500!!!!!

*The VERY MINUTE I had to wait to make the 500th post, I had 10 pop up in my head.  The VERY MINUTE I sat down to write this, pffft!, I couldn't think of a doggone thing!

We have the tiara!

Honestly. Do you know how often the need for a tiara arises in day to day functions? It's astounding! 

All the socks matched in that load? Tiara! 

 Jello for a potluck sets up? Tiara!

Only got yelled at once, in the corral, all day? Tiara!

Remember your mother's birthday in time to send a card with no apologies after your signature? Tiara!

Every woman should have one.

I don't know what I did without mine!

 We have cake!

Liberally coated with sprinkles and those magical frosting flowers...

You can't tell, but it's Funfetti cake, too!

Nothing says, "Cohagen Chronicles" like Funfetti cake with sprinkles.

The very first Chronicles post was during a snow storm when I couldn't go to town to get my hair done.

And I didn't tell ANYONE that I was blogging for nearly 6 months.  I didn't really know how to drop that into conversation...you know?

"Hi! So...um....I have a blog where I write about skunks and dead flies and hole-y underwear and near-death experiences with bull relocation projects.  You should check it out! Pass the ketchup?"

Ah, yeah....no.

Today, I was trying to think of the earliest reader.  I think it was Country Wife. 

The most far-flung reader? (That admits to reading the Chronicles..)  I'm sure it's Nancy, in Britain.

The most famous reader? I gotta tell you, I know Patsy Clairmont read it once, and Homer Hickam reads it!

The most surprising lurker? Texas Ghost Rider.  He scared the dickens out of me!

Most faithful readers? Well, I know for sure that Denise and Sara are all over me when I miss a day or two. Or 10.

I can't even remember how we found each other, Alice and Patricia!

The guys who won't admit in public that they read the Chronicles....the Mikes. (There are two of them. They don't know each other. God forbid they ever meet...)

Family, family of family, friends of family of family, friends, neighbors, people who stumbled on The Chronicles when they typed "Ranch wife" in Google, Singaporians who are looking to make a buck....

We aren't going to get into youngest, oldest, or any of those sensitive areas...

I can't believe the posts that get the most comments.

George Strait.

My crazy purse, Madame Serenghetti.

Squeezers.

I can't believe the people that walk up to me on the street and confess that they are long time Chronicles readers, secretly. Then tell me what they'd like to see more of.

I can't believe how many cool people I've met and corresponded with, thanks to this blog.

I can't believe I came up with 500 things that I thought were publish-able.

So, in the sticky notes box, if you'd tell me how you got here and what your favorite post was, I'd love to know. I wish I could say I'd send you some sweet thing in the mail, like a box of 500 Bequet caramels, but realistically, that would never happen.  I still have 3 Christmas cards sitting here that need mailed. The odds of the caramels making to the post office are astronomically slim. 

AND, because there are so many who say they don't know how to leave a comment:

Write your message in the box and sign it.

Choose the "Anonymous" box.

Type the weird word and enter.

Voila! Comment!

I love the sticky notes.

They're why I keep writing this blog, you know?

So, YAY 500 posts!!!!

Thanks for the fun.



There's no blood in this post!

And that's a cotton-picking miracle, considering we're on Day 5 of snowed-in-minus-20-degrees-don't-leave-the-house-or-you'll-die-in-10-minutes-according-to-John-Pulaski-the-"meteorologist". 

One of my friends asked what we're doing with ourselves, during this cozy time.

Darn little, I can tell you that.

But here's a pictoral portrayal for you, of Snow Day #100-102:

Mile after mile after mile after mile of this landscape...

But inside, it's a lot more colorful!

I don't remember exactly, but I think this was the day he was a pirate good-guy cowboy. 

There's really no reason to narrow it down to one lifestyle...

 I do hair and makeup to go to Bobby Burns, only to end up folding yet another basket of laundry and watching a British/Irish movie called Widow's Peak.  This is just to show you that I am, indeed, alive and that I haven't succumbed to the bathrobe slouch. Yet.

 Water color painting at FIVE IN THE MORNING!!! I believe we'd burned through all the entertainment choices by 8 a.m. that day...

Lots of reading...we do LOTS of reading....

 They put themselves down for a nap! Out of sheer boredom, I believe.

But I'm not going to look a gift nap in the mouth....

Aren't they angels when they sleep?

 They're not kicking each other!

 Even Twilla...who was grouchy at being photographed with her hair all askew...

 They were watching the first Star Wars movie, which I have to say, would probably put George Lucas to sleep, now. 

 Homework. Maggie is teaching Angus how to do math.  He ACTS interested, but only because someone is paying attention to him.  He really doesn't care about numbers until it comes to bargaining for more cookies.  Then he's pretty astute.

 We do puzzles...teeny-tiny 500 piece puzzles....ugh.

 Pirate ships capsize and sink, death and destruction everywhere, glorious carnage....

 I actually like the blurriness of this picture....it's probably how the cat sees all the "loving".  You know, I used to feel sort of sorry for the cats, who get squeezed and dressed in doll clothes and hauled around in Tonka trucks, but then I realized: it was them or me. 

 We bake. A LOT.  Here's a recipe for Cranberry Coffee Cake from one of Shelly's gorgeous cookbooks.  The books have really good recipes, of course, but they are just little albums of art, and I often just sit and look at the pictures! And miss Shelly.

One bottle of wine, left.  How sad! I love the picture of the frazzled housewife behind it...

And that's pretty much what one of our snow days looks like. 

I didn't post pictures of the crying and tantrums, snarling and pulling out of hair.

My blog, my editorial privilege.

Besides, you don't need to see me in that state....

Tuesdays are the armpit of the week...

It's true.

They stink.

Mondays, for as rough as they seem, at least hold sort of a fresh-start feeling. 
Wednesdays are half-way there!
Thursdays, you can see the light of the weekend.
And of course, Fridays are days of rejoicing and the beginning of the weekend! 

But Tuesdays have nothing going for them. 

(Now, I know there will be an outcry and a quick listing of fabulous happenings in the sticky notes....why your Tuesday DOES have merit and interest! Bring it on. )

It was once pointed out to me that all my days looked the same, that there was no difference from Saturdays or Tuesdays or whatever...that my Friday was basically just another of the same! Made me mad.  Because it was true.  I almost hung the phone up on the person who tossed that out to me! Wow, that stung!

(I managed to get back by calling that person back around 4 p.m. on a Friday afternoon and pouring a cocktail, while happy hour was still an hour and a half away for her/him. There ARE benefits to working from home, where every day is the same.  Tiny, tiny benefits...)

Now.

This is the 498th post, on the Chronicles. 
Who ever thought I'd have 500 posts in me?
(You...in the back...I'll deal with YOU later.)

Anyway, I'm SO glad the big event isn't going to fall on a Tuesday!!!

So, on Thursday, we're going to party, here at the Cohagen Chronicles!
I'll wear my tiara!
We'll bake a cake!
Names will be dropped!
Honors will be handed out, left and right!

Be thinking of your favorite Chronicles posts, because that's what I'd like in the sticky notes. 
You have some time to go back and find it.  It is, after all, Tuesday. 
(You didn't have anything else going on today, did you?)

It gets crazier...

In ten days,I'm going to fly to a place I've never been, to stay with people I've never met, to eat food I can't pronounce, attend a concert I never dreamed I'd get to and try an activity I've never had the opportunity to try.

How cool is that?!

Or crazy.

Or both.

I like that sort of thing.


Once upon a time, there was a country girl from Broadus who had traveled the world and reconnected with a childhood friend, whose wife had a little blog called The Cohagen Chronicles.  The Chronicles were read surreptitiously and ravenously, because they were like home, only without all the guilt. 

After some time spent in sneaky reading, the girl from Broadus wrote the author of the Chronicles and confessed.  The author of the Chronicles had heard COUNTLESS stories of this chick (the Farmer's dad and her dad have been friends since college) and immediately forgave her and started a correspondence. 

The girls discovered a mutual love for (brace yourself) food, wine, travel, books, their home state of Montana and Texas singers, most especially Pat Green.  What are the odds?  Pretty good, actually. 

The girl from Broadus, as it turns out, is wicked to the core.
Evidenced by the menus she regularly sent to Montana, from French and European restaurants that she'd recently visited.
Evidenced by the picture of her personal wine cellar.
Evidenced by her rather casual mention of her hot tub.
Evidenced by sending e-tickets AND pictures of the CU-TTU game she attended, knowing full well the depth of my love for the Red Raiders.
Evidenced by her travel blog, of Europe.

In a fit of....what I can only surmise was winter insanity....the Farmer told me to use our credit card reward points to buy a ticket to Denver to see Sara Hagedorn, as my Christmas/birthday/Valentine's day present.

So I did!

Sara H., bless her heart, is in the middle of her doctoral (doctorate?) exams and I presume was too shocked and overwhelmed to come up with any sort of excuse to be out of the country at that time.  So she's stuck.  Ah, well....

BUT....GET THIS.....!!!!

Pat Green had the great grace to book a show at the Grizzly Rose (in Denver) at the exact perfect time.
That's RIGHT.
We have tickets.

You've never heard such screeching of delight!
And, I believe on one of the shaky-with-excitement emails, I counted no fewer than 56 exclamation points.
It's true.

AND she somehow convinced her husband Chad that we should go to a couple really incredible restaurants while I was visiting, as her Christmas present.

AND Chad (in a moment of what we can only surmise was winter insanity) mentioned going skiing while I was there.  Which I've always wanted to do, but never have.

AND we have several bookstores to visit.

AND then, there's the hot tub and wine cellar.

*sigh*

I certainly hope we get along...