the yogini cowgirl

the perfect shade of green ... (and no, I don't mean envy)

072210.  A long time ago (a few weeks, at least), in a magical land far far away called Montana, the universe was apparently dealing with some “issues” and needed to let off a little steam (in the form of a freak summer hail storm).

And the Cowboy’s cottage was caught in the melee.

It sort of looks like someone was using the side of the house for target practice, doesn’t it?

In its wake, the storm left blown out windows.  Glass everywhere (inside the house and out).  Roof slices on the ground.  And 2 ½” ice pellets strewn across the ground.

 

It was a little nutty.

And thankfully, the LO and the dogs and the yogini were not in the house when it happened.  

We were in the car driving home from the Post Office. 

Safe and sound (minus the shattered windshield and dented hood).  Actually, I think the only one who even noticed the storm was me … the LO was fast asleep and the dogs were fighting among themselves … (is it wrong that I don’t miss carting the dogs around each day while we’re here in LA?)

So now that a little time has gone by … and the insurance adjusters have done their adjusting … and the contractors have done their contractual assessing … now comes the fun part: picking a new color for the house.

I realize it’s not my house.

But I do get to live there.

And I’ve been asked for my opinion.

And even if I hadn’t been asked, I probably would have had an opinion.

But I’m happy to have the freedom to express it.

Because keeping opinions in can be challenging, you know?

And I would like to live in a green house.  I don’t know about you, but when I see a green house, I just want to go in it.  They’re just so inviting and warm and welcoming.  Now, not every color green draws me in.  Lime green doesn’t do it for me.  And forest green can have too much blue in it for my personal taste. 

But pea green? 

 

Grey green?

A rich swampy green? 

 

Mmmmm … I like it.

So I’m on a quest to find the perfect shade of green.

And it started today on my walk with the LO (which is when I took the above photos). 

We’d like to present the Cowboy with the perfect green before we head back to the Big Sky state.

So please feel free to send me green pics.  Because I’m hoping different shades of green are popular in different parts of this beautiful country of ours … and I’d love to see what green looks like where YOU are!

Q: Are you having fun, yet?

breathing is easy …except when it’s not

071110.  Inhale.  Pause.  Exhale.  Pause.  Repeat.

Easy, right?

And relatively automatic.

Until life gets in the way.

We get excited. (Did I mention we’re traveling to see the Cowboy in 2 days?  And the SuperMom.)

We get anxious. (Did I mention I’m taking an incredibly active 15-month old on a 2-leg flight on Tuesday?)

(Yes, that's potting soil on her face ... and in her hand ... and on her shoulders ... and if I had framed the photo better you would see that it's all over the top of her head ...)

We get mad. (Did I mention that our dogs are back to fighting it out for ownership of the back of my car?)

We get sad.  (Did I mention the LO dumped an entire quart of yogurt in the laundry room and then body-painted her way into the living room?  That's not the sad part ... that was pretty funny ... sort of ... BUT ... since the Cowboy is in Los Angeles, I was the only one home.  And I had to clean it and her up? - Another missed photo-op.  I promise to get better about taking pictures of these ridiculous moments.)

In the midst of all that life, many of us “forget” how to breath.

Our bodies get out of sync with our lungs. 

We hold our breath. 

Or we breathe too much.

It’s a complicated thing.

So I’m just writing to remind everyone (because I figure I totally need the reminder … you might, too):

When you get excited.

or anxious,

or mad,

or sad,

or depressed.

or elated.

or whatever it is you’re feeling whenever you feel it …

BREATHE!!!

Inhale.  Pause.  Exhale.  Pause.  Repeat.

Q: How do you remind yourself to relax and breathe?

some days are better than others ...

062110pm.  Summer Solstice!

The longest day of the year.

Literally.

And, as far as I am concerned, figuratively.

It was the first day I woke up and felt a little lonely in this beautiful state of the Big Sky. 

(I took this picture this afternoon … while driving on a back road en route to a small town called Amsterdam a few miles southwest of Bozeman.  I had never been to Amsterdam.  And now I have!  A very sweet little hamlet, but my favorite part was the ride there.)

I could feel the absence of the Cowboy.  I missed the SuperMom.  I missed my friends.  And generally speaking, just felt a little bit blue.

Because I’ve learned that I should reach out to people when I’m feeling that way, I called one of my writer friends who lives in LA.  It almost always helps to hear a friend’s voice, to laugh, to hear about someone else’s day.

And I’ll say up front that SC has what many (including me) consider an enviable life.  She’s cute.  And smart.  She’s writing a movie for a big time producer at Sony.  And she’s one of those people who is on the list for every big premiere.  She goes to every good concert.  She goes to fun parties.  And she always knows what purse to buy for each season.  Seriously.  She has a gift.

Anyway … SC has this rug at her front door.

 

Such a great message.

I had forgotten about the rug (which is a pretty new addition to her abode, so forgetting about it is a totally reasonable response since I moved away before it entered the picture and I’d only heard about it).

But it’s exactly the reminder I needed today.

And then she commiserated with me that she’s been bummed, too.  Frustrated with her rewrite, feeling fat, and generally, just feeling blech.

But here’s the capper: 

Her adorable pup Sadie (pictured above … on the rug) has had a tender stomach for a few days.  And by tender, I mean she’s had diarrhea.  Often.  Outside.  In the laundry room.  In the kitchen.  And yes … on this rug …

So I guess I’m not the only one who had a crappy morning.

Q: What do you do when you’re feeling blue?

Reunited. And it feels so good ... um ... maybe not.

061710.  Have I written at all about the complex relationship between the Cowboy’s dog Hitcher and the Henry??

I don’t think I have.

Because it is complex.

It’s not just that Hitcher is an Alpha Male’s Alpha Male (beta only to the Cowboy).  I should tell you that Hitcher is a gorgeous, slightly aloof and opinionated Catahoula Leopard Dog who has very clear views on what it is to be a dog.  

According to Hitcher, the Henry doesn't qualify.

And it’s not just that the Henry is … well … not so much a Beta as …

How do I put this delicately?

Hmmmm ….

I don’t think there’s a way …

(Please forgive the graphic nature of this description)

The Henry

Is

A Pansy.

With a capital P.

As you may recall, Hitcher was with the Cowboy in Utah.  Then he made his way with the horses to a ranch in Washington State, where the Cowboy retrieved him and the horses this past weekend.

So the Henry had four blissful sans-Hitcher months of decadence and singular love.  You might imagine then that Hitcher’s homecoming was met with a little trepidation on The Henry’s part. 

 
But it was inevitable.

I could almost hear the theme from Rocky as the two foes, in slo-mo, ran toward each other across the field (can you hear it?  or is it just in my head?) ... 

And low and behold ... it was remarkably uneventful.

 
Hitcher almost looked happy to see the Henry.

And the Henry only cowered for a few seconds before they took off TOGETHER toward the creek near the paddock.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t traumatic to the chocolate ball of neurosis …

Should I be concerned that the Henry’s now sleeping UNDER our bed?

Q: Who’s the alpha in your house?