Tag Archives: South Dakota

Mindless blogs and Making the most of our time ..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……………

Now I’m not done with James just yet.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s cool if you don’t, too.

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

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

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

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

Best to you all ..

A True Cowgirl …

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Let me just start by saying, I will never pretend to be a True Cowgirl.

cow·girl  n.  A hired woman, especially in the western United States, who tends cattle and performs many of her duties on horseback.

I love the life, the lifestyle and am incredibly appreciative of the opportunity to do more things considered Cowgirl since meeting the Cowboy.  But despite the fact I’ve worn cowboy boots since earning enough to buy my first pair as a teen, love country music and all it stands for and have always wanted to live at the end of a dirt road .. I’ve never called myself a cowgirl and know it’ll take awhile to earn the stripes associated with the title, if ever.

Especially after the events of this week.

………..

We have worked a lot around the Cowboy’s ranch this week.

We’ve also ridden each day.  For hours.  Down dirt roads, through fields, in arenas …

Learning the flag race ..

Around barrels.

And unfortunately for me .. I also rode this week, into a barrel.

It’s happened only once out of all the runs we’ve ever taken.  But I took a pretty good chunk of skin out of my shin.

(Apparently real cowgirls, some of them anyway.. the Cowboy says ones who have horses who like to ‘dive at the barrel’ wear shin guards because they have the gift of that experience.  But I’m thinking most don’t, because true cowboys would most likely make fun of a cowgirl who wears shinguards.)

Anyway, days later the leg still smarts.

But not as much as it did before.   Because I now have a few new aches and pains to help take my mind off a sore leg.

………..

We no more than got Ol Joe saddled up yesterday (the Cowboy’s roping horse, who I have been riding all week and every time we’ve been to the ranch), and into the arena with the girls on their horses ..

And he threw me.

It was a valiant effort to stay on, mind you.  I’m sure of it .. (lmao)

But I ended up on the ground.

While I have prepared mentally for that moment for years .. until it happens, I’m pretty sure you can’t really appreciate how little control you have over how you fall.  Unless like bronc riders for instance, you practice .. A LOT.

Regardless, it was the first time I’ve ever been thrown.  And as I lay there in the dirt having hit my tailbone a couple times on the saddle and then my head on the ground after bracing the fall with my arm .. I assessed just what really hurt.

And then the thoughts creeped in .. that a true cowgirl both would know how to ride through something like that .. and that she would also probably get up faster than I was.

I hear crying over to my left ..

I’m still laying there.  “I’m fine,” I say.

The girls, both now standing nearby on their own horses, were upset and worried.

“Are you okay?” says the Cowboys daughter .. mine saying in unison,  “Mom, are you okay?”

I hear more crying.

I start laughing to reassure them that I am, or will be shortly, just fine.

“Really,” I say.  “Just give me a minute.”

I’m still laying in the dirt.  I laugh some more.  And think, that’s about how my own mother would have handled it.  Laugh through the pain.

I got up .. slowly.  Dusted myself off.  And went to help them get Ol Joe back into the arena.

The Cowboy rode him for a few minutes.

And then I got back on.  I wasn’t sure my body was ready for it.  But the Cowboy made me.  Which in hindsight, I appreciate.

…………

“You haven’t ridden enough if you haven’t been bucked off at least once,” the Cowboy tells me.

So .. this was a good thing, I guess.

I may not be a true cowgirl.  But I’m on my way perhaps to better understanding what it takes to be one ..

And as we talk this morning about saddling Joe and the other horses back up ..

I’m enjoying every painful step of walking around, getting ready to head back out again, to ride.

Calving season ..

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Along with truly wanting to take some down time while here on vacation.. we have wanted to get a lot done this week at the Cowboy’s ranch.

My 10 year old has been out each morning ..

Chores in pajamas ..

.. doing what she can to help.  Not necessarily anything that we need or want her to do, but that she wants to do.  And the fact she is out doing anything .. I’m happy with at this point.

She’s actually learned how to do quite a few things so far this week:  Make a fresh pot of coffee.  Go out in the field and get her own horse to ride.  Or goat to rope.  Oil a saddle.  Pull weeds.  Hang laundry on the line.  Take better care to watch after the Cowboy’s twins (not that they need it) and .. today, she added .. give encouragement to a mama cow giving birth.

Offering words of encouragement ..

She took her job so seriously … that when the time came after about 45 minutes of watching, waiting and Neighbor J pulling on the two feet we could see, she almost missed …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLI_AxJbNYY&context=C4eb3dfeADvjVQa1PpcFNgrE7DfEEyp6rtXAshDJjXHtVvAfksEEk=

A beautiful sight .. (if you don’t mind all the blood and other bodily fluids that come with a newborn calf/large animal.  Heck even a person.  It’s just messy.  But also, a miracle.)  Something I would recommend you be present at at least once in your lifetime, if at all possible.  Just remember to either stay back.  Or apparenty bring plastic wrap and duct tape for yourself (arms, especially) if you want to get up close and personal through the process.

Appreciate the call, Neighbor J.  We all loved it.  Plus, it was a nice break from a ‘hard days work’.  Especially for my daughter.

She was happy though, to get back to the ranch .. because there was still much to do.

At the top of the list .. concerned it was feeling neglected after all the attention and time spent with the horses this week, show the donkey some love.

 

South Dakota Wind …

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The mornings have all been fairly different here since we arrived early last Saturday .. sunny skies and warm, partly sunny and cool, cloudy and overcast ..

But the one thing that remains constant it seems here in South Dakota ..

The wind.

I had never thought much about how windy it is until this week, where for starters .. we have had a lot more time to hang out.  Usually we are passing through on our way further west.  Or here for all of about 36 hours, turning around and heading back home.

But each morning, when I look out the window, all I can tell for certain, is that it is windy.

And .. that .. if I leave my clothes on the line .. they may not be there when we I go to check on them again.

………..

It is relatively flat, this side of the state.  So there’s not much to stop the wind from gaining momentum and swirling around every corner, every tree, every building.  Watching the grass on days like today is mesmerizing.  The wind almost appears to make everything dance.  So, it’s beautiful on some respects.

It’s just, so windy.

Windy enough that I had no idea how sunburned I was getting the other day because everything still felt cool.  Until I came in out of the sun ..

And, the Cowboy’s ranch is located in only a Fair to Moderate part of the state where wind is concerned, according to http://www.windpoweringamerica.gov/maps_template.asp?stateab=sd.  I can’t imagine if we were in the Excellent, Outstanding or Superb areas of the state.

“Every day in South Dakota is nice .. as long as the wind isn’t blowing,” says the Cowboy.

That has me wondering how many nice days there are here .. but he assures me, most are .. even with the wind howling over the plains.

It also has me thinking .. if the wind one of South Dakota’s biggest crops, is it being harvested to its fullest potential?

Minnesota Public Radio did this piece a few years ago now .. http://tinyurl.com/633srn 

Apparently there are significantly more wind farms in South Dakota today than there were at the time this piece was done.  The Cowboy says one of the biggest wind farms in the state is actually not far north of the ranch.

All I know at the moment .. is that I need to keep my hat cinched tighter when we’re out riding.  That the resistence training on my runs is au natural.  And while it has quickly helped to dry many a load of laundry, saving us from running the dryer .. we need to run the wash again.  Because that white clump out in the middle of the neighbors field indeed is one of my favorite shirts that blew away.

Staying put …

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I was kind of sick to my stomach yesterday.. thinking about making a decision I knew was best to make for so many reasons.

But one that I just didn’t want to do.

We cold decide to stay put in South Dakota .. where we have settled in nicely these first few days of spring break.

Or .. we could head out, leaving the Cowboy’s like we had planned, for a few days in Montana.

……….

We go to Montana every year at least once if not twice. And that’s just the two of us. My 10 year old then goes one if not two more times with her father. I don’t ever feel I can speak on his behalf nor would I want to, but I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say, we all love it. The state. The state of mind. Being there moves me and I think all of us, like few other places.. something I never expected when I moved there so many years ago for my first job. It is where my ex and I met. I’m not sure a day has gone by that my ex doesn’t wish he had ever left. His entire family now lives there, without him. That’s a whole other story.

Regardless .. If we don’t go to visit family, we go to visit all the friends who are like family to us.

The annual roadtrip usually has us swinging a big loop to see friends in Big Sky country, The Bitterroot, Missoula, Ninemile, the Flathead Valley and back toward home .. it’s a lot of driving. And never enough time with any of them.

But this trip, I really wanted and quite honestly, felt I needed time with a woman who is like a second mom to me. The Hat Maker and her family. One stop. One stop I have been looking forward to for a very long time. We had scheduled three days there .. to fall in-between two very long, wonderful weekends at the Cowboy’s.

I didn’t want to back out… but my gut was telling me I should.

The Cowboy and I have had some much needed time together and conversations we just can’t seem to have in earnest otherwise .. since we have been here. All good things.

But until my daughter asked the other night.. “Mom, can’t we stay one more day here?” .. I hadn’t really considered simply staying put for an entire week.

Not only because I’d be changing loosely set plans .. (which I’m typically and all too often, good with)

Or missing out on an opportunity to spend time in a place and with people that feed my soul ..

But because it would mean I would actually stay put, in one place, with little to do other than rest .. regroup .. think .. and have absolute down time with people I love and adore and appreciate here as well. My daughter being one. The Cowboy another.

………..

Downtime is not something I give myself permission to have very often. And I hate to generalize but, I believe it’s actually something we, as a society have gotten so far away from. Many of us, anyway. The Cowboy has been good for me in that regard.

The Hat Maker agrees .. as she adores the Cowboy and what he’s meant for us. She told me on the phone as we were talking about the possible change of plans last night, that it was probably good for us to stay put for awhile. Stop running from here to there and everywhere inbetween because often it never gets us where we want to go anyway.

We woke this morning …

And instead of getting in the car for the twelve hour drive ..

We are enjoying staying put.. heading outside where there are two horses saddled, ready for my daughter and I to ride out in the South Dakota sun .. While we wait for the Cowboy to return home.

Setting fear aside ..

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“I can’t believe she doesn’t know how to ride a bike..”

That is the reaction we would get from just about everyone who happened to come across the little tidbit of information that my 10 year old didn’t know how to ride a bike.  Not only did she not know, but she absolutely refused to learn.

“That’s just crazy,” they would say.  “Why doesn’t she want to learn?”

It’s been this way for years now.

She will go 40 mph down a mountainside on skiis despite having rammed head on into a tree when she was probably 4 years old.  No fear to get back up.  She will ride on a scooter.  A skateboard.  She will get on any horse and enjoys not just a leisurely walk.  But an all out run.

Yet she won’t get on a bike.

I don’t know if it was the 4th of July neighborhood parade incident years ago that scarred her when she fell and the decorative red, white and blue pipecleaner on the handlebar went clear through her hand ..

Or if she .. for some reason .. has just truly not wanted to learn.

“C’mon…” I used to say.  “Everyone knows how to ride a bike.  It’s just something you do.  It will be fun!  We can go together.  You have to learn.”

“Not me,” she would reply.  “Not unless it’s the law.  Is it a law?” she used to ask.

I was getting ready to call the Governor’s office.  Who I knew perpiherally through work and who used to live in our modest little neighborhood. I was certain would help me out.

“It is a law, my law.. ” and would say, laughing.  “Would it help to have a call from the Governor?”

“No.  I’m NOT RIDING A BIKE.”

………..

The Cowboy and I were determined with some lovely downtime for us this week .. that she would learn.  And she’s been softening to the idea more and more .. especially since the handsome young boy she often hangs out with now and who lives next door to us rides his bike all the time.

“What do you want to do today,” we asked as she woke on Saturday.

“I want to ride,” she replied.

“Well, if you want to ride the horses later today, you’ve got to first try to ride a bike,” the Cowboy and I said, united.

“Ok.”

………

She didn’t want either of us to help, at least not at first.

The Cowboy tried.

She got off, came back to the porch and said, “I want to do this alone.”

“And two minutes.  I’m only going to try for two minutes.”

We left her alone.  For awhile.  Two minutes came and went and she was down at the end of the Cowboy’s gravel drive still trying.  I went to see if I could help.

We went down the road and back.  A couple times.  The dog in tow ..

“You can do this,” I said.  “You just need some momentum.  It’s hard to start from a dead stop.”

She actually listened.  Didn’t get mad.  Didn’t fuss.  She tried.  And after a few more attempts ..was up and pedaling.

For about 15 feet.

Next try, just a little bit more.  And a little bit more.  By this time, we were coming back up the drive and nearing the porch.

“Ok.”  I tried.  “Can we ride the horses now?”

………

The Cowboy asked if I could see the smile on her face.

I couldn’t.  But knowing that made my heart smile.

So did the fact that Sunday morning, when we came back in the house after returning from town, she wasn’t behind us.  The Cowboy looked out the window …

“She’s on the bike,” he said.

First of (hopefully not) many to come?

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It is a peaceful morning at the Cowboy’s ranch.

The sun is shining.  There is a slight breeze blowing.  No tv or music playing.

It is just quiet.

My daughter and I a few minutes ago, sat down to the coffee, bacon and waffles the Cowboy made for us before leaving for an appointment.

We had slept in, rolling in early this morning after a much later departure than I had hoped for last night.

………….

This is the start to our spring break this year ..

Well, I wish this were the start.  I like this start better.  We are instead going this morning, with .. the ‘do-over’ I wrote about a few posts ago.

…………

“Mom, can I have a hug,” my daughter asks as we were still lying in bed this morning.

She’s lying on her side, looking at me with one eye.  The other eye is buried in her pillow.  We are mirroring each other in that respect.

I give her a hug.  “I love you, honey..” I say.

The hug rounds out one of the first big fights we have ever had.

Well, actually, that she had with me last night as we were trying to get the car packed and actually get out of town.  I had a long time on the drive here last night to think about what set it all off.  And, we’ve talked about it since.  But ..

This was truly the first, and quite honestly, impressive (not in a good way) rant I’ve seen from her.

Normally we might have some pouting.  Some name calling.  Some assertiveness and being bossy.  She hasn’t been terrible about that.  She’s usually a pretty great kid and under control.  But this was a no good knock down drag out throw every nasty name in the book and do what I can to hurt mom kind of fight.  That was before the threats to throw yogurt all over the car (I almost doubled over laughing about the thought of that one as she threatened while I put gas in the car), dump my coffee (gasp! she knows my weak spot) and pinch me as hard as she could.

The “I don’t love you anymore I just want my dad the rest of my life and I wish you were never born,” kind of fight.

And it all started with me simply asking her to clean the cats litter boxes before we left.

“I tried,” she fussed at me, as I went to pour in more fresh litter and discovered there was still a lot to be cleaned.

I went to look for the scooper.

It was hiding in a corner, freshly snapped in two.

“Child (insert name)?” I ask .. “How did the scoop get broken?  Did that just happen?”

“No.  And .. It just broke,” she replied.

“It didn’t ‘just break‘ honey, what happened?  We have others coming to care for the cats and now the scoop is broke?” I say, increasingly frustrated at this point.  Frustrated my child (my fault at this point) isn’t better at handling a few simple chores.  And that we’re not already on the road.

“Why are you being so mean to me,” she asks.

I try and take stock of how I’m talking to her .. thinking, uh oh, did I push her too far?  Am I that frustrated trying to get out the door I’m taking it out on her?  Or, is it that I’m holding her accountable for one of two relatively simple tasks she’d rather not do, that’s has her so upset.  But it’s too late.  She’s in a full fledged rage, screaming bloody murder as she scoops the last of the clumps out of the litter box with half a scoop saying she doesn’t want to go with me now, and just wants her dad.  I keep doing what I’m doing, trying to stay focused and let her have this moment, hoping meanwhile that the neighbors aren’t getting concerned something else more traumatic is going on.  Next thing I know she’s unpacking all of her things from the car.  And on the phone.  To dad.

Now.. thank goodness he and I are in a place where .. even in divorce .. this no longer even remotely pits the two of us against each other.  If anything, her growing up and trying to play either of us has us talking and getting along better than we perhaps ever have.  And he knows she has called me at the slightest point of upset on his end.  It’s good to know we’ve got each others backs here.

(If I have learned anything important to pass along through my own divorce, it’s that .. if there is even a chance as a mom or dad you can present a united front .. despite separate homes, it makes a huge difference.  Not always in the moment, but in the big picture.  That’s for just about anything that may come up.)

But it was brutal.  For quite some time.  I let her keep going with it and ignored her for the most part, wondering how long she might keep it up.  And I was generally impressed with the steady stream of insanity that flowed from her healthy vocal chords.  I didn’t realize she had that in her to be honest.  At a few times I had to hold back a smile.  Which upset her even more.

It only ended as we were finally on the road about 20 minutes from home and she was furious I hadn’t started to cry.  My 10-year-old took off her seatbelt and threatened to open the door and jump out because it would be better than staying in the car with me.  And then she went for the gear shift and power button.  (Yes, my car has a power button.)

It was time to put this to an end.

She begged me to stop so that she could go to the bathroom and I told her that was perfect because she had gone on long enough and I was concerned now about both our safety.  And lucky for us, I knew that State Patrol headquarters was right next to the string of restaurants and gas stations we were heading for.

“If you can’t get this under control for yourself,” I said .. “perhaps we need to go and talk with the police.  Because I’m worried you’re going to hurt either yourself or both of us and  can’t let you do that.”

Snap.  She’s out of it.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

We pull up to Culver’s and get out.

“I’m so sorry, mommy…..” she says as she walks around the front of the car toward me offering her arms for a hug.

“I think it’s puberty.  I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m doing this.  Can I have some ice cream?”

………….

I pray this is not a regular occasion.

But I also know, I gave my own parents a few doozies when I was her age.  Probably not to the extent I got last night, because I knew there would be a hand on my face at the first utter of some of the words she chose last night or a hand mark on my behind.  But I’m sure my words at that time, cut close.

I’m not proud of that.

In fact, and my daughter and I have talked about this already this morning.  If I have any regrets from a life otherwise well lived .. it is that I ever said some of the things I did to my parents.  That I know had to have stung .. just a bit.  In particular, to my own mother.

She used to say .. “I can hardly wait until you have your own kids…” with a smile on her face.

I am learning, day by day .. what she meant..

…………

It is still quiet here at the ranch this now Saturday afteroon.

The dishes are cleared and put away after a late brunch..

And I’ve had a few wonderful moments to sit and write again after a chaotic week…

I can hear the truck coming up the drive ..

The Cowboy is has returned.

And we’re going outside to learn how to ride a bike ..

Which, she also doesn’t want do.

Let’s see how this one goes..

NPR and the rodeo …

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It’s late .. I’m still up.  And I know once my feet hit the floor in the morning, I will be on the run.  So.. I’m going to just knock this out tonight.  Today.  This morning.  Whatever you want to call it.  It’s 2:40 a.m. and while I was wiped out around 10 p.m., I missed my window.

But because my brain may not be functioning at ‘full-well-rested’ mode, I admit I’m going to slack this Monday.

Not just because I want to or need to .. but because after all this talk about the rodeo, I thought it interesting that as I was listening one morning last week to NPR, a promo came on for a piece All Things Considered was doing.

(NPR as in National Public Radio .. not to be confused, which could be easy at first glance, with NFR.)

It caught my attention.

And because I haven’t had a chance to hear it yet, I thought I’d search for it and at the same time, share my find …

………….

My parents, from what I recall, didn’t listen to much NPR at all as we were growing up.  I’m not sure my dad does now.  Many of my friends don’t .. while others are avid followers of anything and everything NPR.  They live, breathe and devour all of the programming they possibly can.

And, there’s a lot to digest, regardless of how you feel about the venue.  I hear people complain all the time how ‘too far to the left’ NPR’s programs are.  But it makes me smile that the person who really introduced me to it and loved to listen, is one of the most staunch republicans I know.

Anyway ….

From All Things Considered.

The Rodeo Circuit: Bucking Bulls And Broken Bones 

The Rodeo:  I thought it might be interesting to pass along…

…  Pass along for the likes of perhaps, my daughter, who is excited to someday do something besides ride/walk her horse around in circles inside of a barn.  For the person who knows nothing about the rodeo and is just curious to learn .. or for those of you who just appreciate a good story about anything.

If that doesn’t interest you .. try this.

The “Goat Rodeo.”

http://tinyurl.com/7wc9y85

Perhaps classical music is more your style than ‘bucking bulls.’

Either one or both, I believe .. work for me.   But perhaps the latter will best help me get to sleep.

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

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

He replied, “No, I didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

……………..

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

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

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

………………

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

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

One can only guess – sometimes.

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

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

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

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

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

I’m off for a run.

Back in the saddle ..

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Since I’ve known the Cowboy .. he’s taught roping.

He’s practiced roping with friends, on occasion.

But I have yet to see him rope.. or heel is what he usually does, in an actual rodeo.

Watching afternoon practice ..

Despite the fact he essentially dropped out of his career as a team roper to get through his divorce a year ago, to be home more and spend as much time as possible with his kids..

He still made the Minnesota Rodeo Association Finals  http://www.mnrodeo.org/ this weekend in Fergus Falls, MN.

Unfortunately…

He didn’t get notice that he qualified, until I had something on the books already for the weekend.

Very bummed about that.

Now … this brings up a dilemma each person/couple/family has to face and make decisions about on their own.  But after years of essentially not worrying all that much about someone else having something on their calendar besides my daughter, that might conflict with my own insane number of commitments .. I wasn’t sure what to do.

I wanted to go..

But at the very least, four other people were relying on me to be not at a rodeo in the middle of nowhere, Minnesota.

Completely torn, I was asked a couple of months ago to make a decision so that everyone knew where I stood and could adjust accordingly.  The Cowboy and I had a long talk .. and for a number of reasons, we decided it was best I kept my current commitment.

“I’ll be roping plenty of times from here on out for you to come watch,” said the Cowboy.

I’m looking forward to it.

And while I’m enjoying the much needed down time alone this weekend in-between commitments..

The kids are with him .. so are his folks.

Selfishly, I am wishing I/we were with them too.

…………….

It is so easy to get caught up in the chaos of a good life .. the opportunities to go and see and do and be a part of .. and there is never a shortage, especially when you live near so many good friends and family.

This weekend however..

Friday night dance after the rodeo ..

…has been a beautiful reminder of how nice it might be..  to not have a calendar completely booked out for the rest of the year.  Or at least time, set completely aside for whatever may come along.  Is it possible?  I don’t know..

But I may just give it a try.