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Hey Y’all

November 24, 2009 by wranglerdani

We’re in Texas. And, following a healthy obsession with holiday themes that started in young childhood, I’ve been thinking a lot about thankfulness, what I’m thankful for, and what I would write on a Thankful Note to put in the Thankful Box (a shoebox that I lovingly drew happy pilgrims and indians on as a wee tyke, yes I meant what I said about the holiday theme-love) if I still had access to one.

And, really the biggest thing for me, that I am incredibly and unbelievably thankful for, is my husband. (All you single-types who can’t bear mush can avert your eyes, I don’t mind) (But seriously, you might should keep reading and get some good tips on the kinda man you want, because honestly you won’t find better) (Enough with the parentheticals).

No really. He’s the best man for me in the best possible way. For instance, he gave me “Going Rogue” on the flight out here as an early birthday present. See? Awesomest.

Or, if you’re not impressed by that, get this: he made me go running with him early in the morning, and we RAN RIGHT BY an open and very fragrant donut shop without stopping. Now that’s power.

And then of course, there’s the little things he does that just tell me I’m his number one, and make me all blushy and soupy and gushy inside. Like when he catches my eye across the room, when he tells me I’m pretty, when he drives everywhere and lets me sleep, and when he “checks in” with me just to be sure I’m OK. When he falls asleep with his hand on my back, when his whiskery kiss is the first thing I feel in the morning. When he brings me coffee, and when he’s patient with my grouchy moments. When he is manly in the tough and reliable sense, and when he beats me at tetherball because he’s TOO TALL TO BE ANY FUN, and when he makes me laugh although I feel competitive or frowny.

I’m thankful that he’s logical and sensible, that he is willing to sacrifice to put my needs before his own, that he pursued me and won my heart with gusto, and that he never gives up without a fight. I’m thankful that he is from Texas and we both love the Lone Star State. I’m thankful that we think the same things are funny, that he’s more patient than I am, and that we balance each other so well. I’m thankful that he lets me rant about politics and has never backed away from healthy debate. I’m thankful that he gets the check, opens the door, and steps up when a handyman-type is needed. I’m thankful that my name is his, that he is mine, that we are so blessed.

 

Posted in Faith, Love, family, good day, holidays, men/women | Leave a Comment »

I am a wood-elf at heart, so that helps.

November 18, 2009 by wranglerdani

“Write without pay until somebody offers pay; if nobody offers within three years, sawing wood is what you were intended for.” Mark Twain

Posted in Creativity, the woods, writing | Leave a Comment »

“Explain one thing to me: what kind of desperate and pathetic emotional cripple would actually buy that as an ending?”

November 16, 2009 by wranglerdani

Dear Kay Jewelers,

Even I (a self-avowed emotional cripple who regularly cries at Mastercard commercials) cannot stand your grossly overstated attempts at capturing romantic depth. Please stop, because it’s getting ridiculous and sort of creepy. Guys know diamonds work, but what you fail to mention is that sleaze (and cheesy lines) even when accompanied by sparkly things, do not.

My kisses begin with everything but Kay,

Dani

(Bonus points if you can name the movie the title comes from.)

Posted in Puke of the Brain, observations | 3 Comments »

I designed a book, it’s quite good, you should read it.*

November 13, 2009 by wranglerdani

First off, it’s funny that awesomely bad tales of my ineptitude at life are my blogging “bestsellers” if comments were cash and all of you faithful readers were reviewers. (For the record, I think you should be. You seem to like my tales of neurosis, so you have great taste, obvy.)

So thanks for reading and commenting and making me feel like my daily doses of woe and befuddlement are good for at least a chuckle or two.

But now we come to the point of this post – I DESIGNED A BOOK COVER! TA-DA:

Christian Writing Anthology Cover

I’ve done a lot of business cards, website stuff, brochures and the like, but this is probably my biggest project. It’s an anthology of Christian fiction, and it’s all really well-written. If you want, you can buy it here.

*The title is an Oxford 2004 inside joke… sorry if you don’t get it, guess you shoulda’ been there. :)

Posted in Creativity, pictures | 5 Comments »

No, Internet, I’m not pregnant, not that you were any help

November 10, 2009 by wranglerdani

So I recently decided that I was pregnant. Apparently when you worry as much as I do, you make yourself sick and then assume that you’re procreating instead of just being retarded and unable to CALM THE EFF DOWN.

So I’d been thinking this for awhile, and last night decided that I absolutely had to pee on a stick right then and there, because waiting another day would absolutely not do, as it was, I really wanted a beer and what if I drank one and then hurt my unlikely child with my negligence, like those crazily out-of-touch women on “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” who carry their babies for nine months while working in bars and abusing their bodies, all so we can watch it on TLC and be terrified.

“Adam!” I hollered, as he peacefully watched Monday Night Football, hoping, I’m sure, for a night that did not involve unplanned heirs. “I’m gonna take the test!”

But when I went in the bathroom, all ready to go (literally) I found that the tests that I’d bought several months ago in a similar fit of panic were gone. This, of course, was reason to haul my poor hard-working husband off of his well-earned couch time and demand that he help me search, which ended in the shelf behind the toilet finally giving up the ghost and officially adding itself to the growing Honey-Do list, and my finding the tests in a drawer after pointless almost-tears, where I had stupidly hid them behind Adam’s shaver so that people wouldn’t see them through the clear plastic drawer and wonder if maybe we’re in love and have scares now and then. I dunno.

I finally took the test. Sat on the couch and fidgeted until three minutes were up, then held Adam’s hand as we walked into the bathroom and saw, all plain and non-chalant, NOT PREGNANT. Good thing it was spelled out, because in that state, I don’t think I could have figured out lines and dots and plus-signs, or however it used to be done.

We hugged and Adam assured me that he would love to be a baby daddy in the future, and I had a beer and calmed down.  But I realized that I’m not really all that scared of the eventual mini-me.  I realize that I worry way too much, and that I’m not nearly grateful enough, until something bad happens which makes me wish that life would go back to the normal place that I’m not normally grateful for.  I don’t know if that made sense to anybody but me, but I guess it comes down to this. When the pregnancy test isn’t hidden and the bathroom shelf doesn’t break and the Cowboys don’t lose and I’m not pregnant, I need to remember and be thankful. Because someday that won’t be the case, and I’ll need to be grateful on that day too.

Posted in Faith, Home, Love, awkward girl, moodiness, nesting | 11 Comments »

Boys and Girls

November 9, 2009 by wranglerdani

Adam loves Risk. He loves spreadsheets and rules and setting things up Just So. He loves backpacks with billions of pockets for organizational purposes and fiddling with gear of any kind in preparation for adventures.

On the other hand, he’s also an expert at draining the gas tank to the last possible minute puff of drive-able fumes, very rarely remembers what he’s looking for in the fridge, and can’t shop a sale to save his life.

I do silly, non-logical things, like pour yesterday’s coffee and grounds on top of dishes in the sink, not fold my laundry, and pack the opposite of lightly. I also get annoyed with all of the rules associated with logical games like Risk or Chess, and really am more interested in the adventure than the preparation or the pockets involved.  However, I also am a coupon-clipping champion, know exactly what he wants to eat and how to make it, and make sure that we have toilet paper and clean clothes (not folded, but clean at least) most of the time.

We balance each other. We’re both partly logical, emotional and crazy, and try to solve our disagreements with long talks and kisses instead of hollering. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty close, even when all the logical bits of him make no sense to me and all the free spirit bits of me drive him crazy.

Posted in Home, Love, men/women, nesting, observations | 4 Comments »

Nothing

November 6, 2009 by wranglerdani

Hi there boys and girls! I’m busy. What’s that? Why am I here, blabbing, when I have paid blogs to write and a NaNoWriMo project that I’m woefully behind on? Oh, well, you know, it’s easier to talk about nothing than something, hence the popularity of E! True Hollywood Story and pictures of the Obama family. So I’m here to talk about nothing, or at least, nothing of consequence.

I have to go to the barn in an hour. There I will be met with personality-filled horses and funny kids, who will hopefully enhance my day with their antics and give me something to write about besides nothing. I also really like to cook, and have decided that this Holiday season, I will be baking pies, tarts and other sundry tasties which neither my waistline needs nor Adam likes. I’m drowning in pointlessness, apparently.

I need to get back to writing about politics. Maybe then I’ll get my blood-pressure back.

Posted in Home, Puke of the Brain, holidays, horses | Leave a Comment »

Centered. (or trying to be)

November 2, 2009 by wranglerdani

I’ve always thought of myself as a strong and steady type. Someone who’s centered and sensible, rough and ready.

I don’t know where I got that idea, though, because I’m totally not. In harsh reality, I’m the girl who loses it when she loses things, who cries when her plans don’t work out, who gets so nervous that she makes her own tummy sick. I’m so far from centered sometimes, which is probably why this song has been in my head this week:

You’re the center of the universe
Everything was made in You Jesus
Breath of every living thing
Everyone was made for You

You hold everything together
You hold everything together

Christ be the center of our lives
Be the place we fix our eyes
Be the center of our lives

We lift our eyes to heaven
We wrap our lives around your life
We lift our eyes to heaven, to You

Lyrics by Charlie Hall

Posted in Faith, church, inspiration, music | 2 Comments »

On accomplishment

October 30, 2009 by wranglerdani

Remember how I was feeling all stressed and crazy and completely incapable of rational thought? Well, that last part hasn’t really changed, but the stress and the crazy is greatly diminished, BECAUSE I PASSED.

I am officially a certified Registered Therapeutic Riding Instructor through NARHA. Which is basically just a badge of honor that hollers “I’m good at my job!” Really, I’m the only one who needs a shouting badge of honor, and only when I doubt my life, as I do on a regular basis, for the purpose of making everyone who loves me crazy and myself a basket-case. But I did it. I passed one of the toughest tests I’ve ever taken (barring, of course, Comm Law or anything involving math) and am trying to enjoy basking in a well-earned moment of sunshine.

What’s interesting about accomplishment is that while it’s a big deal, it’s not that big of a deal. Really. I tend to build accomplishments into these all-encompassing Reasons to Have Value, but they’re not, really. I would still have value if I’d gone through all of this and failed, which is a hard concept for me to grasp. I’m the same girl I was before I got certified, just like I was the same girl before and after I got a college degree. I have more confidence now, more experience, but I, at my core, am unchanged in my innate, God-given value. It’s hard to balance a driven personality and a sense of unchanging worth.

I think about my kids, and how their families love them whether they are non-verbal and wheel-chair bound, or whether they are scattered little motor-mouths with sensory issues.  The kids, in turn, love our horses, giving big hugs and soft smiles to all of them, blind to which horses are better-trained, more well-bred or more beautiful. And the longer I work with them, I love them all, even the kids who make me crazy, and the horses who don’t behave in the moment I need them to.

So I am proud of myself. I’m stoked to have gotten through this, and am planning laugh with friends, eat lots of pizza and drink micro-brews tonight in celebration. But I am trying to remember that these accomplishments aren’t why I’m loved, nor what gives me value.

Posted in Faith, friendship, horses, inspiration, job angst, observations | 3 Comments »

I’m not sure what I’m saying, but it’s something about a horse and my being crazy

October 19, 2009 by wranglerdani

I have an irrational fear. I’m so afraid that I will have spent a great portion of my life and passions on something that I’m not good at and never will be. Some would be okay with that, but of course I have to make my very humanity into an identity crisis. Aren’t you glad you tuned in to this mess?

Tonight, I went riding at the ranch, and rode a horse I’ve never worked with or ridden before. He’s said to be a big teddy bear, but big is an understatement. He’s a tall, lanky, absolutely lovely Thoroughbred, but spirited enough that I was a bit nervous about trying him, especially since this is probably my last chance to practice before Big Scary Certification. I rode around the arena, did the full pattern – except the lope. I was never quite able to get Tahoe loping, as he continued to trot in a funny sideways shuffle, skitter sideways as thunder rumbled above us, and put his head down until my little cowgirl self was sure he was going to catapult me over his head in a rip-roaring buck.

I felt so embarrassed by my own fear, by my inability to take him in hand and just lope and go for it, the in that free-and-easy way that I know I used to do. I’ve always had this gnawing fear that I’ll have loved something or someone desperately – only to find, after years of devotion, that it doesn’t love me back. With Adam, he has proven to me over and over that I can’t be annoying enough to alienate him (though I’ve tried, I promise). I finally have someone whom I can love devotedly and feel the reverberations of that earth-shattering emotion without fearing that it will one day go forth and find nothing there to embrace.

But I tend to be achievement-focused, and in my life, in my doings, I am less sure. I get a casual rejection of a writing or design bid and start to wonder where my skills went. Who am I kidding? I’m not half the writer most of the Optimist staff was, and most of my designs would be mundane in the “real world”. I’m “hopelessly flawed” as Jo March said. I’m a weird mix of organized and passionate, horrible at putting clean laundry away but sincerely bugged by a messy house.

Tonight I just wanted to cry. Self-pity is a powerful thing, and it was easily overtaking me. I was sitting aboard this beautiful animal, a sunset and storm-clouds making for a perfect horizon, looking down at my awesome sport of a husband – but unable to see my blessings because I’d chosen to be shadowed by my imagined failures. It’s not that I can’t be better – more courageous or creative – but I’ve allowed myself to believe for too long that I am defined by my arbitrary successes and mistakes. Successes and mistakes that I have created out of thin air for my own misery.

I can’t really tie a pretty bow around this post and make it look like I’m OK. This is probably far too personal to be flinging out into the Interwebs anyway, but it’s late and just sort of happened. I can’t say that Jesus told me anything awesome while I was basket-casing it like a champ, or that suddenly I know longer worry or care about success. But I do know that I need to have perspective, and I know that one failed attempt at loping doesn’t forever erase me from cowgirl-dom. So, I guess that’s all I have for now. Goodnight, dear Void.

Posted in Faith, Home, Love, Puke of the Brain, Ruminations, horses, moodiness, observations, wrangler-hood, writing | 4 Comments »

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