Just Call Him A Bull Rider…

You heard me speak of my good fortune at finding a strong young man to help us move and do heavy lifting for me. This is Jonathan getting his game face on…

Both his daddy and his granddaddy were bull riders.  Jon started riding when he was 5 years old and after 9 years the boy is practically a veteran.  They only let him ride steers, which really ‘chaps his ass’, pun intended, but he will be 15 in April and then can start riding the big bulls.

   One of the neat things about going to small local forums is that I can walk around and watch what the cowboys do to prepare for their ride.  Here Jon is working on the baling wire on his spurs that go under the heel of his boots to help keep them from slipping when he gets hooked into the hide of the bull.

Some riders like to tie their boots on with strips of latigo. They DO NOT want their feet to slip out of their boots causing them to lose their leg grip.

And another example… or two.  Each cowboy has their own routine that they go through, kind of like every other sport, they have their own superstitions.

I thought these chaps were good looking… not much else is on this photo…

This shot looks a little better…

And check out these blue chaps.

Jonathan strapping his chaps up, getting ready for his ride.

Waiting his turn.  There were 21 entries in the bull riding division so they ran out 10 of the bull riders, then ran Jon’s group, the steer riders, then the mutton busters which was won by a GIRL!!!  Wooo Hoooo!!!  Then came time for Jon’s group.

He asked me if I could video his ride for him and I told him I’d try.  I’d only done it once so here is my try at video with my point and shoot camera…

Except for the fact that I can’t figure out how to get it to download. I’m unloading my boxes as fast as I can to try and figure it out.  I know where the video is, it is the verbiage that is killing me.  I give them (those gremlins that reside in my computer) the answers to the questions as best as I can figure out but then I get something like the path is incorrect or the name isn’t right for the transition to be made and my ever favorite,         ” You’re an idiot that can’t figure out shit about computers!”

When I do figure it out I’ll have a bunch of videos to share. Right now I think I’ll go back to bed and cry myself to sleep.

Yep. I Got Muddy, Too…

There are times in my life that I will admit to being not quite bright, as my friend from Kentucky would say… Not often, but there are those infrequent times.  They usually transpire when I’m tired and worn down and the brain is kicking in a bit slow…

We decided that the safest thing to do was to leave the U-Haul on the gravel drive, hitch the little trailer on my pickup, drive it around to the big barn, load it and then drive it back to the drive and load it off the trailer into the U-Haul.

First we had to figure the route around the back of the trailer. And we did… with Jonathan and me both getting stuck once apiece.  However, Jonathan being a country boy was a bit smarter than me…

Duh… did ‘ja know that it’s right smart to shut your car door and not try to help push because your tires are spinning and throwing mud… all over my car door, my leg, my little trailer and the stuff on it.

The back end of  my pick-up and stuff that was in it.

The stuff on the trailer…

Another photo of the stuff.   Jonathan was the one that may have saved my life… If I’d had to do all this by myself I probably would have stroked out.

On top of working like a dog helping Walter and me with loading all the stuff, he was tending to his little sister, Haley.  He was very patient with her, letting her hand him little stuff that she could and when she would get in a place where she might get hurt or be in the way he would sit her on the back of the big truck to one side or the other or sit her on the tailgate of my pick up. 

And that boy can back up a trailer ‘way better than me.  Notice how nonchalant baby sister is… when I’d drive around she would sit inside the truck until I shut the engine off.

When I got home after the last trip to storage I asked Carol to take a picture for you all… actually two.

I took off my boots in the garage to try to minimize what I might bring into the house…

And this was just to show you that I walked in under my own power, on my own two sock feet and as soon as she took these pictures I went back out to the garage and stripped down and went straight to bed.

I didn’t even care about taking a bath first because I was so tired I’d have probably gone to sleep and drowned.  And my furbabies didn’t care if I might have been a little stinky,  they were just glad mom was home and all was right in their world.

If you want a bit more of a laugh, put your cursor on the picture of me in the truck with mud on me and the door…

I leave this nasty tale now.  I’ve got a lot of laundry to do…

Note To Self...

When you add forty years and forty-+ pounds with muscle memory that has Alzheimers and competitive spirit that should slowed down it adds up to P.A.I.N.

I went to my niece's yesterday afternoon for hamburgers and swimming and visiting. I shoulda just stuck to those things, but they had set up a volleyball court in their back yard so they could play with their friends, their kids and grandkids and even an old aunt who should have just sat and watched.

But, no, I had to decide I couldn't stand to watch. After all, it was one of those sports I was (was being the 'operative' word) good at in school, forty + years ago. Not one minute into my playing time, our side was trying to get the ball over, there was a mis-hit and I went to save it. First upon turning quickly to try get to the ball before it hit the ground I stubbed my toes and lost my balance. Things went south from there.

I fell. I fell all over the place. I did a great landing with my left arm under me. You get the idea that you might have done a super "oh, no" when you actually hear a popping noise at the same exact time that pain rips through your body... I did manage to get up and my niece was like,"Aunt Helen, are you okay???" I told her I was okay but that I needed to sit for a bit and went back to my chair and sat.

I turned to Bro, who was sitting by me watching all the going's on, and told him I either separated a rib or broke a rib. We sat and watched the youngsters and visited for another hour. Bro drove us home and I hit the muscle relaxer and the pain meds. I did get some rest last night, but I'm here to tell you that I won't be going to make the big save any more.

I might have been able to be the she-ro when I was way younger, but I've got to figure out some way to shine that is age compatible now. Because it's not fun to hurt like this. So take heed, my friends, because one of these days there will be a time when you say, "I can do that!" that you really can't, despite what you think.

Meanwhile Back At The Ranch...

The Lone Ranger is disguised as a wall... Tonto comes in and plasters his crack.

Do you ever have those days where you have what I call 'Stupididitties" running through your head all day, for no reason other than you are having a brain shrinkage day and they have room to run around?

Now brain shrinkage days are different than brain fart days. Brain fart days are just weird. P.E.R.I.O.D. Someone will ask you something and your mind just goes blank. You know the answer, but your mind goes blank and your face goes blank and whomever you're talking to can't decide whether to rap on your noggin with their knuckles to wake you up or to call 911 thinking you just had a stroke because they think you can't speak.

After about, mmm say, 17 false alarms, they finally get that your hard drive is stuck waiting for your ram to run to the hinterland of your brain to dig up an answer and they no longer have you hold out you arms, smile (to see if both sides of your mouth move) and speak, to see if anything other than drool comes out.

I, of course, am used to all the above because I have lived with me for 64 years. And a good portion of those years I've lived with 3 individuals, me, myself and I... and I like to be entertained, so me and myself have collected enough stupididitties and oddities to entertain the I of my life.

Now you do understand that when you've collected these nonsensical facts, fictions and jokes that there is little room left for much more than native intelligence. So sometimes when a person asks me a 'normal' question such as what did you have for dinner last night I have to stop and wait for the ram to pull the info out of the files and download it to my brain to vocalize it.

BUT (and a big but it is) if you asked me if I knew any Lone Ranger jokes I could pop of the above and more... such as the Lone Ranger was disguised as a pool table... Tonto comes in and racks his balls.

So if we ever meet, you may want to ask me a question about something 'normal', consider this...do you want to have to wait for a minute or two while my brain kicks in, or if you do not want to take that much time, then just ask me if I've heard any good knock-knock jokes, bawdy limericks, or downright tasteless dirty parrot jokes... and I'll pop something back at you...

Instantaneously.