saddles, cell phones and the futility of ironing

Yesterday the cowboy totalled his truck and horse-trailer in northern Florida. He is okay, except that he has a mini-van rental to bring home saddles, luggage and such in. He called to complain that "cowboys" don't drive mini-vans. He is really going to miss his pretty black pickup. Of course we just got it paid off last month . . . isn't that just the way it goes!?

Several people asked if he was going to continue on to Ocala to compete this weekend. My only response to that is, "Do you KNOW my husband????" Of course he is going on to compete. He is staying in a motel instead of the trailer, and he is having to eat out every meal since all of his groceries, plus the fridge and microwave were destroyed in the rollover. So . . . this is going to turn out to be a much more expensive trip than he planned.

I bought the very un-techy cowboy a Go Phone before he left so he would have a way to keep me updated about the competition. I don't want to say he complained about my purchasing the phone, but he made it known that it was NOT his idea to get the cell phone. He called me SEVEN times yesterday. Not to mention all the calls he made to the insurance company, the car rental agency, the Mustang Makeover coordinators, etc. I think, in retrospect, he might actually appreciate the phone. :o)

Okay, so here's the real kicker in this whole process. Before he left I washed and IRONED his competition shirts. Yes, I said IRONED. There are two of them, and they are white with embroidered insignia all over them. Oh, and did I mention they are COTTON? And that I IRONED them? You have to understand, I don't iron. Ever. That's why God created Downy Wrinkle Release Spray and the "fluff" setting on the dryer. When I bought an iron for Kacey before she went to college, she had to ask me what it was. Oh, the sarcasm. So, anyway . . . those beautiful, crisp, white, wrinkle-free cotton shirts ended up crumpled under shards of broken glass and busted cans of food, thus reinforcing the futility of ironing in the first place.

So . . . it's competition time. "Break a leg"! No, let me rephrase that. "Knock 'em dead!" No, you almost did that too . . . well, anyway, good luck with the horse show. Though I am sure there are infinitely better things to do in Ocala.

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.