Kick Off To The Itch

My husband and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary back in June/July and we did a ton of fun stuff to celebrate.


We did our first ever fun run!

Took the kids swimming and to a special western store that sported this awesome little trailer in the driveway!

Then of course we celebrated by going on our annual honeymoon with the baby in tow. Husband's year to plan. Food. Walking. Shopping. Exploring. The weekend did not disappoint.Thanks babe!!

Our annual photo on the drive. You can see ones from our other six years HERE and HERE

 The mansion tour was a huge highlight. It was amaze balls to say the least. We had to go separately because the boy decided he did not want to listen to the guide, but it was still awesome!!

Finished off by a tiny hike/jaunt up to amazing views with our annual hand/year photo. 

On our for reals anniversary day we picked up our favourite food at a couple restaurants and ate it at the rock we often visited while we were dating. It was super romantic and nostalgic. No photo, so you'll just have to trust how good looking we were in our fancy date night clothes.



We're pretty lucky we have each other... and Gold Bond Medicated Powder so the whole '7 year itch thing' is a non-issue.

Heaven's slice is a marriage that just keeps getting sweeter with time honey!!

The Dirt In Our Manes

Anybody's whose spent a good portion of their lives in an enclosed arena will definitely relate to that which this post is referring to.

You spend a better part of an hour or more chasing in calves, opening up shoots, warming up horses and chasing down decent shots for your loop to snare. 

You sit in stands watching how their runs play out and wait for your event to make it's show. 

You practise in quansits. 

It's the horse loving sport. The work, practise, and performance. 

And after it's all said and done and you exit it's stage with your horse in tow. 

Load him up or turn her out. It's over. 

And you eventually feel what has subtly settled onto your hair and eyelashes. 

Dirt. 

Good ol' dirt that's been kicked up and swirled about in the horse-work steam and cattle cry air. 

You can feel it's tangible texture as you touch your head and you can see it visibly on your eyelashes. 

I cherish that texture. 

It's so many childhood memories soaring through. Adolescences. 

From teenage angst. To young adulthood. To well, yesterday. 

For me that dirt hair feel brings more of a memory than a photo can convey. 

It may be an odd way of thinking. 

But it truly brings memories and more of myself into the experience than any device could try to capture. No matter how public I could make it on social media.

That dirt all tangled into my mane is a symbol of rodeo heritage for me. 

The dirt in our manes is beauty wild.

And I'm bestowing it onto her.

Heaven's slice is tangible textures that make memories linger.

He didn't have to

Looking back on my childhood in what I remember most about my Dad is that he seemed to always take me with him. Whether it was up in the big valley field to check cows, to my uncle's shop to weld, up in the field swathing, baling, to rodeos, picking up the mail, fixing fence, going to town to pick up parts...whatever it was he was doing he'd always come get me to go with him. I'm sure I slowed him down, but yet he NEVER made me feel like I did. Somehow he made me feel like I was being a big help, even if I was wondering off catching grasshoppers.



He didn't have to take me, but he did, and that's one of the things that makes him the best Dad I could ever dream of having. He loved me enough to make me a part of his world and feel wanted.

You know how they say "girls tend to marry their fathers"? 

Well let's just say it's a good thing I'm pretty fond of my Dad...

And how could I not talk about my own darling of a husband when it comes to Father's Day. Could not have picked a better Daddy for our kids. I definelty lucked out!! He's soooo loving to them and so involved in everything that has to do with them. He never shies aways from taking them with him, even our two year old (who is a  flight risk) into town solo. He's one of the biggest reasons I'm so comfortable and happy being a Mommy, because I've got him as a co-worker.


And... can I just say that there is nothing more attractive than seeing your husband fulfill his Daddy role so perfectly?

Dang he's hot.

Heaven's slice is Fathers.

You are not what happened to you

I've been thinking a lot about the well-known cowboy proverb  to

'get right back on the horse that bucked you off.' 

Since growing up on a ranch and coming from a rodeo family this saying had only a literal meaning to me when I was younger. I was gently forced at times against my will to get back on the horse that I got knocked off of, not tomorrow, not next week, but as soon as my wind was back inside me for a for a few minutes. It taught the horse and myself to basically work together and get better.

I do realize the much deeper side to it now of course, and am so fond of the deeper meaning that I thought I'd do a little post on it ;) 

You are not what happened to you.

We have to get back on the horse that bucked us off because if we don't we're basically saying to others, and more importantly to ourselves: I'm the one that got bucked off that horse. You are defining yourself by a moment in time, a moment of failure, hurt, embarrassment, or fear. Thus you put a mark on yourself that this is now who you are. A moment, a hard moment in which you chose not to recover from is what you have chosen to label yourself with. You claim 'defeated' to be your title as you sharpie it onto your name tag; A refusal to get back on.

There have of course, as there is with every human who ever walked this journey, been many many instances where I have been knocked down. Through chance or due to my own faulted choices, these occurrences still happen ... but I know they are a necessity to conquer, to continue, to get better. I purposely put myself back in those type of situations because I deeply and truly do not want that to be  my badge, my signification, because I know that it is not me. I am NOT my weaknesses and I am NOT what happened to me.

One example of this in my life is social anxiety. I started having it in junior high and it still haunts me on occasion. But despite making up excuses to dart off to the bathroom stall or do cruises solo around town to calm my nerves, I ALWAYS came back; back to the house party, back to the classroom. It may have taken a while to get my breathing back to normal, and tears dried out of my eyes, but dangit I came back. I HAD to come back. This was not me; it is not me. It's something that effects me, but I do not claim this for mine, and it will never be an excuse not to go out or be around people. I deal with its after effects, but for me that cannot have petition over the reasoning to quit trying or to completely avoid.

You are not what happened to you.

 We tend to focus and to fixate, to hold that grudge, to keep that sharp chip on our shoulder, that knife in our backs. It is our precious, our weakness, our excuse. The justifiable, understandable excuse to not be good enough, smart enough, courageous enough, or strong enough. But do we know that this hand-held self-proclaimed excuse is only giving way to our true dark destructive thought? The thought that says: "I am NOT enough."

But you are, we all are. It's an outright lie to ourselves that we're making when we decide to never get back on the horse that bucked us off - that we are now no longer enough because of this past circumstance. To our Saviour we will always be worth it; His sacrifice wasn't made for you based on your faults; it was based on your worth. To be saved is more than just a need because you're human, it was a requirement because you're LOVED.

We get right back on the horse that bucked us off because we're fighters; we are strong and we are brave. We know that we are not our physical limits, our mental illness, our tragic experience, our sins, or our failures. We are beings with potential beyond restraint.


(PS - how cute are all these photos of our daughter with horses?!)



Heaven's slice is knowing you are not what happens to you.

Raindrops On Roses...

These are a few of my favourite things!

Sentimental Edition

For me the word "few" actually means 3-5, but really 3 is the number that always stands out when the word few is said. So, here are 3 of my favourite things. (note: that when adding "quite a" before the word few it actually turns equivalent to "a lot" for me.)

(THESE ARE IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER OF FONDNESS)

#1 These cowboy boots

They've since retired from use due to the heels overlapping the back lip of the boot causing spurs to slide right off (they kind of look odd without the spurs on). I got them when I was about 14 years old. A father's surprise gift to his daughter. My Dad just came home one day from a rodeo and presented them to me. There was no special occasion that enforced it and I had no idea he was getting them. They came from a store - they were brand new! My first none-hand-me-down cowboy boots. They lasted me 10  wonderful years of roping, riding, and rodeoing (I think I even did a few barrel runs and bending of poles in these in the early days). They've seen everything from manure and mud to a wedding dress. They moulded onto my feet  through a decade of real hardships and true happinesses thereby making a home in my heart.

#2 This rocking chair

My mom used to rock me in this rocking chair when I didn't feel well, or just before bedtime. I remember the noise it made as it tipped forward and it just soothed me so well and made me feel safe and loved. It had sat unused in my parent's basement for quite sometime and I knew when I had my little one I just had to have it for her. It now sits in my little girls bedroom in the corner where she rocks and plays on it. And sometimes when she's sick or scared she'll snuggle into me as we rock. We've fixed the noise it made by adjusting where it sits, but every once in a while when I'm lucky, it slips back out and that same sound comes back when I tip forward as we rock. Also, the doily thinger on the back was on the tables at our wedding reception.

#3 That Table

It could be because it was one of my first pieces of furniture given to me when I graduated high school/moved out on my own. It could be because I redid the seat cover in a really darling paisley blue and brown fabric that I adore. It could be because we sit together for supper as a family almost every night to it and catch up on each other's day. But really, it's because the love of my life knelt down and asked me a very important question as I was sitting up to it. Yep, this was the table that started my very own forever. 

Heaven's slice is memories.

Roping

I really like to take the trivial things I have in my life, study out what I know about them as they apply to me, then ponder on how I can twist them into a profound life lesson.  So... I figured I'd throw roping into the ring and see what would come out.

Roping When I was a kid I distinctly remember watching 2 girls, older than me (by like 8 years) whom I knew, breakaway rope at a rodeo. Seeing that a girl could be tough enough to rope like that and go against the grain of the stereotypical barrel racing was something that sparked a fire in me. To me they were true tom-boys, which is something I always tried to pursue as a kid; I so hated how much I loved playing dress-up, barbies, and polly pockets. I grew a little older and this desire to rope stuck with me, so I took that first step. I asked my dad to teach me to rope. Being a rancher and rodeo cowboy, he was the perfect teacher to learn from. He taught me the basics on how to hold, swing, throw, and coil the rope. Then he told me to start roping the dummy. I threw countless loops near that bale with little success. My dad would come back and give me more pointers and I'd continue on. A clean catch was sporadic, but I practised on. Almost daily I'd be out at the barn throwing a loop, with my dad popping in here and there to help. It took a long time, but I finally mastered roping the dummy. The next steps were swinging the rope on the horse standing, swinging the rope on the horse walking, and swinging the rope on the horse running; which were all learned fairly quickly and mastered. Then there was the next big step - roping an actual running calf off the also running horse.  I fell off the horse... lot's. What can I say, inertia is my kryptonite. What do you do when you fall off the horse? You get back on. I was very resistant to this concept by the third or fourth consecutive fall. I was done, but my dad, by divine design, has this gift of simply and effectively getting me to do what he wants. I got back on. The horse I was using was my dad's calf roping horse. He was a bit wide for my legs to get a good hold on and very powerful. We then tried something different; I got on a different horse, his older rope horse whom he was not using as much in rodeos anymore. Success! He was little enough to get a good leg squeeze on and manageable enough to slow, quicken, and turn at my desire when chasing a calf. I fell off much less, but even though I still fall off on occasion, I know the cure for it - to get right back on. I became a member of the High School Rodeo Association from grades 10-12. Each year I did a little better at rodeos and ended my grade 12 year going to the province's finals where I placed 2nd in the average, then was qualified for the Canadian High School Rodeo Finals and the National High School Rodeo Finals in Illinois as well- where I didn't do so well, but it was an awesome experience none the less. I continue to rope in a local rodeo association and southern circuits on occasion. I made the finals in that association a couple years back and due to my pregnancy and mommyhood only hometowned one a year the last couple years with out much success. I hate missing at rodeos, I get super down on myself and it just sucks. When this happens though it forces me to look at why I truly love roping. It's not the rodeo arena's competitive adrenaline. It's not to win that buckle. It's not the prided cowboy-hat-tucked-in-buttoned-shirt-wrangler-butt-number-on-the-back-spur-jangling-brag-without-words-of-my-cowgirlness. It's not any of that... It's spending time with my dad and learning from him. It's being on the back of that horse that I shared so many secrets to and whom I became a loyal partner in crime with. It's making a desire a reality. It's that at home feel of a rope in my hands. It's the practise arena. It's my adolescent years and one of the only things that remained a constant controllable essence of my day. When I haven't tried roping a calf in a long time and I go back to the arena, I generally do ok, but with me, it is not something that can be picked up right where you left it. I have to practise continually to keep my skills up or have to face being a few notches behind because I have waited too long to pick up the rope. I hope to continue to rope throughout my life.

Important life lesson Look at the people around you. Who are you inspired by? Who do you look up to? What is the Christlike attribute that they possess that makes you want to be like them? Once you know the trait you wish to obtain in yourself, let this desire enthral you. Then start putting it to action by asking the master teacher for help AKA pray to your Heavenly Father. Listen to what your Heavenly Father has to say. Use your resources to begin taking steps to incorporate this trait into your life. Practise it daily through scripture study, pondering, and serving those around you. Continue to listen to your Heavenly Father's guidance through this journey of self mastery. Acknowledge when you fall short of the task at hand and listen to your Heavenly Father's voice. Press forward after you have fallen, and continually repeat your try after every fall. If there is something that is holding you back simply change it until it works well for you. Beware of pride with this new trait. It is not to be flaunted and paraded for others to see, it is simply for you to become closer to humility. Always remember why you started this journey to begin with. Remember what you have first started to seek and let the WHY heal your pride. If you don't use this trait constantly you can begin to lose it. It is not something to lay aside and pick up at your convenience. It needs your constant attention. Endure to the end with this precious godly trait.

Heaven's slice is self improvement.