this house ain't big enough fer the two of us

The cowboy loves to be spontaneously hospitable. It is not unheard of for him to ask me if it's okay for him to invite people over for dinner . . . only he will ask me at 5:45 when I am just walking in the door from work and the house is a wreck and there is no food in the fridge. Seriously. When I respond with, "No. No you may not." and explain why, he comes up with things like, "Then let's just build a bonfire outside and roast hot dogs." Of course, we don't have hot dogs in the fridge either, 'cause, well, yuck.

Gotta love his simplicity though.

He recently invited a complete stranger to spend the night with us. Okay, she was a complete stranger to Kevin and me. My husband had met her once in Fort Worth at the "Saddle Boy" competition. She is an insurance claims adjustor and had been working about five hours east of us, and her home is about five hours west of us. Anyway, she called to see if she could stop by on her way home and see the cowboy's new "Extreme Mustang Makeover" horses. (Yeah, that's plural. Remember, he decided to go with two horses this round, you know, because of all his extra free time.) So . . . instead of just saying, 'Yes, that would be lovely,' he says, "Yes, but why don't you come early and stay the night at the Reynolds' Bed & Breakfast?"

She thanked him politely but said she would be staying the night elsewhere and would see us on Wednesday morning. A couple of days later she called for directions and he asked her again to spend the night with us. "Really," she said, "I appreciate the offer, but I've already got a place to stay."

This is when he decides to inform me he has invited a complete stranger to stay with us. On a night he will be at work. On a night I already have other plans. But since she has declined the offer twice, I don't give it much thought. (Not that I mind her spending the night. Really, I don't. It was just that he made the offer twice before conferring with me.)

So, Tuesday comes along and the cowboy calls just before leaving for work at 5 p.m. "Are you coming home?" he asked. "Not planning to . . . why?" I responded. "Just wondering. I'm going to leave a key for Karen just in case she changes her mind and decides to show up."

Knowing that this lady had no intention of spending the night with us, and knowing that Sara and I were planning some girl time, Kevin decides he want to go home. So I took him home around 5:30 for a quiet night of frozen pizza, Facebook and X-box.

About 9 o'clock he is in the den and hears the front door open. Thinking this strange, as I always come in through the garage, he goes to the safe, gets out a gun and hollers, "Mom?" (You know, 'cause my kids always greet me at the door with a loaded shotgun.) To which a complete stranger's voice answers, "No? This is Karen?"

Sufficiently freaked them both out, as neither was expecting the other.

By the time I got home she was holed up in Kacey's room sound asleep. Kevin and I had a good laugh about it. Apparently, once he regained his bearings, he became quite the host and offered her food then showed her where all the essentials were. I asked him all about her, but since the Y-chromosome makes men oblivious to details, the best he could tell me was that she walked upright on two legs and she was not bald. So I try to get specific: Is she tall? Short? Young? "Oh, no, she's not young. Definitely older than you, mom." Okay, so we have a bit of information.

The next morning I met her and was pleasantly greeted by a VERY sweet, gracious and MUCH younger woman. Kevin gets big brownie points.

We had a great visit. She helped the cowboy feed the horses, they went for a ride, I fixed a big breakfast, we had the "get to know each other" talk, then she was on her way back home. She called the next day and left a message:

"Hey guys! This is Karen. Thanks so much for letting me play with the horses. Stephanie, thanks so much for your hospitality and the best breakfast I have had in weeks. Oh, and Kevin . . . BOO!"

I liked her. She can come back and stay anytime. :o)

good sex

Got your attention, huh?

One New Table
I am getting new office furniture! Picked up my table from Pier 1 yesterday and assembled it today . . . it is BIGGER than I envisioned, but I LOVE it, so I will make it work even if I have to rearrange and give up my coveted corner desk spot.

Two New Horses
The cowboy is getting two, yes TWO, more mustangs tomorrow, this time for the Extreme Mustang Makeover in Ocala, Florida in April. This will be the first of two EMM competitions this year. Here's to biting off more than you can chew!

Three-Letter Word
There was a catalog on my desk today. The book on the catalog cover was entitled, "Good Sex". I told Kevin I was going to blog about "having good sex on my desk". He, for some strange reason, was not in favor of the idea . . .

Four-Headed Monster
So we had the 16th Birthday sleepover last Friday night, which consisted of 10 straight hours of video games, junk food, and caffeine, only to be briefly interrupted by something the boys called "FreezeOut". At the near-tropical temperature of 7 degrees, the boys stripped down to their boxers and ran outside. WHY? Because they could. Or because they are idiots. Or both. John Mark's dad said I should have locked them out and hosed them down . . . (See Kevin, I'm not the WORST parent!)

award-winning cockroaches and beached manatees

This is my bedroom.
I like my bedroom.
It's dark and cool.
It's comfortable.
The mattress is firm.
The pillows are fluffly.
Getting into bed is a wonderful end
to most days -
not an olympic event.


This past weekend, however, while we were in Fort Worth for the cowboy's "Sadde Boy" competition, we bunked in the horse trailer. (No, not WITH the horse! The back 3/4 is the horse part, the front 1/4 is "living quarters") I use the term "living quarters" very VERY loosely. It was more like sleeping in an aluminum shoebox on wheels. The floor section, which is shaped like the state of Nevada, only had enough room for Kevin's military-style cot, the step stool, and one standing human. As you can see from the picture below, the interior has been gutted, so the walls are bare except for the lovely remnants of brown wood glue. Everytime we turned the light on it threw a breaker. Our "camping spot" was on the gravel parking lot wedged between dozens of $100,000 motor homes - we looked like the embarrassing Arkansas cousins.

One aspect of the weekend I particularly enjoyed was the 2 block hike to the bathroom which was located upstairs inside the dormitory of the Swine Building of the Will Rogers Equestrian Center across the street from the National Cowgirl Museum. Yee Haw. When I first stepped into the seemingly abandoned and unlit concrete shower, I was startled by one of the hogs from the prior weekend's judging that had been left behind - no wait, that was just a prize-winning cockroach. He and I did NOT get along. It was a quick shower.

The most entertaining part of the weekend, for those lucky enough to witness it (Kevin), was my trying to get into the sleeping bunk of the trailer. Even with the step-stool, I was only waist-high to the metal platform. After numerous and wildly unsuccessful attempts to fling my leg up onto the platform, I finally had Kevin stand on his cot, and lift the air mattress up to the ceiling. This allowed me to bend over at a 90-degree angle and roll my entire body onto the platform under the air mattress, much like an injured manatee rolling himself onto the beach. I then rolled the opposite direction until I was against the wall so Kevin could drop the mattress. At this point I got onto my hands and knees and crawled onto the mattress. Lying down, there was a good 7 inches between my face and the ceiling. Now to get undressed. What???? I couldn't lift my legs - no room. Tried lying in a fetal position and wiggling. No luck with that either. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to manage the removal of my clothing. Why didn't I get my pj's on BEFORE I clamored up there? I DON'T KNOW. But I sure as heck wasn't getting back down and then up again! So I called down to Kevin,

"Kevin, help me pull my pants off."
"Yeah, right, mom."
"Please, Kevin, I can't do it."
"Like that's gonna happen. I don't think so."
"But Kevin, I need help!"
"Suck it up and sleep in your clothes, mom!"
"Kevin, please please." (Imagine a whiny, cartoony voice at this point.)
Kevin begins to giggle hysterically at the thought of my not having enough room to perform this function for myself, and at the thought that I would even dare ask his help with undressing. Then, of course, there was the mental image of him actually helping me with this, which, I have to confess, was really really funny to both of us.
"Keeeeevvvvviiiinnnn, pleeeeeaaaaassssseeee!!!!!"
More giggling. This time from both of us.
This went on for about 20 minutes until the giggling turned into full-out laughter.

After we fell into a good sleep, we were awakened by an 8.3 earthquake. No, wait, that was just the cowboy backing his truck INTO the trailer. Luckily, the only thing he broke was his passenger side mirror.

Extreme Mustang Makeover 2008 - reservations are already secured at the Hyatt Regency downtown Fort Wort.