EB

Otherwise known as, "An Opportunity to Brag on One of My Extremely Creative Friends".

EB (short for Emily Brown) is yet another person who I met in Colorado (one of the first, actually--she helped me shovel wood chips and spoke the entire first in an Irish accent). She is highly creative in several aspects--notably poetry, songwriting, and leatherworking.

She made this, which has been my journal for the past several months (the proceeds went towards my friend Tess, who was fighting spinal cancer at the time--she loves butterflies).

To say that I love this journal would be an understatement of the century.

It was also kind of exciting to find leaves that matched the cover. It made my little artistic mind very happy.

M-bar-M, or M-M, is EB's brand on all of her work. (Speaking of her work, you should check it out if you get a chance. Seriously.)







The following project has something of a story behind it. I had this canvas knapsack that belonged to my grandpa (on my dad's side) during WWII. It had been in a closet for ages, until it was pulled out for use by one of my brothers. They didn't use it much, so I grabbed it and made very good use out of it for about 8 years (from ages 14-22).

By last year it was starting to fall apart--the canvas was double-layered, but holes were starting to tear in the bottom and the straps were beginning to part from the back. It was to the point where I didn't use it at all, for fear that it would fall apart in my hands.

A couple of months ago I had the germ of an idea, and I texted EB to ask her what she thought. My idea was to send her the existing bag, have her use it as a pattern, and reuse the hardware as best she could.

This was the bag before:



(So floppy and sad....)

And this was after.

*screaming internally*

She did an incredible job, and every time I look at it I can't get over the sheer gorgeousness: how it was put together, the fact that she incorporated some of the original canvas (serial numbers ftw!), how much of the original hardward survived the process...I can't get over it.

I use it every day and love it to death. :3

Since getting this back I've handed out almost all the business cards she gave me, and know of at least one person who has ordered something due to my singing her praises. With that said, if you ever want a leather creation of great quality, go to her first. Not only will you be supporting a private entrepreneur, but all of her work is of incomparable quality and custom-designed to last a lifetime.

There's not many things that one can say that about. (And if you ever see M-M in stores, you'll know who makes them!)

Okay, I'm done bragging. For now....

Twenty-Fourteen: A Recap (part 2)

May-October: The Ranch

This next bit is probably going to be incredibly long…so please bear with me.

After staying with Kas for a night, she asked me if I could pick up an espresso machine on my way to the ranch. I agreed to this scheme. That morning I had also gotten wind that one of the girls I had worked with last year was flying in to Denver that morning, but she didn't have a ride. So I volunteered to pick her up. At the time that seemed like an innocent bit of good-will. It turned into a fiasco of driving to the wrong terminal, having to leave the airport and come all the way back around the get to the right terminal, trying to find her, finally managing to pick her up, and THEN going to get the espresso machine.

The good part was that we stopped for late breakfast/early lunch with Josiah, the videographer from last year. He had driven up from Texas about a week before. Once he heard that I was driving my own car, he looked out the window from Chick-fil-A and asked which one was mine. Cue the following exchange:

Me: See that dirty green car? Mine's the silver one right next to it.

J: Oh. *pause* See that dirty green car? That one's mine.

Apparently he had been caught in a dust storm on the way from Texas, and what with the snow and rain and mud on the ranch his car was looking a little worse for wear.

But anyway….moving on to the ranch! We arrived sometime in the early afternoon, and all the way up the mountain I could feel myself getting more and more excited to see the ranch. After all, the last time I had seen it, the place was half-buried under a mudslide. But I knew that people had been working on it all winter. Surely the place was looking better than it did.

When we finally pulled in the front gate…I almost felt like crying. The place looked better, it really did. But I knew that they needed to have the place open in a week, and all I could see was mud and heavy equipment and patches of melting snow. It looked like a construction zone. (The place was cleaned up in time for opening, but the very first impression was a little depressing.)

As a wrangler, the vast majority of the first week was spent on trail maintenance. One memorable moment of walking all over the mudslide, and then walking up a steep trail trying to keep up with Nick (the head wrangler) and nearly dying in the process sticks out very vividly in my memory. The rest of the time we were picking rocks from the new arena—that is, the new arena area, since the arena hadn't been built yet and we wranglers were going to build it over the summer—and getting horses from the lower pastures and helping the farriers and basically spending a great deal of time doing a lot of hard, manual labor. It was during this time that our wrangler group had to get to know each other and decide whether or not we would work well together.

Here are the wranglers, by the way!

L-R, back row: Andrew, Terry (honorary), Austin, Casey, Derek, EB, me, Larry (honorary)
L-R, front row: Claire (honorary), Gabrielle, Tori, Sara (women's work crew boss), Levi (ranch kid)

Can you tell that we have a hard time taking pictures of just wranglers? XD

The one face that I sorely missed was that of EB. 

EB and Copper

 

Me, Gabrielle, EB, Tori (otherwise known as 'EB and the triplets')

She's a few months younger than me, but for some reason it seems like she's much older and wiser (To be fair: though we're the same age, she's spent her years at a much higher RPM than me). I spent a lot of time in 2013 sitting quietly in her workshop and watching her work with leather and talking about people and life…so we became rather good friends. I still count her as a very dear, close friend. So when I heard that she wasn't coming back in 2014 I was pretty devastated. The first reaction, if I'm very honest, was 'if EB isn't there, then I don't want to go'. Thankfully I quickly came to my senses and decided that it would still be good if she wasn't there.

The summer wouldn't be complete without a description of the horses on my string, so here goes.

Chester-pony

Chase (part Bashkir Curly, a horse that has kinky/wavy hair)

Grace (aka Brunhilde, as I affectionately called her)

There was a bay gelding without a name, but I called him 'Patchy' due to some hairless spots on his face and neck. He started off as a major thorn in my side, but by the end of the summer I was starting to like him. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of him. :/

There's so much that I can say about the summer…to keep everything from dragging out too terribly long I'll try to condense it into the general impression left on me.

I started off feeling very optimistic: I was doing something I loved (that is, working with horses), with people that I liked, and was having a great time doing it. I really fell in love with the horses on my string, which probably wasn't the greatest idea but there you have it. I also came to know the horses in the guest string so well that I could tell who was who at just a glance; I knew their temperaments and little quirks and what set them off and what calmed them down. I was learning an immense amount about riding and training and absolutely reveled in it.

I had also become friends with everyone in our wrangler group—some better than others, of course—and had struck up what seemed to be a great friendship with one of the guys. And that, so I thought, would be that.

About a month into all this, I realized that I was developing slightly more than friendly feelings towards this guy. And I hated it, because (a) there's a 'no-purple' rule (i.e., no dating) and (b) I really wasn't sure if this guy was a good person to feel that way towards. So I tried not to worry too much about it.

A couple of weeks later—well, a long story short, we had something of a falling out. I recovered from the incident and thought it was all okay. But one thing led to another and my interactions with this guy for the rest of the summer turned into one misunderstanding after another. I let it affect how I felt, and spent several weeks feeling like a dark cloud was hanging over me. I tried not to let it affect how I interacted with guests, but I started withdrawing more and more from staff: when work was done I would retreat to make phone calls or write in my journal or draw, and end up not going to supper or to the extra-curricular events most nights.

In short, I allowed the summer to become rather isolated and hellish. There's no other way to put it. I found out slowly that it wasn't just me feeling that way—some of the other girls, who I had withdrawn from partly because we weren't around each other much and partly because I didn't try to see them in my time off, said that the tendency to isolate was same for a lot of people. By the middle to the latter half of the summer, most of the people who were staying all the way through were feeling burnt out and beaten down, like they couldn't wait to go home. This was a huge change from last year, where I felt like I didn't want to leave.

There was a lot of good stuff that happened, a lot of funny things, a lot of sad things, and a lot of bad stuff. Last summer was simultaneously the best, most difficult, most stretching, most strengthening time of my life. I made some great friends, and turned down some potentially great friendships. I made a lot of mistakes, and learned a lot about how people work. I learned a LOT about horses and discovered how badly I miss them when I can't be around them for twelve hours a day. All these lessons were dearly bought.

But at the end of the summer, it was easy to leave. I don't say that like it's a good thing—but I was so ready to move on and have my own space again and to not be living out of the contents of a suitcase.

Oh yes, and before I forget: in September, I cut all of my hair off.

I had been thinking about it for a long time, so it wasn't exactly a spur-of-the-moment thing. I used to say that I would never cut all my hair off, and then I started thinking about it, and mused, and made a secret Pinterest board, and thought some more, for well over a year. In retrospect, considering how the summer had gone, there was something a little symbolic about getting rid of the hair. It was almost as if I was tossing away all of the issues and stupidity of the year with it.

I've ended up LOVING it. Ease of management aside, I think it makes me look older. It seemed that the majority of the time people assumed that I was 18 or 19, and when one is almost 23 that's a little depressing. Now people ask if I'm still in college, so I guess that's an improvement. 

Tada.....

For most of the summer, I had been working out negotiations with my aunt for deciding whether or not I would be moving to northern Arkansas to work with her. That brings us to the month of October…

(stay tuned for part 3!)

Twenty-Fourteen: A Recap (part 1)

The last time I updated this blog, it was April. In the 8 months that have passed since then, it's something of an understatement to say that a lot has happened.

Nevertheless…a LOT has happened.

With that in mind, I'm going to break this down into somewhat chronological order. There will be some criss-crossing back and forth across timelines, but it shouldn't get too confusing.

April-May: ranch preparation

I had applied to work at Wind River Ranch again for the entire summer as a wrangler. Since getting the job, and deciding that I would drive there myself instead of flying/taking a train, I spent most of the time beforehand working and getting my car ready for such a journey. At this point I was still working at the gym 6 afternoons a week and cleaning houses in the AM. (I finished up a 6-month weight-lifting regimen and a Couch-to-5K program around the end of April as well—something I really miss is true weightlifting. But oh well.)

On May 3^rd, my little brother got married. It was a very, very small occasion—originally only the parents were invited, but I managed to finagle my way in under the pretense that they needed a photographer. (The finagling was only just.)

Look at the happy couple!

After the wedding—the day of, if one wants to be particular about it—I drove to my aunt and uncle's house in northern Arkansas. The plan was to stay at her house for about a week, then drive down to Texas to see some friends that I hadn't seen for 4 years, and then drive from Texas to Colorado. I had been on road trips before, but never by myself. I remember being pretty excited at the prospect—unfortunately it seems to have awoken a strange desire to see the United States in its entirety by car. We'll see what happens with that.

While in Arkansas, my aunt and I went to Crystal Bridges (this fantastic museum comprising just of American art), the Bluebird Factory, I shadowed her to work a couple of days…the week ended up stretching to almost 10 days just because we were having so much fun. During this time I was offered a job (jokingly, I thought) by my aunt's boss. It turns out he wasn't joking…but I didn't realize this until some time later.

Then I drove to northern Texas to see Christa and Ashlee!

I've known these two for quite a long time—back in 2010 we had 'The Great Illinois-Texas Transfer' where they flew up to stay with me for a week, and then I flew to Texas to stay with them for the following week. I was only able to stay for a couple of days this time, but it was wonderful. 

Also, here's a picture of me on a longhorn bull. (Or maybe it was a steer.)

I got up very early on a Tuesday (or maybe a Wednesday? The days blurred together) and made the 15-hour drive from Christa and Ashlee's to a town outside of Denver, Colorado. My Google maps sent me up through Amarillo, across the panhandle of Oklahoma, and through the southern deserty-bits of Colorado. It was one of those things that, at the time, seemed terribly exciting (except for the bits across the desert—that got a little boring) but in retrospect was kind of crazy.

I think that doing something like that on my own, with no one else to rely on in the moment (sure, I could call people if I needed something, but I was the one who had to do the actual driving and keep myself awake through the long hours of flat desert) had an interesting effect on me. It increased my confidence in myself as a navigator (much of the trip I had to use a map because my phone didn't have service) and made me realize that I could actually do these things by myself. I mean, I knew in my mind that I could do it. But until I had actually done it, there was nothing to confirm that mental knowledge.

So it was, one very long day later, that I ended up at Kas' house outside of Denver. From her house to the ranch is about 1 ½ hours, and having a place to recoup before going to said ranch was indescribable. I also knew that she wouldn't be going back that summer except for visits, and it was really nice to be able to catch up before plunging into the ranch activity.

(Part 2 will be loaded with pictures, fret not!)

May 2014

Guess where I'm going to be in May? 

*happy sigh* I can't wait to go back. I'm just saying.

I've gotten on as a wrangler this year, and I'm super excited: mostly because it means that I'll be at the barn ALL THE TIME and I won't have to leave to clean cabins. AAAAHHHH.

 It also means that I'll get to wear spurs. I have only worn spurs like....twice. And both times were this year while riding the blind mare. But this week I invested in a pair of spurs (they were supposed to arrive today, and I suspect that they're still in the mailbox because we forgot to get the mail. *facepalm*) and as soon as they get here I'm going to find excuses to wear them EVERYWHERE. I might even find places to ride with them! 

But anyway...May is proving to be a packed month because I'm going to drive out to Colorado, but before that I'm taking pictures for my brother's wedding, visiting my aunt in Arkansas, visiting friends in Texas, and driving all over the West before actually ending up in Colorado. So that ought to be interesting. And I also signed up for a Color Vibe 5K in Fort Collins at the end of May, which should also be interesting because I've never ran in a race before.

No...wait....I have, actually. There's a race here in town called the Strawberry Strut that occurs every June. There's a 1-mile and a 5-mile race, and when I was 8 or so my older brother and I decided to run the 1-mile. BIG MISTAKE. I don't remember much, except towards the end I was panting so hard that I was making a weird, coughing, 'HUUUHH' sound in my chest. I can only replicate the noise if I breathe REALLY hard, and when I do people scream at me to stop because it sounds so awful. 

But anyway. The 5K should be better because I've actually been running a bit (started last year and have been running almost every day at the gym--today I walked/ran 1.5 miles! Exciting times!) and have a Couch-to-5K plan that I'm kinda working on (in between sprint sessions). If nothing else, I hope that spending a couple of weeks at 9200 feet and then plunging down to 5000 feet will give me a false sense of endurance. XD

And after that....I have no idea what's going to happen. I've been tossing around ideas for moving to Colorado, trying to get an actual business off the ground, possibly going on a mission trip out of the country (which is WAY up in the air right now)...to put it succinctly, life is exciting and I have no idea what I'm doing. That's what makes it an adventure, right?

If You Want People to Hate Your Guts, Glue Your Carpet to the Floor

Our last week in Colorado I was given the dubious honor of helping pull up old, wet carpet from the basement of staff housing that smelled strongly of urine of some sort. (We thought cat initially, but decided later that it was far too fragrant and could only be from a bear. Whatever the culprit, the result was nasty.)

When we first started there were three of us: Tess, Moriah, and myself. We had volunteered for the job of pulling carpet and re-organizing Josiah's office in lieu of shoveling; we had also figured that it would be a quick in-and-out venture. None of us had anticipated the horrors that were to await--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The beginning consisted of moving boxes, shelves, and furniture off the carpet so we could start prying said carpet off the floor. I think we had figured that it was loose and held down by the furniture, but pulling at the edge revealed glue. Not just a little bit either, but a LOT of glue.

At this point we were still cheerful and unsuspecting of the travails ahead.

A couple of hours into the process we had discovered a kind of method that worked a little bit: prying up the carpet with a crowbar until there was enough to grab a handful, brace oneself, and throw all of one's weight backwards until the offending stuff gave a couple of inches. Rest, rinse and repeat.

Around this time Tess, who has a marvelous problem-solving mind, wasn't happy with our (lack of) progress and started looking up ways to get up glued carpet. We found several methods (vinegar, acetone, and boiling water, respectively) and tried them all. Interestingly enough, boiling water was the most successful method.

Boiling water also keeps people from getting high and trying to play baseball with the empty vinegar bottle. *cough*

Occasionally we would strike gold and, instead of giving a mere inch or two, an entire section of carpet would rip up. It gave us a distinct sense of victory and the feeling that all of our effort wasn't for naught.

By the end of the first day (roughly from 9 AM to 5:30 PM), we had pulled all of the carpet except for a strip in front of the door. By this point we had also decided that our backs couldn't take any more tugging for the day and retired amongst many a groan.

The next day I awoke to hands swollen and weakened by the previous days' activity. It took a good 15 minutes for them to loosen up and be suitable for any kind of use.

It took a good hour to finish the last strip, and then we started on the glue.

Oh, the infernal glue. I could go on for days about this stuff. -.-

Around this point Tess dropped out of the actual scraping--she has a bad back, and it decided to go out on her. So instead she started reorganizing Josiah's desk, and EB and Charissa joined in the crew.

This was around lunchtime, after about 2 1/2 hours of work. We tried vinegar, acetone, paint thinner, Goo Gone, adhesive remover, and hot water in turn--if ever in doubt, boiling hot water is the way to go. It's fast, cheap, doesn't smell, and won't get you high.

EB decided to try on Josiah's bow tie just for kicks. XD

And then there was Tess, working industriously away!

David dropped in for a while at the end of the day. The process at this point was to pour boiling water on the glue, scrape madly until the water cooled (about 5-10 seconds), Shop-Vac the gummy bits and cold water, and rinse and repeat. To say that we all felt incredibly old is the understatement of the year--my shoulders, hands, and knees were all pretty much shot by the end of the process.

The end of Day 2 saw about half of the room scraped, and all of us thoroughly whipped.

Day 3 began with the same people scraping away. Moriah and I tackled the housekeeping shed until I traded places with Tess after she finished Josiah's desk. At that point I was back to scraping, and we (Charissa, EB, and I) spent most of our time trying to sing along with EB's Pandora station and screaming at the floor as we hacked away at the rubber bits. It wasn't a pretty sight.

However, I am glad to say that, after 3 days of scraping and gouging and cursing the people who ever thought to use copious amounts of glue for their stupid carpet, we were DONE.

And Tess finished Josiah's desk too. 

That sucker needed it too, man. (The desk, not Josiah.) It had been in a permanent state of pig-sty-ness all summer.

With that said...don't glue your carpet to the floor. Ever. EVER. EVER. It will make people want to hunt you down and do unspeakable things to you in revenge.