Time to Cowgirl Up

The girlfriends are headed to Zona today for our annual trip to Big Sal's gorgeous Western home. A couple of us can't go this year but we're there in spirit.

I was reminded of a western expression this morning. While speaking about the economy and the enormous challenges facing our nation, someone said, "It's time for all of us to cowboy up." I immediately thought of the women pictured above. They have "cowgirled up" in big ways.

Some have dealt with illness and death with parents or in-laws. Some have watched the baby leave the nest. Some have carried the worry load over health issues with loved ones while jumping into action. In the two years since this photo was taken, some of our lives have changed dramatically -- in good ways too. There have been business ventures and new grandchildren. Many happy moments with family and friends. These women, and many others I know, choose to soldier on and they usually do it with a ton of class.

Tomorrow is Obama's inauguration and like millions of people, I will watch and listen. I'm sure his speech will be uplifting but he's given enough statements for us to know it will also be filled with warnings of tough times ahead. Frankly, I feel like I've been cowgirling up for a while now. But I will plod ahead. I may put on my cowboy boots, toast my girls in Zona and psyche myself up for a tougher cowgirl attitude.

Body Parts

Men used to announce, "I'm a leg man." Or, "I'm a breast man." I have no idea if young men still do this -- I'll have to ask the baby -- but it always stuck with me.

Many body parts betray us as we age. Some parts get wrinkly and droopy. Others just diminish, like eyesight or hearing.

I am not a young person but I'm not an oldie either. One of my favorite things about the Belle was her absolute refusal to be old. Kicky clothes and kicky shoes made her happy. She was the Queen of Accessories. I was taking notes.

My mother asked me to stop writing about our weird legs. Sorry! You can't tell me what to write. I have been fighting these legs my entire life. Throw in a major dose of middle age and suddenly, they're not just weird shaped. Now they have wrinkly knees (too much sun) for added fun.

When I was a child, my friends Kim and Angel had beautiful legs. I haven't seen Angel in years but Kim still has them. Jan has gorgeous legs. My friends Mickey and Cynthia have serious gams. I've made the mistake, more than once, of being photographed next to one or all of them in a swimsuit.

Lately I am surrounded by young women with these gazelle-type legs. My goddaughters, my neighbors, my niece Kelly and daughters of friends. I stare. I drool. I know it's a sin but I covet them.

I still wear shorts and skirts. Leg men would run away. Deal with it.

Is there such a thing as men who are attracted to arms?

Lies and Pedicures

I'm not very good at listening. I get wrapped up in the puzzle of my mind, trying to figure out my response.

Today, I was the postman -- through rain, sleet, snow -- no measly weather situation is going to stop me. I was on a mission: Hangdog needed toothpaste and lightbulbs. (Ok, secretly, I just needed to see him.) Some warped part of me looks forward to his lies:

They made me walk ten miles today.
No one has given me any pills.
I never sleep.

The Belle would've put up with this for a nanoseond. Then she would've shoved a pill in his mouth and taken him for a danish and a pedicure.

Locking Myself In

I'm pretty good about locking myself in my office when I need to think. I'll even lock myself in the bedroom for some quiet time. I'm the one who makes the rounds at night to make sure all doors are locked. But, I've always been pretty lax about unlocked doors during the day. I go in and out. The dog goes in and out. Plus, there is almost always someone here.

After numerous comments/lectures from my father and houseboy, I have changed this habit. I lock every door. And once again, I'm in trouble.

The husband comes in through the door from the garage to the back hallway. I have no idea why carrying a key is beyond him. I have no idea why a locked door seems to be a personal affront. He doesn't understand why that particular door needs to be locked. In his mind, if the garage door is down, that door should remain unlocked.

A few days ago, I explained that I lock it because I am home alone. To which he replied, "No, you're not. The oldies are here." (Yeah, that makes me feel safe.) They are so used to traffic in and out of this house. If a random burglar (or worse) came in, they probably wouldn't wake up. If they did, they would assume it was someone I know and I've given permission to remove all of our worldly goods.

There are two ironies:
1. I lock every door before I go to bed. When the oldies are here, she roams at night, goes outside to smoke, etc. I wake up almost every morning to find two doors unlocked.

2. My mother works nights so my father does the lock-up routine in their house. He repeatedly locks her out of their bedroom. It makes her crazy.
The oldies are on their trip. I am occasionally (blessedly) alone. The door in debate is locked.

I Double Dog Dare You

As a child, the dare is more than a challenge. It's a little thrilling and very scary. We always took the dare. The other kids were probably brave; I was just terrified that someone might beat me up.

(Once, I told my mother that someone had threatened to hit me. She told me that if I did not hit them back (HARD!) she would have to hit me when I got home. It was a dare and I think I grew a spine that day.)

I've strapped skis to my feet and rolled down a mountain. I jumped off the second level of some boat in the Pacific Ocean because my friend dared me. I've taken a shot of tequila and let some Mexican man twirl me like a baton. Guess why? Someone dared me.

I'm still prissy but the dare has provided some great adventures and memories in my life.

When my mind goes to the dark, dreaded place, I want to give the oldies a dare. I'll be kind. It might be, "I dare you to stay out of bed for the entire day." Or, "I dare you to go an entire day without frying something." Or, "I dare you to let the mail stay in the mailbox for an hour." If I get really wacky, I'll double dog dare them.