Stream of thoughts...

I've been walking around with inconsequential thoughts in my head, looking for the cordless phone to call Traci or Beth; they are usually sitting on a mountain of their own inconsequential thoughts that they, too want to share. The phone is, of course, lost, and I'm not going to shackle myself to the wall with the corded one! So you all have the pleasure (or agony) of sharing a day's worth of inconsequential thoughts. Feel free to add any you've been sitting on...

I bought an issue of the magazine Cowboys and Indians this month because George Strait was on the cover. They could put George Strait on a case of motor oil and I'd buy it; I wouldn't even look at the weight or viscosity, either. (My husband just fell over in a dead faint, that I would know that even mattered in motor oil...)  It happened to be the NFR edition, where they are promoting Las Vegas and the Finals and Cowboy Christmas and all that jazz, and I thought it would be fun to catch up on the latest western trends.

All I can say about the latest "western" trend is that:
1. If there's a surface that can be seen, it's covered in turquiose, silver or fringe. And not tastefully covered, either.
 AND
2. I don't know how those poor little emaciated cowgirl models are able to pack all that bling around. They'd better get some workman's comp after the photo shoot and buy a hamburger. It's disgraceful.
(The article on George Strait, by the way, was well done and a bonus was that, buried under all those turquoise encrusted longhorn skulls (yes!) there was also an article about Ian Tyson. Neither Ian or George had turquoise on, bless their hearts!)

Next thought...
I urge everyone reading this blog to go buy a pint of heavy whipping cream and a bag of espresso beans, and create what I assume will be the drink offered in Heaven.  I make french press coffee, but whatever style you use, brew up something strong with the espresso beans. While that's going on, pour the WHOLE PINT of cream into a bowl, add *some* powdered sugar and a splash of real vanilla, and whip it up into soft peaks. Get the biggest mug you have, fill it half-way up with the whipping cream and top that with the coffee. I realize this is rather unorthodox, but you all need to learn to think outside the box. (You should have quite a lot of whipped cream left over, unless you just put it in the carafe and called it good.) Never mind that. Take yourself to a soft chair and drink the whole mug. (The reason you sit in the soft chair is so that when you swoon with joy, you don't fall down and needlessly splash coffee everywhere.)

Moving on...
(If you can)
I wanted to make a tutu for Miss Allie Glasscock last week, and being too lazy and/or too pressed for time to hand sew the elastic, I got out my sewing machine, Bernie. I had forgotten how sweetly she stitched and that wonderful comforting hum she made as she joined the fabric together! Bernie and I have been friends for 20 years. We've sewn together through bargain cotton, velveteen, polar fleece and satin. (Not in the same project...) Truth be told, she's holding up better than I am. I don't remember the needle having that fine an eye last time we sewed...  I put her back in the case, because I don't have room to leave her out, but the case is sitting here in the livingroom and I'm pretty sure I hear her calling me.  Perhaps we'll make some things for Christmas...

Lastly...
(I just have to tell this to you. Traci's heard it, but it still makes me smile.)
The day we shipped the steer calves, the guys and I did all sorts of sorting, shifting of cows, moving of panels and so forth. We were all pretty weary; even the cows.  The last bunch of cows we turned into the lower lot ambled through the gate and then stopped, staring transfixed, at me.  At least they were staring at what they could see of me.  I was behind a corrugated fence, so all they saw was my head moving.  Their ears were forward, their heads were up and you could just HEAR them thinking, "How'd she DO that?" 
Cows are so cool.