian.  I’m part Indian.  We don’t say, I’m (part) Native American.  That’s how we talk.  Even that is not accepted there?”

My alma mater no longer the Indians.

It may be.  In some parts, anyway.  Others may coil at the sound and tell you you’re wrong to say it.

I’m so sensitized, for many reasons, to not wanting to offend anyone …

That another term the Cowboy uses once in awhile and that I recently heard his grandmother affectionately say to one his boys, hit me as probably a very un-pc term.

I asked him about it..

“Jigger?” he replied.  “That’s not a derogatory term.  It’s just a little bug.”

Yep.  Looked it up.  Can be an insect.  (There are several other definitions as well.  None that should be offensive.  Unless you’re referring to someone as say, a shot glass.  Or a fishing lure.)  But it still sounds like it shouldn’t be okay to me when I hear it.  I have never heard anyone use that term until South Dakota.  Around here, we have a lot of other names for kids when they’re doing cute things.
Like, little bugger.  Lil stinker.  Lil .. well, I’ve never heard lil jigger.  But, I’m learning it’s ok.
Learning that while its important to treat others with respect, it’s probably ok to ease up a bit too over fears of offending someone.

Even with good intentions.. Have we taken pc too far?

A lot has been written about the topic.  Just a couple posts I found..

http://www.experience.com/alumnus/article?channel_id=diversity&source_page=editor_picks&article_id=article_115574490604

http://davidhallstrom.articlealley.com/the-act-of-being-politically-correct-has-gone-from-the-sublime-to-the-ridiculous-19236.html

I truly believe most people have a good heart .. and they try to be kind and considerate of others feelings, beliefs and who they are.  They just may not always be up on the latest terms for what they should ever call something.  Or know anything about someone’s religion or culture.  And over concern of being politically incorrect, they refrain from learning or asking or saying anything, out of fear they will offend.

I like this particular post below.  And think the Cowboy would too.  If nothing else, it’s good food for thought.

http://www.wikihow.com/Be-Correct-by-Not-Being-Politically-Correct

There are only a few terms even the Cowboy agrees, should probably be removed from his vocabulary.  But others I’m happy to hear someone not afraid to say.  And he can go right ahead and hang onto.  That reflect who he is.  Where he is from.  And the kind of person he is.   Down to earth.  Straightforward.  Good.  Curious.  Open to whatever is out there.  And willing to change.  Should it be necessary.

He says to me as I’m asking him about this .. “I really like where you live.  I love to visit. But, I’m far more comfortable in central Texas.  Where everyone wears cowboy boots and says whatever the hell they want.  You don’t have to worry about who you’re pissing off.”

He laughs.

Nonchalantly he says in-between our banter, “C’mon you son-of-a-buck,” as he’s waiting for something he’s searching for to come up on his phone.

“I probably swear more than I should,” he looks over at me via the video phone.

He laughs some more.  Then adds..

“But you swear just as much as I do.  If not more.  Maybe that’s something we should talk about … “

What the Cowboy Says He’s Learned in the City. No. 1 ..

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I wonder if I didn’t have to stop to pick up after the dogs … how long it would actually take me on my run each morning.

……

Many of my friends really seem to enjoy talking with the Cowboy.  The cowboys.  My ‘city’ friends too.  They are always asking him about some of the things he does, they know little to nothing about.  Things that back home for him (or even 20 miles outside Madison), are everyday things that everyone knows about and ask rarely for explanation.  Even the posts I happen to write about anything cowboy way-of-life here on the blog, seem to consistently get the most hits.

The Cowboy asked me the other day, what are you going to write about today.  I answer, “It hasn’t hit me yet.”

So he says, “You should write a blog about what I’ve learned from you.”

I laugh …

“I’m not so sure I know what you’ve learned from me,” I say at first.

Plus that isn’t as interesting, I say to myself.

He starts down the list of things he’s learned.

“How about, picking up dog poop.”

He laughs…

………..

The first few times the Cowboy visited this past fall, after I decided to stop being a vagabond (I house sat for awhile after selling my own home just over a year ago, not sure where or if I wanted to plant firm roots anywhere again, yet) and settle into my own place ..

He offered to walk my dogs while I was either a) getting ready to go wherever it was we were heading off to or b) at work.

I came home one afternoon after work and happened to see a big pile of evidence he had most likely been in the back yard of the apartment building with the dogs while I was gone.  But hadn’t quite completed all the steps of ‘taking the dogs out’.

“Is that from one of ours?” I ask.

“Probably,” he says.  “I took them out awhile ago.”

I head out to pick up after them.  And then we have ‘the talk.’

“I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got to pick up after them,” I say.  “I know that’s not a fun job, so if you want to leave that for me, I’ll get to it.  But just know, it’s got to be picked up.”

I’ve been doing it for about as long as I can remember.  Always had dogs.  Always lived where it needed to be picked up.

I used to use Oops Scoops.  But they seem harder anymore to use the cardboard piece inside .. to pick up the pile.  I find myself chasing the pieces around on the grass more than I am picking them up.

So I’ve reverted back to biodegradable small plastic baggies.  Which, used to totally gross me out, but they’re quick, convenient and they just work.

http://tlc.howstuffworks.com/home/green-pet-poop.htm

……..

“You have to pick up after your dogs,” he starts laughing.  “That’s a new one for me.  I live in the country .. never had to do that one.”

For a man used to turning ’em out, letting them run, having them do their business in a pasture or nearby grove of trees and them coming back when they are through… he’s gotten the hang of it all.  Now when I even think of asking if everything is taken care of.. he beats me to the punch.

“Yep.  All taken care of,” he usually says, smiling.

The dogs, couldn’t be happier.  I’m not so sure about the Cowboy.

I promised though, to not even consider asking for help..

With the cats.

Words to live by …. or not.

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I saw a friend post a list of ‘words to live by’ today on his FB page.

Most of them are true and totally cracked me up.  Below are a couple that I laughed at and had to share.

‎1. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

7. Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good Evening,’ and then proceed to tell you why it isn’t.

28. I always take life with a grain of salt. Plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

Because we are on the fly today, left early this morning.. are on the road.. in meetings and tonight I have a gig …. I don’t want to think too much.  Which, I usually at the very least, try to do at the very least, a little of before I actually post something.  So today, I’ve decided to focus on other people’s wisdom.  Which makes me feel I should add as well:

8. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

The Cowboy .. has done a bit of both this week, too.  Posting infinite bits of wisdom.

I grabbed the following off his FB page, posts he made this week.  And I was reminded they were on there.. because he used one of them again this morning on a friend..

“Never be too good at something you don’t want to do too much of.”

“You know you’re doing real work if you have to wash your hands before you go to the bathroom.”

“You can’t make a silk purse out of a sows ear.”

The Cowboy adds, “But you can make a real nice sows ear purse.”

– Cowboy Wisdom

May not always be wise, says the Cowboy.  But usually it’s pretty honest.

With that .. we are back on the road.

Picking up good vibrations …

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Bet some of you will never hear that tune the same way again..

OK.

So this isn’t a topic the Cowboy and I have discussed much.  I’m not sure we will .. either.  You never know.  But at the very least, we got a good laugh out of what is prompting this post.

(I’ve come to realize in writing about our conversations, that we laugh a lot.  Which is just a really good thing in life.)

*This would be the other half of the text message I got the other night from a girlfriend.. the one I referenced at the top of my last post about Cowboy Church.  You know the second part of the ‘two hilarious things happened this week that I feel I simply must share with you, especially in light of your blog topics this past week’ she wrote.

Three things to keep in mind here:

1.)  I didn’t include this in yesterday’s post because .. well, it just didn’t feel quite right to put this one in the same conversation as church.

2.)  She sent this the same night I shared a girlfriends recap of a conversation she had with her son, after learning he had apparently at one point, walked in on her and her husband having sex.  So this is relevant.

3.)  This whole project.. writing something or at the very least trying, each day for a year as a gift I hope someday to my daughter .. one might think I shouldn’t include this.  But no one ever had this talk with me.  Not until I was like, way old.  About the topic at all.  And it’s probably not good to be totally ignorant.  Like I was about far too many things coming from a small town where you just didn’t talk about anything even remotely risqué.  Or parents that went there either.  I vividly remember the first time a girlfriend started talking about her ‘rabbit’.  I had no clue what she was talking about.  We got the best laugh.  After I came out of shock.  Being blissfully ignorant has its perks, too.  I think.  But, a lot of my girlfriends and even my guy friends are stunned at how non-versed in the following, I am.  Should I admit this?  I don’t know.  But it is what it is.

Oh, and I should probably add this …

4.)  Disclaimer:  going on is not for the faint of heart.  Or anyone that might consider themselves a prude.  And don’t judge me on this.  I’m just relaying the text and trying to do what I always do for my friends.. either be a sounding board, or help them find some answers.  By the way, this is a $15 billion industry and apparently growing.

http://www.cnbc.com/id/43839344/Sex_Toy_Sales_Surge

So someone’s talking (ahem, using) about all of this.  Whether you admit it or not.

5.)  I usually love to add photos.  I think it makes any writing that much more rich and vivid.  But .. there will be none today.

……..

The text stated:

“Secondly, no sex going on here unfortunately for my kids to walk in on.”  She is a couple years out now from her divorce.

“But,” she adds …

“Does anyone want to offer up suggestions on how I should explain the special item that my 11 year old found in my bed that I forgot to put away?!  I said we would discuss the ‘pink thing’ in the near future!  I am still giggling about the confused look on her face!”

She’s wondering what advice I/we might have for her on that one.

Surprisingly, there seems more advice on the world wide web for this topic than the child walking in on sex discussion.

I personally got nothing for ya, my dear friend.  Other than maybe don’t forget to put it away next time.  And find a good bedside table with a drawer that locks.

One resource I love to turn to for insight every now and then .. is Your Tango.  If you’ve never checked out their brutal honesty on all things relationship:

http://www.yourtango.com/200928406/my-son-found-my-vibrator

Here’s another person’s blog on the topic that almost had me on the floor .. laughing, here a few seconds ago.  I’m not sure how good it is, but there is specific language offered to help a parent and child through the situation:

http://notafraidtoask.blogspot.com/2008/02/vibrator-vibrator-whos-found-vibrator.html

Otherwise, I was just with an old classmate last weekend who now essentially works in that whole arena.  She has built a career out of doing direct sales for a company called Pure Romance.  So no holds barred.  When I mentioned your text to her on Saturday, it quickly became a very open conversation with about 8 people standing around us.  SHE is apparently very comfortable having this conversation and has suggestions.  So let me connect you.

In the meantime, I feel like I need to go to church.  Or something along those lines.

I’ve learned since the last post on Cowboy Church, there are apparently plenty of options nearby.  It seems you don’t need a rodeo.  To be on the road.  Or sitting in the stands somewhere.  Cowboy Church can be also found, close to home.  I’ve learned quickly, many feel we have great options nearby.

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

Proclaiming proudly …

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I’m not sure if I feel like celebrating .. or breaking down crying over the fact my baby girl is not at all a baby anymore.

“I got my first zit,” she excitedly tells the Cowboy over the phone last night.

I’m not even sure we’ve shared that yet with her dad.

I hope so, though.  Because in a very weird way, it feels like that is a major milestone.  And I know she’s been on the phone with him at least a couple times in the past 24 hours.  I tell her we’ll get her some things so that she can start taking better care of her skin and face.

……

This discovery comes not long before we head out the door.  And because we had some time to kill before going to a movie .. we stopped at the mall.  I haven’t gone for myself in a very long time, so I was curious to stop in a few stores that I used to like to frequent.  See what might be new for spring.  And while I didn’t see anything that appealed to me, my daughter did.

Not little girls shoes ..

“Is it okay if I try on this pair of shoes?” she asks of an adorable pair of red kitten heels.

I laugh and say, “I’m sure it is.”

I didn’t think they would actually fit her.  Last I knew she was maybe a size 4 shoe at best.  And measuring below my shoulders.  What happened in the past week?

“C’mon.. let’s go,” I say.  A bit flustered at how much she’s grown.

“Mom….” she says as she sees a coat on the way out she really likes.  She asks me to hold her jacket while she takes off her ski coat and tries on a misses black leather jacket with a fur collar.

“I LOVE this jacket, mom,” she says.

Great, I’m thinking to myself.

“Okay.. well, when you can save up, we’ll look at getting it for you.”

…….

It’s all part of a wonderful series of changes happening right now.  Changes she is celebrating and wanting to talk a lot about.  Very different from what I remember wanting to do when I was growing up.  I dreaded any changes.  Rarely were those things talked about when I was a child.  Not at home.  And not amongst friends.  Or relaying to the world.  Especially a zit.

But she’s pretty happy about it.  So I guess I’m sharing it too …

A day late because my girl who is growing up .. crawled into my lap late the other night as I sat on the couch catching up on the video phone with the Cowboy.  After sharing the big news about her zit, and hanging up to go put her back to bed.. I decided, it wasn’t much longer she’d want to curl up on my lap, or that I could hold her.

We both fell asleep there …