Friday, June 29, 2007

Saddle Up

I'm not exactly what one would call a country girl. I don't like twangy music, don't own a truck, and have only ridden horses on those guided sort of tours where the horse just follows the one in front of it down a paved path. I think cowboy boots and large belt buckels look terribly uncomfortable, and what with those icky tight pants, I don't understand why cowboys think they have the corner on the Patriotic Man market.

Which is probably why I felt just a tad out of place at last night's Lehi Roundup. Turns out it's a family tradition on the hubby's side. I had managed to avoid it until now, but last night was my initiation.


This is an actual photo from the Lehi Roundup. I didn't take it as our camera is stuck in a box somewhere in what is left of our front room, so I snagged this one and the one below from the Lehi City webpage. I have a hard time understanding why an adult would voluteer for what must be horrid next-day whiplash, but then, I'm not really a rodeo sort of gal.

I'm not one of those nutty animal rights activist types-- I eat meat and I'm pretty sure I would wear leather if I could afford it, (and as long as it didn't have those bouncy tassle things on all of the seams), but a rodeo always seemed to be a needlessly cruel activity targeting innocent cattle. Expert on bovine activity I'm not, but I don't think they often buck around violently in the fields without some provocation.


Those around me at last night's rodeo learned of my sympathies for the poor fourlegged creatures when I insisted on cheering for the little steers who managed to avoid being roped. I also encouraged the one bull who stopped bucking mid-ride to hurry up and jump; after all, I can't imagine there's much of a market for non-bucking bulls on the rodeo circuit, and he's not exactly petting zoo material. Keep bucking, pal, I don't think they'll give you much of a pension.



The moment I really knew I was out of my element is represented below.


These lovely young ladies represent the Rodeo Royalty for the 2007 Lehi Roundup. They possess many, many talents that I don't-- most notably, wearing lots of sequins with style and flair.

I didn't even giggle at the sparkly chaps.

But then, that's because my intuitive husband began squeezing my hand in warning as soon as he saw the big hair.

Favorite quote of the night: "And now, ladies n' gentlemen, we have for you a real live, purebred Mexican fighting bull! That's right, a purebred Mexican fighting bull! This thing was born and bred straight out of Sao Paulo, Brazil..."

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

MOVING DAY!

Our apartment is in a state of disarray hitherto unseen by human eyes. Close your eyes, and imagine that a tornado has struck the D.I. Cram the wreckage into a 600 sq. foot space. That is the squalor we are living in now. But it's totally worth it!

We're moving!

We have closed on our condo and should be moving this week. We are thrilled to be escaping (mostly) unscathed from our humble abode in South Salt Lake. Luckily, the memories will stay with us always...

Paddy has translated at 2 a.m. for the paramedics. We've had a couple of stolen vehicles and a rickety camping trailer towed from our parking lot where, I can only assume, they were left to die. We've conquered a 9 foot high mountain of carpet padding, evicted a smoker who set his apartment on fire, recovered furniture and large electronics from the bushes, and endured at least one mailbox break-in. Oh, and we will forever look back on the teenagers hot boxing in the laundry room and the flood in our living room with fondness. We are a little bruised, but none the worse for the wear.

City of South Salt Lake, with your parking lot barbeques, we bid thee farewell.

It's Taylorsville or bust.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Our blogger debut

After steadfastly refusing to join the MySpace revolution, I somehow found myself adrift in the vast sea of the world wide web-- perhaps the only young person left without even a Facebook page to call my own. Until now.

Welcome to our brand new blog!

I hestitate for only one reason: I fear that no one will care. I'll have all this fun creating a virtual scrapbook (since I'm terrible at the paper-and-sticker variety) and no one will read it. Here's hoping I have some friends, somewhere.