Monday, September 5, 2011

Notes from this week

It has been a good week for me. The wild Nevadan girl inside me is cheerful and optimistic. I landed a job in Tonopah and with any luck will have the family moved from Kingston soon. The job is going great but has cut into my blog fix. So, here’s my notes about things and me, from this past week.

This weekend my family was invited to a wall raising party for a straw bale house nearby, in Big Smoky Valley. It is a dream fruition of a Wild Nevadan friend of mine, Kim, that has been about seven years in the making. She managed to talk about 30 of her friends and family into some very hot, dusty, labor. The results are astounding….naw it is wild.
The boys LOVED it.
Hay All...and 

I just had to post this pic of Kim's daughter... I love women who aren't afraid of power tools...Work it baby!

Of course the kids finally wore out on the third day (and there seemed to be plenty of hands) so I made a little excuse about them needing a nap, so I might take them home. And, the car was already very dirty so I found a dirt road I had never taken before to toot around on, you know, until they woke up.

Then, of course I found something interesting under a pine tree. The words to a George Strait song came to mind. I bet these clay pigeons will not be here for a long time; because they are here for a good time...

At this point I realized I was about to go off the well beaten path in the Mommy car, with my boys, and without having told anyone where I was going, or what I was up to.

And, so, it was time to turn around and head home. 

So, there was my weekend off from work. And here are some notes I gathered as I meandered my week, but was too busy to actually post on The Dancing Tumbleweed Blog.

Notes: A few somethings that are less than domestic about HjB...
  • A tool I love: the spade shovel. I am a mother mucker.
  • A tool I hate: the hammer. Wild. Whack. Fest.
  • Favorite object: my red cowgirl boots, but my husband’s boots do nicely as slip on, “I’m taking this out to the trash barrel.”
  • Something I find randomly inspiring: old women in old pickup trucks. Thumbs up. You go girl.
  • Something you will find by the coffee pot every morning: a coffee, sugar, milk/cream mess that I will get around to when I am good and ready.
  • Something you can always talk me in to: heavy whipping cream.
  • Something I do every day that I have to talk myself in to: showering
  • Something I do quarterly (or when tasked) that I really really have to talk myself in to: shaving my legs
  • Something you will never catch me doing: sewing, knitting or crochet.
  • Something you will catch me doing only if my mother is on her way or if I believe I will get paid: matching socks.
  • Household items not allowed in my house (no matter what) mostly because I believe they are 1. dangerous or 2. cause unnecessary work that will somehow be tasked to me (the woman), which would offend me: a mechanical sewing machine and the iron/ironing board combo. 
  • Common household item I cannot live without under any circumstance: coffee pot.
  • Favorite accessory: a hat to fit any mood. The bigger the hat the better. Lately it has been an old black cowboy hat that I confiscated from my man. But, like the heavy whip, I can be talked in to anything.
  • Things I forget to bring when I am traveling: Either my toothbrush or my hair brush, but not both.
  • The most domestic (and weirdest) thing about me: The laundry: It is all my fault there is a giant pile because I do have particulars. I cannot handle too big a wash load; or wet clothes that are not dried right away; And so, I double rinse and triple fluff. Every. Single. Load. I have no issue with how the clothes are folded but nobody is as invested in the laundry as myself, so it is always mine to fold.
...And just because I am feeling it, I found the blog notes I lost to cyber space last Tuesday night so I might as well open that can of worms and insert my foot here: Keep in mind I was on location in Tonopah working my fool head off and without the fam.
‘Twas the eve of Wild Wednesday. 8/30/2011. A gentle breeze is through yonder window that will wake me with its light. Already I can imagine the chucker browsing in the street and yard below when I rise to greet tomorrow. You know, Wednesday.
At the moment I am slightly humming with the satisfaction of two days a workin’. I have seen more than several hundred familiar faces and feel like I fit right back into the mix. Well, that is blind hope for you. Tumbleweed wishes for happy trails and dust tails.
I have nothing wild planned, but have no doubt my and your Wednesday will be as wild as that which proceeded. Are you tired with this business of living a week at a time? Do we dare call it a club? Ah, I say over the hump to Friday, and if we are lucky, it is a four day weekend ahead.
Rest will be good and sweet with that comforting 10 mph breeze. Cheers to the rest of the week.
Loves, HjB

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