Post 132

As I said last week, here is the woman's point of view from my last post.  I hope you enjoy reading it! 

Have a blessed day.

~~~~

“This is where you get off, ma'am,” the ticket man announced as he whirled by me.

I glanced out the window and sighed. The passing buildings were still in a blur as we began the process of slowing to a stop. In a sudden moment, the whole train came to a complete, rough halt. All passengers fell forward. But unlike the old gentleman across the aisle from me, I caught myself before hitting the seat. Over all, that was the roughest part of the whole trip to this forgotten town in the middle of nowhere.

I was on a mission, so to speak, and had a rushed air about me. This train ride was taking much longer than expected, but I had arrived safe and sound to my destination. Now, if I could only get off of this filthy train without trouble.

I set foot in the covered station at 12:01 pm. I glanced around me long enough to see a person kindly watching me as I took in my surroundings. I turned my head and looked for any sign that would direct me to my next destination, but found none.

Just then, the train's loud whistle blew and echoed in the station. No one got off besides me, but a family of five mounted the train and were now pulling out of the station.

The train huffed out a cloud of smoke and dust which only sat in the air, hardly settling to the ground. One more glance at the person, I walked for the dusty smoke as if a superhero entering a deadly fog. The watching person wasn't seen again through the white fluff which was not fluffy to the touch, and I went on my way.

I am sure he was wondering my reasons to land in this town. I am of high tastes and wear fine clothes, not the highest price tag, but neither the lowest. What I had seen so far, this town would not suit me for the rest of my life. My new motto was, “Get in, get it done, get out” and I did just that.

My job was easy. All I had to do was find the right man and take him to the police, get the next mission, and be on my way. I was an undercover bounty hunter, or whatever you wish to call that line of income. I am good at it. I mean who would suspect a woman in this day and age to bring in crooks?

So, let's just hope the watching person didn't come to the conclusion that I'm a bounty hunter. His looks matched perfect with my man's description.

 

~~~~

 

 

PBR

Guess where we went Saturday night.  Actually, the post title gives it away. 

Yep, the PBR (professional bull riding) came to Guymon, OK.  At first, there was no plan of us going.  But that quickly changed when Dad was listening to the radio one morning.  They were giving away four tickets for caller number one.
He didn't call right away, thinking he was too slow.  When they announced that they still had tickets, he took the opportunity and picked up the phone.
When asked why he wanted the tickets, Dad answered, "I want to take my kids to something different."
  

 
Saturday morning Mom and us girls (Little J. and me) went to another town and got autographs from five pretty famous men.  Here are two pictures from that morning.
 

Kasey Hays

Cord McCoy

After spending the day at home, all five of us headed to Guymon.  We got a nice supper of burgers and headed to the rodeo arena.  Boy, was that a happening place!  Cars and people were everywhere.  We ended up parking on some street a block away and walked in.  It was just as fast, maybe faster, than driving.

One of my favorite bulls

 Then the fun began.

Kasey Hays, who's from a nearby town, won the whole night. 

It was another great family outing.  : )



The gorgeous sunset

Post 130

Good morning, blog readers.  After much thought, I've decided to post one of my short stories.  It's just a little something I wrote a year ago and when reading it just now, I found it interesting. 

~~~~

 

She arrived on the 12 o'clock train heading south. Nothing in her hands except a suitcase and handbag with gloves sticking out as if wanting to see where they were going. She had her hair in a bun, her body in a casual black dress, and her feet in tan high-heeled shoes which clomped as she walked across the train station.

The train soon tooted its horn, blasting all human ears by echoing through the long, low station, and departed, filling half the room with smoke and dust that sat in the air with no place to go. Everyone hurried away as the humid heat rose in the building. Sweat was easy to come by and everybody got his fair share of it. She was no exception. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck.  She refused to let it bother her and walked forward, in the direction the train had left. She was heading straight for the unsettled dust.

As I observed her walk and attitude towards life—or what life of hers I saw—she seemed not to mind the little cloud of unwelcomed dust before her. I could only wonder what her story was. Maybe she came from a broken home. Her parents might have disowned her for some mystery of a reason. Or maybe she had just lost a very dear friend and had come to live with some family member who was old and lonely. She might have lost a lover in the war and couldn't stand her home town without him. She could be in search of a husband and family of her own. Could she be a traveling lady just out for an adventure to this new state. Would she find what she was looking for? Would she find out her new quest was to figure out the deepest secret of the town? Maybe she was a detective; she did act as if she knew where she was going.

I sat there in pure suspense and kept my mind spinning with ideas about the lady's reason for arriving here in my home town. For my town is nothing like the big cities or small country towns. My town is between. People don't like to stay very long, or if possible, they won't stay at all. It's the town in which the townspeople know who all is a friend and who will make fun of their home.

My eyes returned from dream land of making up stories about the lady and I found her to be reaching the dust at last. I got one good look before she was lost in the envelope of smoke and dust combined. I suppose I'll never find out what became of the lady. I have yet to see her walk the sidewalks of our town or have dinner at the only café in town, and a girl's got to eat you know. My guess is that the little lady in the station is long gone and was just a passer-through, not a true friend, for like they say, only true friends stay in this town.

~~~~

Tune in next week for the woman's point of view.  : )

Humble

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.  James 4:10

 

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. 

Rather in humility value others above yourselves.  Philippians 2:3

 

Humble-- having a low estimate of one's self; modest; meek; submissive...

 

"I like your hair."  You did great!"  Keep it up."  You're very talented."  "That's impressive."

 

I don't know about you, but it's easy to let compliments go to a person's head.  We all like getting a good word from another person.  It's fun and you realize people really like you.  In reality, who doesn't like receiving a compliment?

 

No one.

 

Everybody has something (or things) they're good at.  I'm no exception.  However, lately I've been getting the sickening feeling that I've let way too many compliments go to my head.  I feel sorry that I've done that.

 

So, I apologize.

 

Too often I'd get a compliment, take it, and  stick it in my mental jar of nice things people said to me.  I'd puff my chest (not literally) and my level of pride would rise.  It didn't bother me much for a while.  People were just saying kind things after all.  I do the same.  But one Sunday it dawned on me.

 

We were eating dinner with some of our friends after church.  Somehow, and I really have no idea how, the conversation turned to writing books and wanting to be an author.  It surprised me a little as our friends looked directly at me and asked, "So you want to be an author?"  "Have you written anything good?"  "Can you write a book for me?"  etc....  Being the quiet one and now having the opportunity to speak, I jumped at it!  

 

Something inside of me lit up and I rattled on and on about my writing ability.  "Yes!  I want to be a published author some day.  I adore writing."  "I once entered a contest and was one of four winners.  There were only 90,000 kids who entered.  So, I think that's pretty good."  (I can see myself repeatedly bowing and saying weak "thank you's" as roses are tossed at my feet.)  "Oh, I don't know...what type of book would you want?"  etc.... 

 

I looked over to one friend in particular and saw something different in their face.  It was more of disappointment than being happy for me.  I kind of slinked away and the guilt cloud poured on me. 

 

I had not been humble. 

 

Instead I bragged.  Most of what I said was true, yes, but that didn't change the fact.  I hadn't handled myself correctly and it made me upset.

That conversation was really the eye opener.

 

I was invited to a writer's group thing and I was delighted to actually get to attend.  During the days before, I was worried about the part where the other writers would tell me how my work sounded.  I was scared that I would again get big headed and vacuum up the beautiful words.  Or get disheartened if they didn't like my work.  I tried to prepare myself, silly as it may sound.

 

And...  I don't think my head swelled much!  I took the compliments, that did in fact come, with a coolness about me.  I also took the suggestions and tips like a big girl.  See, my stories weren't/aren't perfect and in my life of writing (and whatever else I do) I will have to harden to the criticism.  There will always be that, so I'll get plenty of chances to practice. 

 

Throughout my life, I've been blessed with many compliments and I am thankful for them.  I guess verbal affection is what I like best.  Anyway, I need to stop expecting those smooth words.  I need to stop taking them like a spoiled girl.  I'm not perfect.  I don't do everything perfectly.  I don't need a compliment at every corner.  : )

   

 



Kenton Area Branding

 
Even though I put these pictures on Facebook, I want to share them on my blog as well.  Hope you like them. 

On 4th of July weekend Dad, Big J., and I went to Kenton, OK, to help brand. 
 
The first night: we unloaded our horses, fed them, and put them in their pen.  We ate supper and finally got to bed after ten o'clock.
Four AM comes around pretty fast when you get to bed late!  We got up, saddled in the light of the moon, and stood and talked in the kitchen until breakfast was served.  We left the Bed and Breakfast around six, the long line of pickups and trailers headed west.
The first gather was very easy since the cattle were in the closest corner.  Once penned, the cows were sorted.  Some had horns growing towards their skulls so those were held in the pen, roped, and then the horns were sawed off by Dad.  There was a little excitement during that and most everybody came out bloody, though not their own blood.
There were calves from little to big, thus there were flankers from young to older.  I got to flank some bit and really enjoyed it, as always.
We finished 35 head and went in for dinner. 
 

 
A handful of men and women napped in the lazy afternoon weather.  But the work wasn't done yet.  We headed east for a few miles, then drove through some canyons.  We arrived at the ranch house, one which had been built in one week and made from rock. 
It began looking rainy so we three tied our raincoats to our saddles.  Everyone rode out and began searching for 50 or so head of cattle.
After finding nothing in the canyon we were in, we turned back.  Not long after, huge rain drops dive-bombed us.  We had just enough time to pull on our raincoats before it really started to rain.  Seeking shelter from a tree, we watched the rain give water to the ground.  Our friends were less fortunate.  They had no raincoats and only the shelter of a much smaller tree.
The rain passed after a few minutes and we rode to our friends.  They were fine, but cold and wet.  The littlest was indeed changing to a blue color, so he was taken back to the ranch house to change and warm up.
When we had gathered all of the riders, we decided the next place to look for the cattle.  Now that the rain had come, all of the cattle's tracks had vanished.
Dad, Big J., and I rode off with three other men and continued searching.  The ground was rocky, cactus grew wherever it pleased, so the ride was slower than some, but safe.  We moseyed around, mainly enjoying the landscape and feeling more like we were on a trail ride.  Finally, we spotted some cattle.
We took them to the pens and since there was still daylight, we worked them. 
Got to the Bed and Breakfast around dusk, ate, showered, and went to bed after ten, or was it eleven?  It was another late night.
     

 

Day 2: we got up at 4:30 AM and repeated the day until we got in the pickup.  We drove to the pasture, stopped, and mounted the horses.  Because of the terrain, we couldn't drive to the pens; we had to ride the horses. 
The 1 1/2 mile + ride was pretty.  The cliffs rose high before us.  There were a few old sheep herders' huts made from rocks.  We also saw a rock fence.  The history those hills hold would be amazing to know about.  To think at one time there were Indians in them!  Or sheep and their herder.  It's amazing.
After sighting the pens, we had to then find the cattle.  We rode on.
We found the cattle and worked them. 
When through, we went to the house and ate.  We had to be back for church the next morning, so said our good byes, thank yous, and drove home.

At home, we sat in our yard and watched surrounding firework shows.  And got to bed late...again.  : )
 

Monster Mash

Happy Thursday everyone!

This week's star is Big J.'s cat, Rosemarie.  I started calling her Monster--to Big J.'s displeasure--a long time ago.  Thus, she's become Monster Mash.  She's a sweetie.   : )

Friend's Rodeo Pictures

Last Saturday Mom and I went to my friend's rodeo. 
We missed her first run in barrels by just a few minutes, and were disappointed since she won 1st!  But, we got to hang out with her and her family and get a taste of rodeo life. 

After a while her two nieces ran barrels and we watched.
Then we ate sandwiches, talked, sweated, and watched the nieces practice dismounting for goat tying.
A little later, my friend was up for poles.  Sadly, she got a no time.  We headed home after watching some goat tying.  

And I had my camera, so here's this week's photo(s).  Enjoy.  : )