The Saga of Woody's Hat

On Easter Sunday my dad had arranged to get together with some friends and buck a couple of horses (My dad raises bucking horses). We loaded up the bucking horse he had at his house and a saddle horse for my brother and headed to town. Dad, I, Spud, Bub and Shorty all in the Mega Cab pick-up. We drove into town and stopped at the fairgrounds to drop off the horses we had, then headed out to the friends' house to help them load the other bucking horse and saddle horse and the branding supplies since we needed to brand the two bucking horses too. Just outside of the fairgrounds Dad stopped because Bub's door wasn't shut tight. Bub shut the door and we headed on.

When we got to the friends' house the adults went to help load. Bub came up to me and said "Mom, Woody's hat is missing."

I asked if he was sure that he'd brought it from the house and he said yes. So, I told him that it probably fell out at the fairgrounds and we'd look when we got back there. As we drove back I watched for the place where we stopped to shut the door, and sure enough, there was Woody's hat on the side of the street. Woody and his hat were reunited and all was good.

We proceeded to the arena, unloaded the other horses and got ready to brand. Bub and Shorty asked if they could play in the arena and I said yes. My parents live in a sandy soil area, so it is basically a big sandbox and the kids love it.

My mom showed up and we were talking with one of the friends when Shorty came running and giggling, climbing over fences to get to us. Following her was a VERY angry Bub. I asked what the problem was and Bub informed me that Shorty had BURIED Woody's hat in the arena.

I rolled my eyes and told her to go dig it up and give it back. She sooooo loves to torture her big brother.

Twenty minutes later we were ready to start bucking the horses and the kids were still digging in the arena, trying to find the hat. I helped them dig for another ten...no hat. Bub turns to me and says "Mom, a cowboy has to have a hat." At eight years old, Bub has great sad puppy dog eyes. Just kills me every time. Poor kid is heartbroken that Woody has lost his hat. The arena ate it. It was never found. Unfortunately, it's hard to find just the hat for a 16" Woody doll, so a brand new Woody is on his way thanks to eBay. And Shorty owes me at least $10 of her tooth and birthday money. Hope everyone had a great Easter!

Keeyah!

This is my son. He started his karate program in January. He absolutely loves it and would go every day if I'd let him. Now my daughter wants to start.

Last one for today...

I came across this picture and had to post it. We drove by this house every time we went to my grandpa's house. Lots of memories. Grandpa died when I was 10, and I still miss him every day.

More Pictures

Here are some more pictures of Nebraska. These pictures are just of the scenery around here and my parents' house. Don't ever let anyone tell you Nebraska is flat. I also want to thank all of you for your comments. It nice to know someone actually looks at my page!

Pictures

Thanks to Paul at Igotyourbackman (see the blogroll) I can now post pictures. I thought for starters I'd post some of our horses.

HELP!

I want to add pictures to my posts, but have no idea how. If anyone knows can you please help me? Thanks.

-Nebraska Girl-

Life in the Great Plains

Mrs. 4444 of Half-Past Kissin' Time asked me about living in the Great Plains. She said it sounded "romantic and cowboyish". I guess it can be at times, but I'd say it's more cowboyish than romantic.

I grew up in a ranch family. We ride horses. We rodeo. We hunt. We fish. We spend a lot of time outdoors. I'd post some pictures here if I knew how.

I don't tell people online where I live, because it's a small town. The 2000 census put us at slightly over 5,600. My parents live in a town of slightly less than 3,000. I work for a government agency and I want to be a teacher someday, so I felt it prudent not to throw my name around on the internet.

As far as my home state, Nebraska, goes there are some really interesting places to visit. There are forts that date from the 1880's Indian Wars era to WWII. There are some really neat state parks and museums. Some of these places require driving on dirt roads (and I mean dirt, they rarely have gravel) to get there.

If you ever get to Nebraska, even if you're just driving through, DO NOT drive I-80. I-80 will take you across the most boring and flat part of our state. Drive on Highway 20 instead, it actually has scenery.

And don't forget to stop at Carhenge

Food!

I love to cook. I tend to spend weekends reading food blogs and tracking down new recipes. The new season of Top Chef started on Wednesday, and I was so excited to watch it. Unfortunately there were a lot of *Bleep*s. My 7 year old daughter likes the show too, and it bothers me to let her watch something with that much cussing, even when it's bleeped out. But anyway, one of the dishes made was a souffle. Being from Nebraska I've never seen a souffle. That's just not something my grandma ever made. Well, since it's the weekend and I'm looking up recipes anyway, I decided to look it up.

In doing so I stumbled upon a wonderful food blog Fallen Souffle. Bon apetite!

She didn't deserve the d*@# ring!

I was reading this article today, and this line caught my eye:

"Now she is refusing to speak
to me until I get her a new ring."

The guy tries to create a unique proposal, and the ring literally blows away. The poor man is desperate to get the ring back, and when he tells his girlfriend does she sympathize with him? No, she complains that he lost HER ring! Why do men like women like that?

Who shot Thumper?

I'm a rodeo girl and a hunter, so when my dad's cousin told us this story my jaw almost hit the floor.

"Somewhere between Guthrie
and Abilene, a small caliber
bullet exploded through a trailer
traveling south on Highway 83
and landed in the brain of Garrett
Nokes' rodeo calf-roping horse."

It bothers me that some of the commenters state that there's a lot of hog hunting in the area, but the tone suggests that this is just a natural result of that. I can't speak for other hunters, but I was taught from the very first day I picked up a gun that you never shoot at anything if you can't tell what's behind it. If you can't be certain that your shot isn't going to hit someone's cow or some innocent hiker, you do not shoot.

I know Garrett. He married into the family, and I high school rodeoed with him. This loss is more than just money to Garrett. To lose a horse that you really click with is devastating. When you consistently compete on the same horse you form a real bond with them. It hurts when you lose a horse like that. Add that to the fact that a well trained horse of that caliber can cost in excess of $50,000 dollars.

The scariest part, like Garrett said when telling this story to family members, is if he'd been going any slower the bullet could have come through the cab and killed one of the guys traveling with him, or even Garrett himself.

Remember This Next Time You Go To Wal-Mart

Xavier's trip to Wal-Mart was a bit more interesting than he expected:

"I handed Little Darling her bag and
took her hand as we began to
negotiate the maze of parked automobiles.
I glanced back and saw that the two
young men had spread apart, one on either
side of us and to the rear. That is when I felt it.
They had matched my stride and were
circling me. Like an antelope, I knew I was
being stalked by jackals, only I
did not know why. Time was accelerating
at head pounding speed, and Little Darling,
blissfully unaware, was along for the ride."

It makes me realize that I need to pay more attention to my surroundings. A single mother can't afford to be distracted.