Monday, May 31, 2010
In my previous life…
sometimes when flying over less populated spaces across the U.S., I would peer down at places like Laramie and wonder, “What is that town?” “Who lives there?” “How far is it, from ‘civilization?” “What are the people (and their lives) like?” and finally, “Do they want to be there?”
I think I may have mentioned—once or twice—that with our teeny-tiny airport we don’t see many planes around Laramie, except for an occasional glimpse of one of the three daily departures or arrivals of a Great Lakes airline plane to and from the Denver airport.
Occasionally, we’ll also get a glimpse of that miniscule speck way up in the sky, that is sure to be a jet crisscrossing the great expanse of the United States, or what’s left in it’s wake—the white fluffy plumes of jet smoke.
Now, as I look skyward and see those very same planes way—way—way up in distance, carrying people like me to destinations unknown, I wonder, “Who are they and where they going?” and finally, “Do they want to be where they are going ?”
And if any of them are peering down at me, let it be known that, “Yes. I do, in fact, want to be here.”
At least—for the time being that is.
I think I may have mentioned—once or twice—that with our teeny-tiny airport we don’t see many planes around Laramie, except for an occasional glimpse of one of the three daily departures or arrivals of a Great Lakes airline plane to and from the Denver airport.
Occasionally, we’ll also get a glimpse of that miniscule speck way up in the sky, that is sure to be a jet crisscrossing the great expanse of the United States, or what’s left in it’s wake—the white fluffy plumes of jet smoke.
 |
| The only clip art I could find |
Now, as I look skyward and see those very same planes way—way—way up in distance, carrying people like me to destinations unknown, I wonder, “Who are they and where they going?” and finally, “Do they want to be where they are going ?”
And if any of them are peering down at me, let it be known that, “Yes. I do, in fact, want to be here.”
At least—for the time being that is.
I have just one word for you—just one word…
Plastics...
I’ve read a number of western-based fiction for my two book groups.
I’m currently reading Dancing at the Rascal Fair, by Ivan Doig, about Scottish immigrants who settled and homestead in Montana in the late 1890s.
Last Fall I read The Work of Wolves, a beautifully written and hauntingly melancholic story about several modern-day youth coming of age in and around a South Dakota reservation, by Kent Meyers.
Pieces of the story have stayed with me, including these passages about plastic bags.
The wind here, however, keeps the bags alive, floating and billowing like “prairie jellyfish” or “chattering impaled and visible ghosts,” waving as we pass by.
I first noticed them as the wind flattens them along the fence, which is directly across the street and encircles the Jr. High.
Then I noticed them dangling along other fences and jagged edges and sometimes, dancing along the street, particularly on windy days.
I also think of the Work of Wolves, and that quote from The Graduate, when I see them flying around.
Mr. McGuire had absolutely no clue when he said “Plastics” to Benjamin Braddock in 1967…
I’ve read a number of western-based fiction for my two book groups.
I’m currently reading Dancing at the Rascal Fair, by Ivan Doig, about Scottish immigrants who settled and homestead in Montana in the late 1890s.
Last Fall I read The Work of Wolves, a beautifully written and hauntingly melancholic story about several modern-day youth coming of age in and around a South Dakota reservation, by Kent Meyers.
Pieces of the story have stayed with me, including these passages about plastic bags.
"A great blob of white came rolling out of the sky and flattened against the windshield with a sucking sound. Earl jumped and then saw it was only a plastic grocery bag. It reinflated immediately and sailed away, a prairie jellyfish…Caught in the stunted and dying trees in the cemetery and on the barbed wire fence that encircled it and on the stiff stalks of yucca and sage that grew on the hillsides above it, more plastic bags flapped, ballooning away from the wind. A few years earlier, Donaldson’s Foods had switched from paper to plastic. It had taken those years for the bags to accumulate, but now they occupied all jagged and jutting edges in town, leaving nothing for new bags to catch on. Through the closed windows of the car, Earl heard the bags’ chattering. Impaled and visible ghosts. From the corner of his eye, he saw them waving in the cemetery, but he refused to look there…On top pf a pile of rusted machinery in the empty lot where someone had once tried to start a manufacturing business, a single plastic bag fluttered. Earl saluted it—a new edge discovered—and drove on by."I know, for-a-fact, that just as many plastic bags litter North Arlington as do here in Laramie but they're usually ‘drowned’ and lying dormant or hidden in bushes or the like, by the rain and humidity.
The wind here, however, keeps the bags alive, floating and billowing like “prairie jellyfish” or “chattering impaled and visible ghosts,” waving as we pass by.
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| Plastic---caught along Happy Jack Road between Laramie & Cheyenne |
I first noticed them as the wind flattens them along the fence, which is directly across the street and encircles the Jr. High.
Then I noticed them dangling along other fences and jagged edges and sometimes, dancing along the street, particularly on windy days.
I also think of the Work of Wolves, and that quote from The Graduate, when I see them flying around.
Mr. McGuire had absolutely no clue when he said “Plastics” to Benjamin Braddock in 1967…
Friday, May 28, 2010
A different kind of study mate
I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the Student Union Bookstore this past week.
This morning, after the ballet, I stopped in and was confronted with this display…
This morning, after the ballet, I stopped in and was confronted with this display…
Wish that they had had these offerings when I was a student.
Wait!
I AM a student!
Hmm—I feel a need for another trip to the bookstore coming on…
Peter and the Wolf
The Laramie Ballet Company 7220—the number represents Laramie’s altitude—performed at the UWYO Arts & Science building this morning.
The production, Peter and the Wolf, was a special showing for all of Laramie’s elementary school students.
I went because a friend’s daughter—the friend who moved here from VA last August with her kids and whose daughter goes to school with the teenager—is a dancer with the company, which is mostly adult and college-aged dancers and performers.
What fun!
And what a great opportunity for my friend’s daughter, who wouldn’t have these same dancing and performance opportunities in a larger city.
Just another one of the benefits, of small town living!
The production, Peter and the Wolf, was a special showing for all of Laramie’s elementary school students.
I went because a friend’s daughter—the friend who moved here from VA last August with her kids and whose daughter goes to school with the teenager—is a dancer with the company, which is mostly adult and college-aged dancers and performers.
What fun!
And what a great opportunity for my friend’s daughter, who wouldn’t have these same dancing and performance opportunities in a larger city.
Just another one of the benefits, of small town living!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
They don’t know—hot!
I had to laugh, as I walked through the union this afternoon and overheard variations on these comments—“It’s sooo hot today!" "Can you believe the temperature?” "I’m roasting—it’s boiling today!”
It was 78 degrees—a nice moderate temperature by most standards.
Granted, the hot Wyoming sun raises the heat index anywhere between 5 to 15 degrees.
Then again, there is the never-ceasing Wyoming wind, which reverses that heat index, so that it actually feels like—75 degrees.
Factor in zero humidity, and I find it all so amusing.
I’ll take a “little breeze” over humidity any day of the week.
They really don’t know "hot" in these parts.
On another topic: I'm bummed.
Just finished watching the Suns lose to the Lakers in OT.
The Legal Dude thought it was over in the 3rd quarter, when the Suns were down by 18 points.
Geez—no faith, that dude.
Now we have to wait till game 6 on Saturday, to see how it all plays out.
Tomorrow it’s back to the Celtics and the Magic
Go Magic!
It was 78 degrees—a nice moderate temperature by most standards.
Granted, the hot Wyoming sun raises the heat index anywhere between 5 to 15 degrees.
Then again, there is the never-ceasing Wyoming wind, which reverses that heat index, so that it actually feels like—75 degrees.
Factor in zero humidity, and I find it all so amusing.
I’ll take a “little breeze” over humidity any day of the week.
They really don’t know "hot" in these parts.
On another topic: I'm bummed.
Just finished watching the Suns lose to the Lakers in OT.
The Legal Dude thought it was over in the 3rd quarter, when the Suns were down by 18 points.
Geez—no faith, that dude.
Now we have to wait till game 6 on Saturday, to see how it all plays out.
Tomorrow it’s back to the Celtics and the Magic
Go Magic!
♫♪ It’s a beautiful morning ♫♪
It is suppose to be near 80ยบ today—awesome!
The wind is slight, by Laramie standards.
The sun is shinning, although through cloud cover.
The grass has been green for sometime, but today, most of the trees are covered with what looks like green felt.
Oh happy day!
Yep. It is truly a beautiful morn...
The wind is slight, by Laramie standards.
The sun is shinning, although through cloud cover.
The grass has been green for sometime, but today, most of the trees are covered with what looks like green felt.
Oh happy day!
Yep. It is truly a beautiful morn...
Spun Wool...
The wind is still blowing, but as of yet, no storm has materialized.
With this moon, though—
I’m not sure if it will.
While the sun was still bright and shinning, I went to the Cow Girl Yarn shop downtown to the spinning class.
I learned a few things about how yarn becomes yarn.
I learned that the spinning wheel
is a relatively new invention and that wool was spun by hand, on these…
which I wanted to give a try before moving on to the more modern invention.
So I started out with this…
from a wholly sheep friend and tried to be coordinated enough to handle the pulling, the twirling and the spinning—all without having it pull apart.
It took me almost two hours, but I finally ended up with this…
The instructor wanted me to give the spinning wheel a try, but I think I'll stick with the hand spinner—or whatever it’s called—for awhile.
Makes me feel more like a Frontier Woman...
With this moon, though—
I’m not sure if it will.
While the sun was still bright and shinning, I went to the Cow Girl Yarn shop downtown to the spinning class.
I learned a few things about how yarn becomes yarn.
I learned that the spinning wheel
is a relatively new invention and that wool was spun by hand, on these…
 |
| Although these cost about $50 each--yowza! |
which I wanted to give a try before moving on to the more modern invention.
So I started out with this…
 |
| Rovng--or animal fur, which has been washed and carded |
from a wholly sheep friend and tried to be coordinated enough to handle the pulling, the twirling and the spinning—all without having it pull apart.
 |
| This is not me, but the instructor |
It took me almost two hours, but I finally ended up with this…
 |
| Yarn! From a sheep |
The instructor wanted me to give the spinning wheel a try, but I think I'll stick with the hand spinner—or whatever it’s called—for awhile.
Makes me feel more like a Frontier Woman...
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Stormy Weather...
Like much of the rest of the country, Laramie is (once again) getting ready to experience severe weather.
In addition to the—almost daily—recurring strong winds, we're currently under a Tornado Watch until 9 pm this evening.
I’ve been told Tornados are rare in Laramie and that the rare one that passed through two-to-three years ago brought damaging winds that required roof replacement on many of the homes, including the one I’m sitting in.
TWC has been flashing photos of 8 to 10 inches of ice pellets, or in other words, hail, just NE of Denver.
Yep—A blanket of 8 to 10 inches of hail covering the ground, like snow.
That storm is heading NE, but still encompasses our locale, and as I sit here typing, I hear the battle of the Titans—thunderous and ominous—in the distance.
Then there is the wind, which has been gusting all day, and may reach hurricane gusts of up to 75 MPR—again.
I had hopes of attending a spinning class—the wool kind—at the local yarn shop this evening.
In the garage, my car is safe from the softball size hail they just experienced around Denver, and which is purportedly making it’s way here.
I’d rather my car not be pockmarked, or suffer another broken windshield.
I’m beginning to wonder—perhaps winter is the mild season in Wyoming!
Stay safe, dry and cozy—wherever you may be.
In addition to the—almost daily—recurring strong winds, we're currently under a Tornado Watch until 9 pm this evening.
 |
| Entering Laramie from I-287 and points SE, i.e., CO |
TWC has been flashing photos of 8 to 10 inches of ice pellets, or in other words, hail, just NE of Denver.
Yep—A blanket of 8 to 10 inches of hail covering the ground, like snow.
That storm is heading NE, but still encompasses our locale, and as I sit here typing, I hear the battle of the Titans—thunderous and ominous—in the distance.
Then there is the wind, which has been gusting all day, and may reach hurricane gusts of up to 75 MPR—again.
I had hopes of attending a spinning class—the wool kind—at the local yarn shop this evening.
In the garage, my car is safe from the softball size hail they just experienced around Denver, and which is purportedly making it’s way here.
I’d rather my car not be pockmarked, or suffer another broken windshield.
I’m beginning to wonder—perhaps winter is the mild season in Wyoming!
Stay safe, dry and cozy—wherever you may be.
Has Spring Sprung?
Today was absoloutely—Gorgeous!
What a beautiful day with no humidity, with temperatures in the high 50’s but at least 10 to 15 degrees warmer with the sun.
Is Spring finally here?!
Who knows—I think I”ve mentioned that the locals say, “It snows here every month, except August.”
Now I know why people love it here in the summer—it’s gorgeous!
Now, if the trees would only start to bloom—
What a beautiful day with no humidity, with temperatures in the high 50’s but at least 10 to 15 degrees warmer with the sun.
Is Spring finally here?!
Who knows—I think I”ve mentioned that the locals say, “It snows here every month, except August.”
Now I know why people love it here in the summer—it’s gorgeous!
Now, if the trees would only start to bloom—
For my dear friend in Paris…
We’ve had wind—and I mean WIND—these past few days.
In fact, at times, gusts of Hurricane force.
The house has groaned and moaned as gale force winds have whipped around the house, laying the grass flat. (Wish that I could capture THAT with my little Nikon.)
Sunday afternoon—after a sunny but windy morning—the sky turned dark and ominous, with those heavy, low hanging clouds that look ready to burst forth with flood waters at any moment.
In fact, the Legal Dude was so taken with the clouds that he called me to “come look.”
Poor dude, stuck inside all these days, hadn’t a clue that I’d see and tried to take photos of these very same clouds.
Monday morning, the westward sky was dark and foreboding, as if a mean, mean storm was brewing.
Heading out at 10:30 Monday morning, I had hopes of finishing all errands before the rain—and possibly hail—started to fall.
Alas, I didn’t make it home, under the safety of the garage, before the heaven sent forth it’s wrath—and wrath it was!
I’ve never been in a car with such hail—although mostly smallish pellets—and at times I feared the ice would break my windshield or sun-roof, or at the very least leave telltale dents.
Fortunately, my fear was for naught, this time.
What came next, dear walking companion, was snow.
Yes. You read correctly, snow!
Not just snow, but a blowing little blizzard of a mix, with reduced visibility.
So while you and your Legal Dude are enjoying the sunshine in beautiful Parรญs, think of us dear friends, as we wait—and wait—and wait...
In less than four weeks it will be summer, yet we're still waiting for Spring...
In fact, at times, gusts of Hurricane force.
The house has groaned and moaned as gale force winds have whipped around the house, laying the grass flat. (Wish that I could capture THAT with my little Nikon.)
Sunday afternoon—after a sunny but windy morning—the sky turned dark and ominous, with those heavy, low hanging clouds that look ready to burst forth with flood waters at any moment.
In fact, the Legal Dude was so taken with the clouds that he called me to “come look.”
Poor dude, stuck inside all these days, hadn’t a clue that I’d see and tried to take photos of these very same clouds.
 |
| Remember these clouds on the way back from Tie Siding? |
Monday morning, the westward sky was dark and foreboding, as if a mean, mean storm was brewing.
Heading out at 10:30 Monday morning, I had hopes of finishing all errands before the rain—and possibly hail—started to fall.
Alas, I didn’t make it home, under the safety of the garage, before the heaven sent forth it’s wrath—and wrath it was!
 |
| It started to hail as I walked out of Safeway |
I’ve never been in a car with such hail—although mostly smallish pellets—and at times I feared the ice would break my windshield or sun-roof, or at the very least leave telltale dents.
 |
| No dents, just lots of ice |
Fortunately, my fear was for naught, this time.
What came next, dear walking companion, was snow.
Yes. You read correctly, snow!
Not just snow, but a blowing little blizzard of a mix, with reduced visibility.
 |
| Ice pellets cover the Jr. High track |
 |
| I hope my neighbors tulips survive |
So while you and your Legal Dude are enjoying the sunshine in beautiful Parรญs, think of us dear friends, as we wait—and wait—and wait...
 |
| Windblown snow covers the mailboxes |
 |
| No dear friends, those are NOT white blossoms |
 |
| Gorgeous...no? |
In less than four weeks it will be summer, yet we're still waiting for Spring...
Friday, May 14, 2010
Saying—So long…
Alas, today is the last day I have my walking companion by my side, urging me onward and forward through the snow, the wind, the cold and even the precipitation.
We were limited in time this morning, as my companion had an appointment in Ft Collins later this afternoon.
We trekked over to Coal Creek Coffee, a 25-minute hike from my house, where we then sat outside and lunched on a wonderful bowl of cheddar tomato soup.
With the sun shinning, the temperature hovering around 40 and virtually no wind, we were able to soak up the rays without being cold.
Being outside on days like today is pure pleasure, although being outside here on any day is a real joy, because of the magnificent sky and vistas.
However, I have been hearing quite a bit, as of late, about the Wyoming mosquitoes, which apparently rear their ugly heads during the month of June.
While it appears that their presence is short lived, I hear they are aggressive—much more so than their Mid-Atlantic cousins.
There is always something to look forward to—or not…
We were limited in time this morning, as my companion had an appointment in Ft Collins later this afternoon.
We trekked over to Coal Creek Coffee, a 25-minute hike from my house, where we then sat outside and lunched on a wonderful bowl of cheddar tomato soup.
With the sun shinning, the temperature hovering around 40 and virtually no wind, we were able to soak up the rays without being cold.
Being outside on days like today is pure pleasure, although being outside here on any day is a real joy, because of the magnificent sky and vistas.
However, I have been hearing quite a bit, as of late, about the Wyoming mosquitoes, which apparently rear their ugly heads during the month of June.
While it appears that their presence is short lived, I hear they are aggressive—much more so than their Mid-Atlantic cousins.
There is always something to look forward to—or not…
The snowstorm that wasn’t...
A winter storm watch was in effect all day Tuesday through Wednesday evening.
[Frankly, I feel lucky that we had what we had, rather than what those poor folks who got hit by tornadoes had to endure this past week.]
TWC had predicted 8-10 inches for Tuesday night, and another 3-5 on Wednesday.
When I awoke Wednesday morning, I was expecting a pile of snow needing to be shoveled.
Thankfully, that wasn't necessary.
While we did have “weather” Tuesday evening and the roads to Denver were closed until 10 a.m. Wednesday morning, it turned out to be "the snowstorm that wasn’t," at least in Laramie,
Other parts of Wyoming did get many inches of snow, as you can see from these photos of the snowies...
taken while walking along the ridge above the golf course, where it was windy.
Last week they were looking like this...
I’ve been fortunate to have a great walking companion, who alas, is leaving for Scotland next week.
I’m going to miss her spirit and her constant need to be in motion, which has helped to keep me up on my feet and traipsing all over town and up at the summit this past week.
Fortunately, she'll be returning come August.
[Frankly, I feel lucky that we had what we had, rather than what those poor folks who got hit by tornadoes had to endure this past week.]
TWC had predicted 8-10 inches for Tuesday night, and another 3-5 on Wednesday.
When I awoke Wednesday morning, I was expecting a pile of snow needing to be shoveled.
Thankfully, that wasn't necessary.
While we did have “weather” Tuesday evening and the roads to Denver were closed until 10 a.m. Wednesday morning, it turned out to be "the snowstorm that wasn’t," at least in Laramie,
Other parts of Wyoming did get many inches of snow, as you can see from these photos of the snowies...
taken while walking along the ridge above the golf course, where it was windy.
Last week they were looking like this...
I’ve been fortunate to have a great walking companion, who alas, is leaving for Scotland next week.
I’m going to miss her spirit and her constant need to be in motion, which has helped to keep me up on my feet and traipsing all over town and up at the summit this past week.
Fortunately, she'll be returning come August.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
A light in the forest
A friend and I drove up to the Summit today—to cross-country ski territory—for a walk through the woods.
It was beautiful.
I don’t know why, but we hadn’t expected to find snow—deep snow, knee deep in some places.
Neither of us was dressed for the weather, with me in tennis shoes, a hoodie and a little Lands Ends vest, and not a glove between us.
With snow covering the hilly ski trails, it was hard work making our way into the woods, but it was well worth the effort.
After awhile tho, the wind picked up and we noticed the sky turning dark and ominous and then remembered that the morning forecast had called for rain and snow.
So we decided to make our way back to the car before the sky opened up, except that each path looked the same and we weren't sure, with the deep snow, which was the best path out.
For a bit there, with the uncertainty of where in the mountain woods we were—and at an elevation of over 8,000 ft—I felt a slight twinge of fear, wondering if my cell phone would work or if the lightening that had visited the night before would return, with what looked to be an impending storm.
I thought about how both our Legal Dudes were out of town—so no one knew where we were—and that I was at a complete loss direction wise or had no idea which way was out.
Such were the thoughts that mulled around in my mind as I tried not to let my apprehension show.
Fortunately, my companion had been on the trails enough times to have an idea in which direction to go, and after a few minutes, the fear subsided and I begin to feel a bit of a thrill.
The thrill of not having to wander in the wet and the cold, or to have to spend the night, lost in the dark.
The thrill of feeling like a nonchalant western, mountain, or frontier woman, even though I’m anything but.
I am, after all, just a city gal, abnormally afraid of bears, mountain lions and anything with four legs and teeth.
I’d do it again—tho next time, I’d take a compass.
It was beautiful.
I don’t know why, but we hadn’t expected to find snow—deep snow, knee deep in some places.
Neither of us was dressed for the weather, with me in tennis shoes, a hoodie and a little Lands Ends vest, and not a glove between us.
With snow covering the hilly ski trails, it was hard work making our way into the woods, but it was well worth the effort.
So we decided to make our way back to the car before the sky opened up, except that each path looked the same and we weren't sure, with the deep snow, which was the best path out.
For a bit there, with the uncertainty of where in the mountain woods we were—and at an elevation of over 8,000 ft—I felt a slight twinge of fear, wondering if my cell phone would work or if the lightening that had visited the night before would return, with what looked to be an impending storm.
I thought about how both our Legal Dudes were out of town—so no one knew where we were—and that I was at a complete loss direction wise or had no idea which way was out.
Such were the thoughts that mulled around in my mind as I tried not to let my apprehension show.
Fortunately, my companion had been on the trails enough times to have an idea in which direction to go, and after a few minutes, the fear subsided and I begin to feel a bit of a thrill.
The thrill of not having to wander in the wet and the cold, or to have to spend the night, lost in the dark.
The thrill of feeling like a nonchalant western, mountain, or frontier woman, even though I’m anything but.
 |
| We had no idea what this tool--left by the Nordic Ski Club--but figured it might come in handy |
 |
| Signs of spring, despite the winter weather |
 |
| The W.C. |
 |
| Safe and sound as we make our way back to the car |
I’d do it again—tho next time, I’d take a compass.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Love, from my teenager…
I know I shouldn’t do this, but—
There are some posts, that really should not see the light of day, and I usually keep them under wraps.
However, this is one post that I love too much to keep to myself, and would like to have for “Blog posterity.”
Whatever you do, however, please—please—please, never tell the teenager, or at least not until he becomes an adult.
There are some posts, that really should not see the light of day, and I usually keep them under wraps.
However, this is one post that I love too much to keep to myself, and would like to have for “Blog posterity.”
Whatever you do, however, please—please—please, never tell the teenager, or at least not until he becomes an adult.
The reason I LIKE my momRemember...not a word to the teenager!
I like my mom because
Because she is funny and knows some
Stuff
I like my mom because
She likes to have dinner parties
That makes me hide in my room
I like my mom because
She has know it all syndrome
And it is funny to watch her
I love my mom because
She is sweet and kind
And has a big heart
I love my mom for all of those reasons
But mostly because my mom is so nice
I love to love my mom
Mother’s Day Brunch
We tried this for Sunday brunch…
Our Herbed-Baked Eggs may not look like Ina Garten’s, but my-oh-my, are they ever delicious.
Even the teenager liked them and said, yeah—he would eat them again.
Try them!
They are truly delish and I do not think you will be disappointed.
 |
| Our attempt at Herbed Baked Eggs a la Ina Garten |
 |
| Barefoot in Paris Cookbook |
 |
| Ina Garten's Herbed-Baked Eggs from Barefoot in Paris |
They are truly delish and I do not think you will be disappointed.
A Frontier Woman’s Mother’s Day…
I’ve been thinking for some time now, about getting a cow gal hat...
so the Legal Dude decided to get me one for Mother’s Day.
I forget what that twined rope thingy is called, but it’s usually hooked under the chin while riding—or as only in Wyoming, whenever the wind blows. (I'm told this is the way to lay a hat so as not to lose it's shape.)
My hat is from Martindale’s Western Wear in downtown Laramie, where I went to get...
this funky looking little Boot Jack, since I have such a hard time getting my boots off—old age and poor achy lumbar—and have been telling the Legal Dude I want one, besides he could use it too.
My oh my! What a difference a Boot Jack makes!
More important, however, I wanted to the Legal Dude to see a really sweet pair of Corral boots I'm thinking I might want for my birthday...
Yep. No problem—I can definitely make them me.
so the Legal Dude decided to get me one for Mother’s Day.
I forget what that twined rope thingy is called, but it’s usually hooked under the chin while riding—or as only in Wyoming, whenever the wind blows. (I'm told this is the way to lay a hat so as not to lose it's shape.)
My hat is from Martindale’s Western Wear in downtown Laramie, where I went to get...
this funky looking little Boot Jack, since I have such a hard time getting my boots off—old age and poor achy lumbar—and have been telling the Legal Dude I want one, besides he could use it too.
My oh my! What a difference a Boot Jack makes!
More important, however, I wanted to the Legal Dude to see a really sweet pair of Corral boots I'm thinking I might want for my birthday...
 |
| The pair I want is tone on tone w/out the tourquise inlay. |
First though, I needed to make sure I could “make them me,” since they are nothing like I have ever worn before.
Yep. No problem—I can definitely make them me.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Believe it, or not...
This is NOT what I expect to see early on a May morn...
 |
| 8:00 A.M. in the Coe Library Parking Lot |
 |
| Obviously these cars are parked outside at night |
 |
| Notice the snow on the cars behind the mini (of which there are a handful here) |
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