I’ve been reading The Pioneer Woman quite avidly as of late, and as I read I find myself talking with a bit of Southern drawl in my voice, making breakfasts that better fit large men with huge amounts of physical labor before their next meal instead of me, and wanting a horse, some boots, and to can goods, not necessarily in that order.  Reading her blog wakes up the horse-lovin’ country girl that I used to be, although the horses I loved lived in Idaho with my papa, and the “country” did, too.  She talks about being a city girl out of her element on a working cattle ranch, and I sit behind my screen smugly grinning that I know some of the stuff she had to learn and I love horses and she didn’t for a long time and I’m good at getting up in the early morning even though my current waking hour is 7.  Seriously, can you believe how smug I am?  I can hardly stand myself.

Some part of me then wonders what it would be like if Nick and I had that sort of life.  I daydream of chaps and horses and sorting cattle and throwing hay bales (the little ones) and my dreams kind of stop there because that’s about all I have any experience with, and then I factor in Nick, Nocturnal Beast and Champion Sleep-Inner/Surly Morning Man.  Hmmm. . . I think that that lifestyle would probably not work out too well.  I wonder if he’d mind me running off to work on a cattle ranch?  I’d get a horse to be best friends with and I’d braid its mane and tail. . . .

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