Someone new commented on my blog. I find this so amazing because my life is very simple. Who would read my blog except those who know me? Tom asked if I liked it here. I assume he meant Oklahoma, ranch life, the new house...You know, I do like it here. When we moved from NM eight years ago, people thought we were crazy to leave the beautiful mountain resort town that we lived in. I do love the mountains - they will always be home, but there are lots of problems in NM that visitors just don't see. Oklahoma is a beautiful place too, although it is a different beauty. The people and my church home make this an even more wonderful place. Being closer to family is a good thing. When we first moved here, we bought a very nice, top of the line manufactured home. It was already decorated with carpet and matching curtains. It was really nice and comfortable. One morning I opened the door of our bedroom and looked out across the kitchen/living room, and thought, "Whose house is this?" It was such an odd feeling because it was just not "my house". Then we moved to a very nice brick home with three bedrooms, a den, a living area, curtains - all very normal stuff. Once again, although it was very nice, whose house was this? Now I have my very small little house on the prarie over looking a pond. It is my home. It is me. One of my friends recently said something about the color of the bedroom saying it was very "southwestern". Now that was funny. I don't think of my house as being southwestern or any particular decor. When other people are decorating their homes in certain styles or something like "light houses" or "rabbits" (it's true - they do that), my house is just piece-meal of what I like. I would think it would be called "cowboy/ranch" or "late Mexican". I don't do "Indian". What self respecting cowgirl would?
Another comment was made by my family. Jesse and Toby said they needed to edit my work - tell the real story. Jesse said she would like to blog the story of Toby and the lock. So here it is:
While moving the large rust and farm equipment, Toby had trouble moving the cattle squeeze-shute because it was chained and locked to the fence (I could write a whole blog on men and their chains and moving large equipment). Who knew where the key to the padlock was? A friend had told him there was a trick to opening masterlocks using a handkerchief and a hammer (I kid you not). Toby called Bo to find out the secret to the trick. In the meantime, I found a handful of keys that had been hanging on the key rack for years. Toby put them in his pocket and went out with the handkerchief and hammer and Jesse. Jesse said for ten minutes he banged on the lock with the hammer. When he was frustrated and hot, he pulled out the wad of keys and stuck one in the lock, and it opened right up. Jesse laughed at him - she got a real kick out of her dad. Men and their toys!
I am headed to The City to babysit my grandbaby - such a grand thing!