College football fans are perhaps the most superstitious, zealous people you'll ever encounter. Trust me.
You may have seen Green Bay Packer Cheeseheads and thought, "Whoa. Those dudes are over the top!" but they ain't nothin' compared to college football fans.
College football can take the ordinarily level-headed, conservative, laid-back person and turn him into....well....a very strange person who only wears red and black socks, inside out, unwashed for six games, stepping only on every third tile of their kitchen during commercials. This is because six games ago, his team won big and unexpectedly while this piece of wardrobe was on his body.
College football fans can remember incredible details during a season. The brand of potato chips and how many were in their hand when their team lost (Not buying BBQ Lays for the rest of the season), the exact outfit, right down to underwear and nail polish (if it applies), the mug they were drinking coffee from THAT morning, and the list goes on and on.
Here's the funny thing: when asked directly whether they think their little rituals actually affect the outcome of the game, they'll appropriately tell you, "Nah...that's crazy! It's the coach/players/weather conditions/etc." but in their hearts and heads, they KNOW that if they screw up the lucky sock and mug combo that day, that the team doesn't have a chance, no matter how well they play.
I am one of those....logically, I know that a woman in Montana who wears all the "right" clothes and flies the lucky flag and uses the lucky mug will NOT cause the Red Raiders to win the game. I said, logically. However, I can't help doing all those things, just-in-case-I-have-super-powers-that-even-I-don't-know-about to help them win. The handy thing is that I'm already considered crazy, so this is just overlooked in my house. Crazy is as crazy does, you know...
It gets WAY worse, though, in some people. Some fans actually schedule weddings and birth inductions around games, so they won't miss a thing! Painting a room in lucky colors, mowing the college logo into their lawn, naming their dog "Gator"....all these things. Don't take this as a prejudiced statement, it's just an observation, but I think college football fans are crazier in the south. Of course, this may be due to the fact that anyone who paints their chest in school colors in Montana will freeze into a solid block of ice in September, much less November!
Today, TTU is playing University of New Mexico, there. And yes, we're wearing the red and black, observing all the lucky rites, wishing we didn't have to preg test at the EXACT time of the game. (That's going to really throw the luck factor off. If they win, will we have to preg test EVERY away game? Tricky.)
Guns up!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Ten Commandments of College Football
From Southern Living Magazine September 2011 Issue
1. Thou shalt wear team colors. But think twice before adorning yourself with body paint—you don’t want to be the Internet photo that goes viral.
2. Thou shalt know—and sing—your team’s fight song from beginning to end. Sure, you can “watermelon watermelon” your way through the alma mater, but not memorizing the fight song is a fan failure.
3. Thou shalt keep your language clean (unless, of course, the quarterback fumbles on fourth and goal).
4. Thou shalt support the coach. Even when his calls are questionable.
5. Thou shalt be respectful to visiting teams. Remember: Southern ladies and gentlemen never boo.
6. Thou shalt set up a tailgate no fewer than three hours before kickoff (six if it’s a night game). Table linens and matching huggers encouraged, but not required.
7. Thou shalt theme your tailgate food around the visiting rival. Gator bites, anyone?
8. Thou shalt stay through the fourth quarter—rain or shine. That’s what ponchos are for, y’all.
9. Thou shalt respect the solemnity of Game Day by planning weddings, births, and other life events around the football schedule.
10. Thou shalt not covet other teams’ bowl games, national championships, or Heisman Trophy wins. There’s always next year.
Tomorrow, we discuss the paranoid mindset of the college football fan, in which they are responsible for the absolute victory or failure of their team.
This post is done in TTU Red Raiders colors, even though it is admittedly hard to read....(see above note on tomorrow's forthcoming post)
1. Thou shalt wear team colors. But think twice before adorning yourself with body paint—you don’t want to be the Internet photo that goes viral.
2. Thou shalt know—and sing—your team’s fight song from beginning to end. Sure, you can “watermelon watermelon” your way through the alma mater, but not memorizing the fight song is a fan failure.
3. Thou shalt keep your language clean (unless, of course, the quarterback fumbles on fourth and goal).
4. Thou shalt support the coach. Even when his calls are questionable.
5. Thou shalt be respectful to visiting teams. Remember: Southern ladies and gentlemen never boo.
6. Thou shalt set up a tailgate no fewer than three hours before kickoff (six if it’s a night game). Table linens and matching huggers encouraged, but not required.
7. Thou shalt theme your tailgate food around the visiting rival. Gator bites, anyone?
8. Thou shalt stay through the fourth quarter—rain or shine. That’s what ponchos are for, y’all.
9. Thou shalt respect the solemnity of Game Day by planning weddings, births, and other life events around the football schedule.
10. Thou shalt not covet other teams’ bowl games, national championships, or Heisman Trophy wins. There’s always next year.
Tomorrow, we discuss the paranoid mindset of the college football fan, in which they are responsible for the absolute victory or failure of their team.
This post is done in TTU Red Raiders colors, even though it is admittedly hard to read....(see above note on tomorrow's forthcoming post)
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Movin' cows...
This week, the focus of our days is movin' cows. We're getting ready to preg-test on Saturday, and need to start preconditioning the calves for shipping in a month, so we're bring all the bunches closer to the main place. The weather has cooled down nicely, so it's not blistering hot on the wheelers, which makes it nice!
Yesterday afternoon, we gathered a big bunch out of the northern-most pasture on the place. It is a wretched pasture to try to find cows...rough, mean country with lots of deep little draws and steep buttes. No place for 4wheelers, really; that's when I really wish we had horses! It's the kind of place where I spent most of my time trying to figure out what the odds were that my wheeler would roll (60%, strong) and writing my obituary in my head. I was thinking how sad it was going to be, that I died just a few days shy of my 40th birthday.
And the cows KNOW we can't get anywhere, which is the most maddening part! They stand there, ten feet away, on the other side of Death Divide and watch with unabashed amusement and mock me. I can just hear them thinking, "Alright, honey...you think I'm gonna move? You think you can get over here and make me? Bring it!" After a while, they get bored watching me try to grind around, especially when the wheeler doesn't actually roll, and start ambling off in the wrong direction. Another crazy-making tactic of theirs, designed to make me jump off the wheeler and stomp around, yelling ineffectively at them. I can tell by the set of their ears that they are laughing at me....and it probably IS funny, this woman jumping up and down on the edge of the wheeler-eatin' coullee, making empty threats about all-beef sausage...
It's exhausting, because my wheeler is a big, heavy Honda Foreman and my arms and shoulders are in constant tension. My legs are shock absorbers, especially when we're in country where there's a lot of potholes and sagebrush.
Speaking of sagebrush and vegetation, the grasses are so high in this pasture right now that one can't really see the crevices and holes! I hadn't realized it until W. pointed it out, but after doing this for so long, we intuitively know what types of grasses grow where and avoid those "hole grasses" before we get in a jackpot. Most of the time, that is. The tricky thing about all this is that we have to watch the terrain directly in front of us while scanning the country in the distance for cows. I am not nearly as good at this as the guys, being rather fond of the whole "come back in one piece" way of thinking.
We finally did end up getting all the pairs together and moved south, before dark, which was good. And today we have a couple little bunches to gather, but in MUCH nicer pastures. Updates will be forthcoming!
Yesterday afternoon, we gathered a big bunch out of the northern-most pasture on the place. It is a wretched pasture to try to find cows...rough, mean country with lots of deep little draws and steep buttes. No place for 4wheelers, really; that's when I really wish we had horses! It's the kind of place where I spent most of my time trying to figure out what the odds were that my wheeler would roll (60%, strong) and writing my obituary in my head. I was thinking how sad it was going to be, that I died just a few days shy of my 40th birthday.
And the cows KNOW we can't get anywhere, which is the most maddening part! They stand there, ten feet away, on the other side of Death Divide and watch with unabashed amusement and mock me. I can just hear them thinking, "Alright, honey...you think I'm gonna move? You think you can get over here and make me? Bring it!" After a while, they get bored watching me try to grind around, especially when the wheeler doesn't actually roll, and start ambling off in the wrong direction. Another crazy-making tactic of theirs, designed to make me jump off the wheeler and stomp around, yelling ineffectively at them. I can tell by the set of their ears that they are laughing at me....and it probably IS funny, this woman jumping up and down on the edge of the wheeler-eatin' coullee, making empty threats about all-beef sausage...
It's exhausting, because my wheeler is a big, heavy Honda Foreman and my arms and shoulders are in constant tension. My legs are shock absorbers, especially when we're in country where there's a lot of potholes and sagebrush.
Speaking of sagebrush and vegetation, the grasses are so high in this pasture right now that one can't really see the crevices and holes! I hadn't realized it until W. pointed it out, but after doing this for so long, we intuitively know what types of grasses grow where and avoid those "hole grasses" before we get in a jackpot. Most of the time, that is. The tricky thing about all this is that we have to watch the terrain directly in front of us while scanning the country in the distance for cows. I am not nearly as good at this as the guys, being rather fond of the whole "come back in one piece" way of thinking.
We finally did end up getting all the pairs together and moved south, before dark, which was good. And today we have a couple little bunches to gather, but in MUCH nicer pastures. Updates will be forthcoming!
Farmgirl Fashion Part II
She's killin' me....
(Someday, when she's 13, she's really going to be happy about these photos, don't you think?)
I'm glad she went for a less raggedy hat, and she's rockin' those stripe-y tights!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
For Shelly
(Besides, don't you think every blog should have a little eye candy in a post, once in a while?)
*sigh*
The List
A week or so ago, I picked up a Cowboys and Indians magazine outside the library in Jordan. Now you must know, I usually don't read this publication because of the complete dude-i-ness of it, but this one had Tom Selleck on the cover and I nearly swooned right there in the hall. (But that's another post, altogether...)
The magazine was predictably Holly-weird with jewel-encrusted boots, two-billion dollar "rustic" Montana homes near Bozeman, and toothpick models that looked completely mad at having to wear all the western clothes until they could get a real job with Vogue magazine. There WERE about 15 pictures of Tom Selleck, though, and that reduced the embarrassment of having it in my house!
Tucked in the middle of all the nonsense was a review of an album that Roseanne Cash put out in 2009, called The List. It turns out that at one point in her life, she was riding in the tour bus with her dad, Johnny Cash, and he mentioned a classic song that she'd never heard. He tossed out another song and she didn't know that one either. She says that her dad later sat down and wrote out a list of 100 essential country songs that he thought she should know. Sadly, she can't find the list now, but the album is a compilation of some of those that were on it.
The story alone piqued my interest, but there was also a mention of her cover of Sea of Heartbreak with Bruce Springsteen, of all people. I went to the computer, to YouTube, to see if I could find the song and sure enough, there it was! (If you click on the song title, above, you can listen to it, too.)
I couldn't stop listening.
I went to Amazon to find her MP3 album, checked out other tracks, and couldn't stop listening.
She puts her own spin on the classics, but does it while maintaining the integrity of the original song. I was astonished that she would dare cover Patsy Cline's She's Got You...talk about iconic...but she did, and it was great. Silver Wings, Long Black Veil, Heartaches by the Number, 500 Miles....brilliantly executed in Rosanne Cash's style.
I can't stop listening.
It's a mellow, classic country album, but anything but stodgy.
I'm shamelessly plugging it here on the Chronicles, because I want someone else to be excited by this find of mine!
The magazine was predictably Holly-weird with jewel-encrusted boots, two-billion dollar "rustic" Montana homes near Bozeman, and toothpick models that looked completely mad at having to wear all the western clothes until they could get a real job with Vogue magazine. There WERE about 15 pictures of Tom Selleck, though, and that reduced the embarrassment of having it in my house!
Tucked in the middle of all the nonsense was a review of an album that Roseanne Cash put out in 2009, called The List. It turns out that at one point in her life, she was riding in the tour bus with her dad, Johnny Cash, and he mentioned a classic song that she'd never heard. He tossed out another song and she didn't know that one either. She says that her dad later sat down and wrote out a list of 100 essential country songs that he thought she should know. Sadly, she can't find the list now, but the album is a compilation of some of those that were on it.
The story alone piqued my interest, but there was also a mention of her cover of Sea of Heartbreak with Bruce Springsteen, of all people. I went to the computer, to YouTube, to see if I could find the song and sure enough, there it was! (If you click on the song title, above, you can listen to it, too.)
I went to Amazon to find her MP3 album, checked out other tracks, and couldn't stop listening.
She puts her own spin on the classics, but does it while maintaining the integrity of the original song. I was astonished that she would dare cover Patsy Cline's She's Got You...talk about iconic...but she did, and it was great. Silver Wings, Long Black Veil, Heartaches by the Number, 500 Miles....brilliantly executed in Rosanne Cash's style.
I can't stop listening.
It's a mellow, classic country album, but anything but stodgy.
I'm shamelessly plugging it here on the Chronicles, because I want someone else to be excited by this find of mine!
Maggie has a sense of style that is incomparable.
Really.
And I'm not saying it's great or awful, or anything like that....the only word I can use here IS "incomparable"!
This morning, she hustled back to her bedroom after breakfast and put together an outfit that didn't exactly match, but didn't exactly clash, either. She was so tickled with the results and felt especially fine! And it was pretty funky second grade fashion, but if she likes it, good enough.
HOWEVER....
She decided it was a bit cool out (47 degrees/she's right) so she dug around in the winter drawer and found a cap and gloves to complete the randomly chic ensemble.
Really.
And I'm not saying it's great or awful, or anything like that....the only word I can use here IS "incomparable"!
This morning, she hustled back to her bedroom after breakfast and put together an outfit that didn't exactly match, but didn't exactly clash, either. She was so tickled with the results and felt especially fine! And it was pretty funky second grade fashion, but if she likes it, good enough.
HOWEVER....
She decided it was a bit cool out (47 degrees/she's right) so she dug around in the winter drawer and found a cap and gloves to complete the randomly chic ensemble.
The black scarf is actually an added accessory to the original outfit, because one is never really dressed without that touch of elegance. It says "This girl knows how to make an otherwise ordinary (?) outfit POP!"
Or something.
And I'm sure I don't have to point out the John Deere emblem on the gloves...
See how pleased she is?
And of all the caps she could've chosen, the raggedy old brown one lends a certain note of understated modish ragamuffin princess.
Now, I know there are mothers who insist on their kids wearing matching outfits to school, and goodness knows I like things pulled together myself, but Maggie and I butt heads over so many things that I decided I would only intervene in her fashion choices if they were inappropriate for the weather or the event.
Besides, it's really interesting to see what she thinks is cool and what makes her feel pretty!
Stay tuned for the frog outfit....
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Zucchini and Olive Flatbread from bookclub, for Sara H.
Total Time: 35 min.
Prep: 8 min.
Cook: 27 min.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings .
Level: Easy
Zucchini and Olive Flatbread Recipe
courtesy Food Network, Giada de Lorentis
Ingredients:
All-purpose flour, for dusting
1 pound pizza dough
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil plus extra, for drizzling
1 large (8 ounce) zucchini, trimmed and cut into 1/8-inch slices
2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano leaves, divided
1 1/2 cups (4 ounces) shredded mozzarella 1 cup (2 1/2 ounces) grated Pecorino Romano
1/2 cup pitted sliced black olives (Traci used kalamata olives)
Directions: Place an oven rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.
On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough into a 12-inch circle. With a pastry brush, brush 1 tablespoon of the oil over the dough. Using the tines of a fork, prick the dough all over. Arrange the zucchini slices in a single layer on top of the dough. Drizzle the zucchini with oil. Bake the dough for 18 to 20 minutes until the edges begin to brown. Remove the bread from the oven, sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of oregano, the cheeses, and the olives. Bake for 5 to 7 minutes until the cheeses are melted and bubbly.
Sprinkle the flatbread with the remaining oregano, cut into wedges and serve.
©Television Food Network G.P.
Prep: 8 min.
Cook: 27 min.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings .
Level: Easy
Zucchini and Olive Flatbread Recipe
courtesy Food Network, Giada de Lorentis
Ingredients:
All-purpose flour, for dusting
1 pound pizza dough
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil plus extra, for drizzling
1 large (8 ounce) zucchini, trimmed and cut into 1/8-inch slices
2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano leaves, divided
1 1/2 cups (4 ounces) shredded mozzarella 1 cup (2 1/2 ounces) grated Pecorino Romano
1/2 cup pitted sliced black olives (Traci used kalamata olives)
Directions: Place an oven rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.
On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough into a 12-inch circle. With a pastry brush, brush 1 tablespoon of the oil over the dough. Using the tines of a fork, prick the dough all over. Arrange the zucchini slices in a single layer on top of the dough. Drizzle the zucchini with oil. Bake the dough for 18 to 20 minutes until the edges begin to brown. Remove the bread from the oven, sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of oregano, the cheeses, and the olives. Bake for 5 to 7 minutes until the cheeses are melted and bubbly.
Sprinkle the flatbread with the remaining oregano, cut into wedges and serve.
©Television Food Network G.P.
Password Protected
When I read that phrase "password protected", I groan to myself.
It means, essentially, that every account I have is well-protected...from me.
Everything requres a password, now; I'm sorta surprised we don't have to choose one to access our refrigerator. And I understand the need for them...of course I want my very important information protected! I mean, what would I do if someone hacked my Good Reads account and changed my reading progress on Innocents Abroad from page 203 to 165? I'd never recover...
I didn't used to mind the passwords. I'd use the same one on everything, no big deal. My fingers would automatically type the magic words, I'd get in and post a story to Blogger, badda-bing badda-boom. But now I have to come up with passwords of varying lengths, symbols and letter combos, GPS location, etc. I always get yelled at by the computer because I come up with a brilliant password to my way of thinking, but it does not fall under their rule of 6-21 letters, two symbols, three numbers, and the name of my sister's mother-in-law's first dog. Tricky.
When I actually DO stumble upon that magic combination and type it twice, I'm disinclined to write it down, unless it's for work. I try to keep a list of my personal passwords, somewhere, but usually need a map to find the secret special hiding spot for the list...(so no one can find it and abuse the ToysRUs account). I am one of those that the businesses thoughtfully developed that little "Forgot your password?" button for. Why, yes; yes I DID! But in order to access the sweet "here, moron, is your 22 character password, AGAIN" message, I have to remember the password to my email. Which I just changed. DRATS!
It means, essentially, that every account I have is well-protected...from me.
Everything requres a password, now; I'm sorta surprised we don't have to choose one to access our refrigerator. And I understand the need for them...of course I want my very important information protected! I mean, what would I do if someone hacked my Good Reads account and changed my reading progress on Innocents Abroad from page 203 to 165? I'd never recover...
I didn't used to mind the passwords. I'd use the same one on everything, no big deal. My fingers would automatically type the magic words, I'd get in and post a story to Blogger, badda-bing badda-boom. But now I have to come up with passwords of varying lengths, symbols and letter combos, GPS location, etc. I always get yelled at by the computer because I come up with a brilliant password to my way of thinking, but it does not fall under their rule of 6-21 letters, two symbols, three numbers, and the name of my sister's mother-in-law's first dog. Tricky.
When I actually DO stumble upon that magic combination and type it twice, I'm disinclined to write it down, unless it's for work. I try to keep a list of my personal passwords, somewhere, but usually need a map to find the secret special hiding spot for the list...(so no one can find it and abuse the ToysRUs account). I am one of those that the businesses thoughtfully developed that little "Forgot your password?" button for. Why, yes; yes I DID! But in order to access the sweet "here, moron, is your 22 character password, AGAIN" message, I have to remember the password to my email. Which I just changed. DRATS!
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