Stick Horse Cowgirls

I felt sad when the news anchor broke in to announce that Paul Newman died a few weeks ago. Shortly after, my youngest daughter called to be sure I had heard the sad news. "He reminded me of grandaddy", she said. Yes, he reminds me of my father too. The same coloring, silver hair, blue eyes, handsome features, and athletic grace. My dad was pretty "cool" too. He was a pool player extraordinaire who had played with the best of them - Minnesota Fats and Fast Eddie of The Hustler movie fame. Fast Eddie was the best according to my authority! He loved that movie and even more the Paul Newman/Tom Cruise movie, The Color of Money . When my dad passed away, there were people lined up wanting to buy his custom made pool cue, which of course my mother would never sell! I'm exaggerating just a little ! lol Now it may sound contradictory to say that someone who hung out at the pool hall was a gentlemen. I conjure up imaginations of a smoky, sleazy atmosphere, and it is de...

Bear with me, here: FYI, I have learned to bushhog!! It was great fun, although the pasture does not look as good as it did when my wayward husband used to do it. I must say that, while it was fairly easy, I had a moment on a hillside when I thought I was going to tump over and realized I could kill myself in a heartbeat on this thing... must not go on hills horizontally! I am working on my farmer's tan, too. To be fair to myself about how the job looked, I must say that the grass had grown over my head in places and I am not yet skilled in getting around trees, etc., although I am getting there. I think the next bushhogging will make the place look decent. I was running low on fuel and have to get diesel before continuing. I can't believe I'm buying diesel--this is way out of my bailiwick, but I'm adapting. I also have learned how to air up the tractor tire with a compressor ( !!!) and, when I found the tractor battery was dead, I charged it up all by myself!!! Of c...

So we fifty-something cowgirls had just turned three-years old when we first met. Alas, I am the older, by exactly one month! My parents had built a new house in a new neighborhood, like so many neighborhoods of the mid-fifties fashioned for World War II veterans with growing young families. Both of our dads were members of that "greatest generation," Navy veterans of the South Pacific theatre. I remember our parents were visiting at the edge of our adjoining properties as C's house was still in the building phase. Her mom was holding her baby brother and somehow we both ended up on my new swingset. There began a lifelong friendship so unusual today as neighbors move off and lose touch in our fragmented society. We galloped all over that neighborhood, because it was some years later that people began putting up fences. Red haired Randy lived up the street and we all played together, although I do not recall that the boys in the neighborhood ever rode stick horses. Seems t...

This morning was take-out-the-trash day. This is a chore that I have been accustomed to leaving to hubby or my son. Since neither of them is here any longer, it falls to moi ! I was determined to do my duty! Of course, duty can get in the way. I had a 9:30 a.m. appointment—no problem; I had plenty of time. That is, no problem until you factor in my “dutiful” (new) exercise regime. I got out and did a brisk walk. It was invigorating! It ran me late… I dressed in my lawyer clothes, congratulating myself on remembering the trash, a task I normally manage to repress. I went out with the first bag (yes, there were multiples, being the trashy person that I am) and stowed it in the “way back” of my little SUV. I left the back door open and went in for more. As I returned, my heart warmed; there was my Chili (one of my dogs, a Belgian Malinois), laid up in the back of the car. “Awwww,” I thought. “Poor Chili wants to go for a ride! How sweet!” Then I noticed the bottle. Lying on the ground beh...

A few days ago a good friend e mailed me one of those questionnaires. You've seen hundreds of them; I usually pass them by. But this was a good friend sending it to me, and it was one of those days. I "bit" and answered the questions, forwarding it on per the instructions. It turned out to be great fun as all my "forwards" sent their answers right back, and I enjoyed reading them. One of the questions was, " What was your favorite childhood toy ?" I did not even hesitate: mine was my stick horse! From age three to about ten (probably older!) I had a whole stableful of stick horses. I had the luxury models with the plush on the outside, and I had the plastic-headed kind (these "mid-levels" were usually either white or red, as I recall). Those two models had reins: a distinct plus! These were the days before stick horses came with sound capability; all our horses' whinnies and snorts had to come through our lips! But the stick horse that fl...