All About That Bass…..

So I decided I should update exactly how my yearly intentions have changed my life.  A couple years back I made the intention that I would have a Year of Awesome.  It was a pretty brave statement.  I was coming out of my second failed marriage.  I had two children and a mountain of debt.    I was starting from scratch.  Again.  So what the fuck was The Year of Awesome going to be?  But I was determined, I was going to have a great year and no matter what my circumstance I was going to embrace it.   Within WEEKS of making the intention, I met my Cowboy.  Literally weeks after I sat down and said “i’m going have a year filled with awesome experiences, people and just plain fun.  I am no longer going to settle for bullshit and stupid and men who don’t think I’m amazing.” I met my sweetheart in the rows of the local Wal-mart store.

This guy right here?  Yes I would consider that hitting it out of the ball park.

Photo on 2014-12-16 at 7.01 PM #2

Photo on 2014-12-16 at 7.00 PM #5


Fast forward a year and it’s time to make my intention for the year.  I decide that I’m FINALLY going to make my outside match my inside. So I set 2014 to be the Year of Style!  So I set about buying a whole new wardrobe.  I started REALLY looking at how people dress.  I started finding my own style gurus and then I copied them.  After a few months I started to gain some confidence.  I started to really find what MY style was and how to buy clothes that work for me.

And guess what?  A funny thing happens….as the year progresses those silly little frocks I’m buying for myself change how I feel about myself.  I stop focussing on my tummy and how fat my ass is.  I stop caring about the number on the scale and started a serious shopping addiction to Modcloth.   I start buying ridiculously bright clothes and silly little cat print dresses.  I start saying things like “oh my god I love that blue dress, I need some yellow tights to go with it” and “you know what this occasion calls for?  a JUMPSUIT!”  I also start getting stopped in the street and told how amazing I look.  A normal trip to the local IGA has at least one or two people saying “oh my god I love your dress”.  I start getting refered to as “that black chick with the amazing clothes” when people are trying to find out who I am.   I am known in my little town because I look so fucking gorgeous when I leave my house.  Every time.  No seriously…even if I’m just running to get gas,  I do it in style.  Even my wellies are stylish.


And then I realized that there was a hill left to climb.  I can be this person loving myself in adorable clothes but I had one other thing that really wanted to do. I wanted a professional.   I wanted to lay on a bed and roll around while someone said “that’s it, perfect!  YES!  MORE MORE MORE!  You look gorgeous!”.   I mean to be fair that’s pretty much what Cowboy says every night  (sometimes TWICE or THREE times a night) but I wanted a second opinion.  I wanted someone who didn’t have a vested interested to see me half naked and tell me that yes, I am enough.   So I called.  Ha!  Wait.   That makes it sound easy.  It wasn’t.  I was scared as hell but I knew that I could no longer run from who I am.   I was going to conquer this fear.  I was going to wear very little clothes and let someone take pictures of me.  And on top of all that, I was going to LIKE IT.  I could be scared, NO, I could be terrified but it wasn’t going to stop me.   I wish I could tell you of some exhaustive search but I already knew who I was going to trust.  Months ago I had ‘met’ (virtually on facebook) a lady named Star.  I adored her immediately and I knew from looking at her work that I could trust her.  I was right.  If you happen to be in Alberta, anywhere between Red Deer and Edmonton then you NEED to spend some time with Star.  Bouncing on a bed while she tells you how fantastic you look.  Using her camera as a way to show you that you are enough.   Trust me, you want a professional and Acts of Beauty is exactly that…..The thing that stuck out in my head was when she said “you don’t worry about what YOU perceive as your ‘trouble’ areas…just BE and I’ll do the rest”.  And oh let me tell you, she did.  I did this photo shoot for me.  And then because I have been so fortunate to meet a man who loves me and sees me as the most beautiful woman he has the pleasure of loving I gave this gift to him.

Today is his 50th birthday.    He loves me completely.  I am the most loved I have ever been.  And for his birthday he received a book of the most intimate, beautiful, real pictures of me that have ever been taken.







That is all I can show to the world.  Although now that Cowboy has the album I’m pretty sure every trucker between here and Texas is going to get “Wanna see something? THIS is MY woman” as he thrusts his new album at them.   So, that is me.  That is me at 45 years old.  That is me LOVING myself.  Yes.  He IS a very lucky man.  And yes, he knows it.


Awesomeness in a wonton package!

Every so often I get a craving.  It is all consuming and it is will not go away until satisfied.  Every once in awhile,  I NEED wonton soup.  But the problem with needing wonton soup is that I can never find GOOD wonton soup.  So awhile back I decided that I’m going learn how to make my own.  So today was a day for wonton soup.  A beautiful autumn day with falling leaves and a quiet house.  Perfect.

So making wontons is ridiculously easy.  Mix it all together and make wontons.   I kid you not.

Here is the recipe as I’ve tweaked it over the times I’ve made it.

1 12 oz package wonton wrappers
1 cup ground pork
20 (or so)  shrimp raw  (10 chopped & 10 for soup)
6 cups chicken stock/broth
1 bunch green onions (1/2 sliced, 1/2 left in longer pieces)
3 bunches baby bok choy (chopped loosely) If I don’t have baby I’ll use regular
1 tbsp fresh ginger – minced
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tbsp brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce or so
a few shakes of fish sauce
1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
10 mushrooms, sliced



Chop shrimp very finely (save about 10 whole shrimp to add to soup), and add ground pork, the small sliced green onions (I like to add long chopped pieces to the actual soup at the end), brown sugar, ginger, rice wine vinegar, and 1 tablespoon of soy sauce & the rice wine vinegar & fish sauce.  Mix it all together.


Next up making the wontons!  This picture is pretty self explanatory.  If you wet the sides the wontons stick into awesome shaped packets of goodness!IMG-20141012-WA0007

Next up put the chicken stock into a huge pot.  Bring to a boil.  Add the whole shrimp, green onions, mushrooms and any other bits and bobs you want in your soup.  Add in soy sauce & a few shakes of sesame oil.  Reduce to medium.  I add the baby bok choy here but I have also done it where you add it at the end to keep it crispier.

Add the wontons to the broth continue to cook soup to a for approx 7 to 8 minutes.  Shrimp will turn pink.




Because making the wontons is a long (albeit easy) process I have started making double the recipe and freezing the wontons for quick and easy soup.  Make sure to freeze them on a cookie sheet over night NOT touching each other and then throw them into a ziploc freezer bag.  When you want to use them, defrost on a cookie sheet ( again not touching each other) and then drop into soup and enjoy.  If you don’t freeze them on a cookie sheet first they will freeze in a big blob and you won’t be able to use them.

Serious awesome goodness.  The downside is you will never be able to truly enjoy restaurant wonton soup ever again.  Sorry.


My kids are just fine, thank you very much….

Okay I get that everyone has the ‘right’ to raise their children as they see fit.  I also get that not everyone agrees on every issue.  I also understand that there are different methods that work AND there are different methods that do NOT work.  But here’s the thing. you will never convince me that physical violence against children ‘works’.  I understand that people do not believe that “a little tap on the bum’ isn’t the same as whacking your kids with a belt but I’m sick and tired of people defending physically hurting someone with little to no power to defend themselves under the guise of discipline.  The only people who win in that fight are the over tired, over strained parent.   Do I really believe that a little tap on the fingers will forever damage a child?  No.  I just think it’s wrong.  I think it’s the wrong message to send to a child that if you are bigger and in charge you can do what you want to another human being physically.   Do you really want to teach your daughters that if someone is bigger they get to hit you?  Do you really want to teach your sons that if you don’t get your way just hit someone?  If a man said “I told my wife over and over NOT to burn my toast, and she just keeps doing it so I smacked her.  I mean it wasn’t hard, just enough so she knows I mean business”.  Dear lord we would go INSANE.  But say the same thing about little Johnny and his inability to listen and it’s a-ok.  WHY?  Is Johnny less of a person than the MOM?  Well to be fair, that was exactly what men said about their wives just a couple of generations ago….

And no matter how many times I hear someone casually mention how they ‘spank’ their kids, it still hurts my heart.  Not for them really, cause I’m sure they think they are doing the right thing…but for the loss of what could have been.  I picture a little toddler staring up at the mother who kisses his booboos, terrified of her hand coming down and hitting his leg.  Not understanding WHY?  Why is my mommy hurting me.  It pains me for the girl who is already struggling to fit in with her friends coming home to the place she’s supposed to feel safe and getting slapped for ‘talking back’.  I just don’t get the logic.  I’ve never wanted my kids to fear me.  I’ve always thought that we are partners in this life.  I’m here to guide them into adulthood.  It’s my honor to do so.  I’m the one with the life experience, I’m the adult.  So it’s up to me to model the behaviour I want them to follow.  I don’t want them to be subjected to bullies on the playground, so why would I be a bully at home.  The definition of bully….

noun – a person who uses strength or power to harm or intimidate those who are weaker.

verb – use superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.

As SOON as I start talking about not hitting my kids someone always brings up that kids who aren’t ‘spanked’ have no discipline.  I have THREE wonderful kids.  They have never been hit in their lives.  They also have a very strict mother.  I have high standards that I expect my children to live up to….and they do.  Every day.   Do my kids back talk?  Of course they do…they are learning to stand their ground.  They are learning to negotiate for what they want.  They are learning when things don’t go their way they need to voice their displeasure at the situation.  They are also learning that the MUST do that in a respectful manner.  If they chose to be disrespectful to me, the conversation is over.  That I’m not willing to engage in conversations that aren’t mutually respectful.  I don’t talk over them, and they don’t talk over me.  If I haven’t listened to them, they will point that out to me, and because I believe that neither of us is “above” the other, if they are right in a disagreement, I tell them that.  If I’ve messed up, I will apologize, and I expect the same in return.    And there are punishments for repeat behaviours.  My middle kid would HAPPILY inform you of the many varied and horrible punishments that she has had to endure.  Granted they were mutually agreed upon prior and SHE is usually the one to come up with them…but whatevs.  My kids are sweet, intelligent, witty people who can be annoying little shits.  I get frustrated with them just like every body does.  There have been times when I wanted to just haul off and hit one or more of them but I don’t. Just like I don’t hit my boss when he says something I don’t like or I don’t backhand my mother for a snarky comment.  Cause you know….it’s NOT what a mature, respectful ADULT does.

I just wish that more people were open to the idea that the little life that you are lucky enough to be guiding to adulthood is able to get there without the constant threat that if you mess up, you get smacked.  I mean you might get the reasoned explanation but you know…you’ll still get smacked.  Don’t worry, they have a great reason why they are hitting you, and most times THEY were hit too so you know, that has to be reason enough for it to be okay.  Sigh.


I’ve got a great set of cans…..

How long did I sit here TRYING to come up with a double entendre for the whole ‘canning’ thing?  Way too long.

I don’t know what YOU do on an rainy Saturday morning but for me and my new addiction today was a perfect day to try out a new canning recipe I saw.


Honesty abounds I started with thinking I would make Wine Jelly but I REALLY want to use Merlot and I don’t have any in the house.  Stop laughing, I really don’t.  I have Cab Sav, Pinot Norir,  Apothic Red,  Shiraz,  Malbec,  hell I even have a pinto grigio in case weirdos drop in and like white wine (shudder)….but no Merlot.  And the recommendation for the best tasting wine jelly is to use Merlot.  So I made Root beer jelly instead.

There are only three ingredients.

Root beer (or any other soda)


Liquid Pectin (must be liquid or it won’t set)



There is stirring…lots of stirring and standing and watching so it doesn’t burn.20140726_085015

I’m a 50’s housewife. Look at my apron.  God I’m adorable. Yes I realize I’m probably the only person under the age of 75 that still wears an apron.20140726_085227



Finished product.  Sitting quietly for 24 hours to set.  20140726_092852

I KNOW that I’m not the typical 40-ish year old but I really LOVE all the ‘home arts’.  Canning and cooking from scratch, baking and sewing and knitting. But with the advent of Pinterest and the internet I have found that there are more people out there doing this stuff than I ever imagined.  Thankfully I have the sweetest Cowboy who appreciates all the things.  He’s even building me a pantry so that I have space to hold all the Canning and preserving that I do.  Of course, everyone else makes fun of me….but I’m starting the mango salsa, red pepper garlic jelly, beets and pickles soon so those comments will turn to “Can I have some?” pretty quickly….

I used a recipe that I found at From the Garden Table she also has the Wine Jelly recipe on her site.  Please go over and show her some bloggy love if you’re going to use her recipe!


The Fern Lady lives here….

The learning curve with gardening has been remarkable easy.  Okay wait.  That is a total lie.  For the last twenty five odd years since I have moved out of my mothers house I have killed every house plant within a 5 block radius.  It started with a fern in 1989 and it just went downhill from there.  I don’t have a hot fucking clue what I’m doing when it comes to plants.  It usually goes something like this….oh my god look at the gorgeous fern!  I’m totally going to take it home, it would look so nice in the living room.  THIS time I will totally remember it exists and water it and it will grow and I’ll take little off shoots and give them to my friends and I will be known as  The Fern Lady!   The demise of the fern usually starts off slowly. First I’m just picking up a couple of stray fronds that fall onto the carpet.   Then the vacuum comes out because there are fern remnants under the couch cushions.  Then a few weeks pass and I think, damn I don’t remember the last time I watered that thing.  Eventually there is a sad couple of brownish fronds in a large planter just hanging in the corner of my living room waving at me as I walk by  seemingly  begging to be put in the garbage so it can die with a last little bit of  dignity.  That is my life with plants.  Until now.

My potatoes are growing like crazy.  I have them all over the yard.  This big bin that Cowboy misappropriated is filled with banana fingerlings and is going gangbusters.


One of the bins that I have potatoes in is also going nuts.  Something tells me tere is going to be a LOT of potatoes in the pantry this winter!  Potato soup anyone?




As stated before and proven by many a fern I haven’t grown anything successfully before so these pumpkins are a huge deal for me.  I mean PUMPKINS?  Come ON!



I also have a Penis pepper.  I’ve lost the tag saying what kind this is and since there is just one growing and it looks like, well a penis, that it’s new name.



I cut down about a quarter of my rhubarb plant this morning.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to have WAY too much again this year but since Cowboy is in the pie making mood lately I’m getting some ready for when he gets home.





Here is today’s haul.  I’ll be pulling and cutting the rest of it by the weekend.  I will have some VERY happy friends.


The Fern Lady has finally found her niche.


Breaking up is hard to do…

First let me say I never foresee me having to break up ever again in my entire life.  I’m set.  I’m good.  I have the best partner/mate/boyfriend for me EVER.  I’m beyond happy.  But the happier I am in this relationship the more I realize what crap I had before.   Not just as an adult but seriously my entire dating life has been a train wreck.  I had no idea.  I thought everyone had mostly crappy relationships with just glimmers of good times.  Until now.

Now I have this dude….and my life is peachy keen.


But all my life I’ve given the same advice to many many girlfriends.  I gave it again today.  One friend has even requested that I do a blog post so she can direct people to it and not have to tell the story over and over.  (here it is MEL) The story is about sour milk.  Now we all have that one friend (or more than one) who has an on again/off again relationship with some twit.  I mean maybe the person is not a twit but for whatever reason the relationship doesn’t work. But they keep trying.  They have a million reasons to keep trying and apparently being happy and living a fulfilling life with a partner in peace isn’t one of them.

So this is what I believe about getting back together with an ex.  An ex is like when you find milk in the fridge and the best before date has passed.  The milk looks like it’s still okay but then you sniff it and realize it’s gone bad.  What do you do with sour milk?  You throw it away!  You don’t put the milk BACK in the fridge and wait for a few days ( or weeks or months) and then pull it back out and see if it’s somehow gotten better.  You don’t need to re-sniff that milk.  We all know that once milk has soured, it’s soured for good.  The REAL stubborn amongst us will pull it out and think ‘yippee! it’s yogurt!’  It’s not yogurt.  It’s a solid mass of spoiled milk.  Do not taste it to check.  Just trust me.  It’s bad.  Throw it out.

Why do we insist on beating a dead horse. *wait quick aside where the hell does this saying come from?  it’s weird…and cruel…and stupid*  What is it that makes us want relationships that are clearly not working?  I think it’s the fear that there isn’t something better out there. That maybe what we have is all we are deserving to have or is “good enough”.  That being with someone who isn’t the best for us is better than being alone. And that deep dark feeling that this is all there is.  Well over the course of the last few years I’ve learned some good lessons.  I’ve been exposed to some amazing relationships.  I’ve met people who have the type of relationship I’ve always wanted.  I’ve come to a huge conclusion….a lot of us tell ourselves little untruths.  We say things like ‘well i love him and he is really trying’…NO he’s not.  If he WAS trying he would be succeeding.  If you are in a relationship with someone who isn’t treating you the way you deserve to be treated it’s because they aren’t trying.  They don’t need to because you’ve already shown them that you’ll accept less.   Trust me when a man is trying there is NO mistake that he is trying.  There is no guess work.  If a man wants something he will climb every mountain, forge every sea, follow every rainbow until he….wait, I just broke into the Sound of Music.  Sorry, its a habit.  We say things like “it’s just the situation, when he gets a new job/house/boss/car it’ll be better”.  No it won’t.  Let me tell you a story….a few months ago my car died.  Like a horrible death of a major part that was going to cost a LOT of money to fix.  As in the transmission on a 4 wheel drive SUV expensive.  When I phoned to tell my Cowboy about what happened he said ‘it’s a machine, machines break’.  The moral of this story is outside stress should not affect how your partner treats you.  If it does, there’s a problem.  Because no matter what is happening your partner should be treating you with respect. If they aren’t…here’s a newsflash…they don’t respect you.  Is that too harsh?  Whatever, it’s the truth.

So the next time there is a friend who keeps going back over and over to the same bad relationship tell them about the sour milk.   Everyone knows what sour milk smells like…a few of us stubborn types even know what sour milk tastes like.  And some of the VERY stubborn among us know that no matter how long you leave sour milk and how many times you taste it there is nothing that will make it taste good ever again.  No,  it’s not yogurt.  It’s a solid mass of sour milk.  Throw it away.

Me versus Nature…

I think I’ll just talk about my garden to everyone and do nothing else but watch peas grow.  So far there are things that are dying and things that are growing.   More on the things that are growing later but first….I have an intruder.  There is the cutest little vermin that has infiltrated my precious garden.  And the worst part is, it took me DAYS to realize how much of a threat he was going to be.  For the first few days I kept trying to get a picture of the little cutie!  I was saying to the kids “oh LOOK a bunny”.  It never dawned on me that I should be terrified.  I mean come on, it wasn’t a “He’s got TEETH!” moments.  Extra points to anyone who gets THAT reference….clearly I was a high school geek.  Then after about day three or four of Mr. Bunny’s antics I went out to check on my beautiful new strawberry plants that were blooming and had some actual strawberries growing and what do I find?  Nubs.  As in completely decimated strawberry nubs.  That little shit had eaten it all.  I was sooooo pissed.  You know, in a completely irrational way.  We live TWO blocks from the river.  On Christmas morning we watched as about a half dozen deer walked across the school parking lot directly across from our house.  I totally understand that we live in what is essential a nature reserve, but it didn’t even DAWN on me that perhaps there would be a downside to that….bunnies like to eat exactly what I want to plant.

So for the next few days until Cowboy got home I spent every morning and evening (dusk and dawn is when bunnies hang out apparently) running around chasing a rabbit in a robe with crocs on my feet and a broom. I’m pretty sure I could hear the rabbit actually snickering from underneath my front hedge.  Did I mention I live across the street from my children’s school.  As I tell my kids, we don’t save for retirement in this family, we save for therapy.  I even had one night when a lady from a few blocks away came by to see if the rabbit was her long escaped family pet.  It wasn’t, but she did try to help me…that night I wasn’t wearing a robe, I was fully dressed however, we were chasing a rabbit round the yard with a laundry basket and a blanket.  I have NO idea why my kids just shake their heads and roll their eyes so much.

So finally Cowboy came home after a ridiculously long time on the road and  BOOM now I have a chicken wire fence thingie to keep Bugs out of my damn plants.  I also have a new potato bin that we clandestinely misappropriated from a shop in Nisku and a new rain barrel!  That Cowboy, he gets shit done.

On to the grow…here is the main part of the garden, completely planted.  The first bed on the left has spinach, swiss chard, beets and peas!  The second larger bed has shallots, onions, radishes, lettuce, garlic chives & basil.  The containers are filled with different squashes, pumpkins and cucumbers.  There are bins of potatoes and strawberries everywhere.


Here’s a closer view of the peas with their chicken wire supports.  I have never been so thrilled over a plant in my life.  Mainly because I’ve never grown anything successfully and this is all coming together.


Here is the shipping carton/potato bin.  I hope that this fall it will be filled with banana fingerling potato goodness.  Also Cowboy has no idea what fingerling potatoes are,  I’m pretty sure he thinks I made the name up.

Also you can kind of see the rain barrel in the corner.  You know what the rain barrel has taught me?  There is a LOT of damn water falling off the house from not a very long rain storm.  If you don’t have you drain spouts away from your house there is serious water damage happening to your foundation.  One storm for 5 minutes equals a full rain barrel.  I mean I KNEW about the whole drain spout thing but this seriously confirmed it.


I’m off to go watch my peas grow…and fondle my new strawberries….and look for evidence of that wascally wabbit.   Hopefully the fence works because if this sucker comes back I’m pretty sure that my beloved is going to make it into rabbit stew.  So I’m armed with a broom and wearing my robe, I can hear the school buses out front….the kids won’t be embarrassed will they?



One year later….

So last year we bought  a house.  It was very exciting and it meant the world to me. Cowboy and I have a long list of things we would like to do to the house to make it all ours.  Luckily we have the same taste (sort of) and we both believe in adding value to our home while also making it liveable for US.  So the first order of business was WINDOWS!  Now I know there are a lot of women out there who get excited over diamonds and jewelry and I trust me I think those things are nice BUT nothing gets me giddy like saving money.   After this very cold winter with some pretty high gas bills these windows are the bomb!  Here is a side by side comparison.  The new windows brighten up the whole front of the house!



Here is the window into the mud/laundry room.  It’s also the perfect window for growing seeds for my garden.  I started a lot from seed this year, but it’s NOTHING compared to what is going to go down next year.


This is the daughters new window.  She will be able to get out in case of fire as we made sure it was to code.  We also made sure it’s fitted with an alarm…so you know, in case she gets any other ideas…


The house has a whole face lift!  It looks amazing.  Cowboy is going to flip when he gets home.  Our beautiful house is even more beautiful.



Dude.  I have NO idea how to garden…like NONE.  So this is all new to me.  I’m VERY good at killing plants, not so good at growing them.   But this year I’m determined to have not only flowers but veggies TOO!

I have a love/hate relationship with petunias.  I see them at the green house and buy them and half way through the summer, they are dead.  It’s a combination of forgetting to deadhead them, forgetting to water them and the fact that I’m a shit gardener.  Oh and apparently because I don’t fertilize them!  Who the hell knew that?  Apparently Nicole.  While at the greenhouse she encouraged me to try again saying she will come by and help me if I screw it up.  and then I saw BLACK PETUNIAS!!!  Sold.




My beautiful rhurbarb plant.  As least I know there is NOTHING I can do to fuck this one up.20140522_093635

That bin?  Yeah, it’s potatoes.  I totally wanted Cowboy to build me a 4X4 potato garden but he has had a shit month and hasn’t been home!  I miss him horribly but I also figured out a quick fix.  The banana fingerlings HAD to go in the ground so I hauled out some tubs.  Lets see how this works out.



The year of the squash is ON.   I have squash EVERYWHERE in the yard.  In containers.  Come fall there will be butternut, acorn, spaghetti.  Every kind of squash you can imagine.  Also next year I’m going to have to figure out how the hell to label shit.  Cause I don’t have a clue what I did.

20140522_09362520140522_093613I look forward to a beautiful garden this year.  I have the time to do it, I have friends to help.

Happy Houserversay BABY!

Love you!


Date day…with some Cowboy…

So what’s a perfect Saturday?  Driving through the backroads of Alberta finding garage sales, country and antique stores.

We found so many treasures.  We love decorating our house in a style we both love and lucky it’s very similar.

There was a stop at a cute little barn conversion that is a antique store where we found an old milk can, a set of gorgeous dishes for everyday, some pyrex, a quilt rack, an antique laundry clothes hanger and some other bits and bobs.

Remember when I said I wanted a set of dishes that were stoneware or something that but that we could use everyday.  BOOM.


When the pantry is done we will have a crazy big mudroom/laundry room so we picked up this vintage clothes line to use in the room.  How cool is this?


Then we went to the Carvel General store where I found this sign.

It’s a repo and totally modern but I LOVE IT and I had to have it.  It’s already hanging in my kitchen.  We also got a cute set of his/hers hooks for our robes in our bedroom.


No kids today but we took our sweet Molly with us.  She was very happy to have Cowboy home.


Then at the end of the day we stopped at the Warburg Hutterite colony to buy a big ass slab of bacon.  It’s a crazy good deal because you can cut the bacon as thick as you want it and its the BEST bacon out there.  I really don’t know why people don’t eat local more.  There are producer putting out fantastic local product if you just take the time to look for it.  Sure you can buy crappy bacon cheaper at Walmart, but WHY would you want to.   THIS is what I want to feed my family.  Where i know who raised it, who killed it, what it ate.   It’s important to me to feed my family like this….I think more people should be doing it.  Plus Cowboy was home and he can cut it perfectly….





Mawwiage. Mawwiage is what bwings us togethew….

Here’s the story.    So I got married very young.  I mean I wasn’t a teenager but I was 20.  I married and had a baby and divorced all by the time I was 26.  It wasn’t a good marriage but it produced a super kid.  I chalked it up to being young and easily impressed by an older guy.  He had ‘lived’ I thought and I very quickly fell in love.  After we were married we moved to the States and it very quickly went south.  When I left him shortly after my 25th birthday I swore off marriage.  I thought that there was no way I would hitch myself to that star ever again.  I didn’t think it made sense to have to listen to what another human being said for the rest of my life.  It seemed tedious.  It seemed like work.  I was way too independent to get married again.  I bought a place, dated a few guys got a hell of a good job and just lived.  Then a funny thing happened.  I got lonely.  I mean legit lonely.  I wanted a companion.   But here’s the thing.  I decided that I wanted a friend.  I decided that the ‘roller coaster’ of relationships wasn’t for me.  I wanted to really like my spouse but that the passion part of it wasn’t long lasting so if that wasn’t exactly there I was okay with that.   I wanted someone who I KNEW without a shadow of a doubt would remain faithful to me and would never be abusive.  I wanted someone whose fidelity I would never question.  So I started online dating.  I met someone and it didn’t really ‘click’.  I didn’t hear from him for a month after our first meeting but then out of the blue one day he contacted me.  I should mention that I didn’t quite get the hint after our first meeting so I eventually blocked him so I wouldn’t email him… hearing from him was quite a shock.  But I was flattered that a month later he would be interested in dating me.    I must have made quite the impression!  Yeah I get NOW that I should have thought ‘dude you missed your chance, fuck off’ but I didn’t.    anyway, long story longer we started dating.   Looking back now he was the poster child for “He’s Just Not That Into You” but I didn’t care.   He was simply not interested in me and never had the balls to admit it.  So instead he cheated and lied and lived a double life.  This double life that he blames me for.  If I’m honest I blame myself for it to.  Not because i made him cheat but because I was willing to settle for so little.  That I cared so little for myself that a man like him could be allowed to spend time with me.  I blame myself for that.

So then comes a second divorce.  Sigh.  How did I end up twice divorced and alone at 41?  I mean come ON!  But that is the past.  Now I have the life I never even thought was possible.  Now I have the relationship that I didn’t believe existed.  Well I knew good relationships existed I just never thought there would be one for me.  But that was before I met Cowboy.  Aw my beautiful Cowboy.  Now lets be real.  He’s FAR from perfect.  He’s stubborn and old fashioned.  He is particular and a neat freak.  He is the worst person to try to compromise with….there is no grey with Cowboy.  Black or White.  That’s it.  BUT he loves me.  I mean completely.  He loves my curves.  He loves my brain.  He loves how I mother and he loves how I treat him.  He is the most compassionate and caring man I know.  He would take the shirt of his back and not complain of the cold.  So I should marry him, right?  I mean he asks at least once a week.


Not happening.

People wonder why, I mean I FINALLY found my forever man I should be dying to get married to him to spend the rest of my life with him.  yeah, no thanks.  I am committed to my Cowboy in a way I have never been committed before.  He is the love of my life and I can’t imagine my tomorrows without him.  He’s BETTER than a husband to me.  Weird right?  What I mean is that the men in my life who I’ve given that title have used and abused me.  They have treated me like shit and left me a shell of my prior self.  I’ve fought long and hard to be me again.  And in that fight I found the love I want to spend the rest of my life with…it amazing.   But husband?  No.  He is more to me than that.  He is my partner, spouse, lover, best friend.   He makes my toes curl and makes me catch my breathe.  I will spend the rest of my days being so grateful for the opportunity to finally know what all the love songs on the radio are about.

And I’ve finally figured out me.  I know what I want and what I need and the importance of being “married” isn’t at all on my radar.  I’m not going to go all Halle Berry and declare on Oprah that I’ll never marry again, them get married and have to eat crow. Oooo howeer Halle’s on her third marriage,  that could be just another thing we have in common. I mean besides being drop dead gorgeous black women.  I’m going to quietly live my life…kind of like Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell or Oprah and Steadman or George Clooney and his waitress girlfriend of the week.  Oh wait, DAMMIT George now I have to take you off the list.  After all these years of “I’m not getting married, I tried it, it didn’t work” now suddenly he’s engaged.  Sigh.  Okay I’m all John Corbett and Bo Derek.  I know, random I just can’t think of anyone else long term and I’ll be damned if I put Kourtney Kardashian and Scott Disick up in here!

Just a brief aside, my home page is  I realize that there are real life examples of non married but happy long term couples but my frame of reference is the pages of Us Magazine.  I also realize that there a millions of happily married couples and that it works for a LOT of people this is just about me, were I am and what is going to work FOR ME.

I will say this I may one day go the Brad and Angelina route the forever engaged.  But that might just be me wanting to wear the big ass ring without having to actually sign the piece of paper.  And I doubt very much that’ll happen because there is NO WAY my cowboy is going to shell out that kind of cash and not get to say “my wife”.  So I guess there’s my answer.  We’ll just stay happily living in sin for the foreseeable future.   Or until one of us breaks….because we are both known to be sooo flexible.  Not stubborn at all!  I’m sure one of us will get our way before too long.  If by too long you mean never.    Besides if I marry him I’m going to have to tell people his real name and that is no fun at all.