4/17/12

Post 87: bulls will be bulls

Hey, guess what?! Today's post is my 87th... kind of crazy, right? Awesome, too. I wonder if I can reach 100 by my first 'blogiversary' this June.

It took me almost ten months to get here. Well, nine months and 27 days, to be exact. Which is about 43 weeks. Or 301 days. Or 7,224 hours. Or 433,440 minutes. Or 26,006,400 seconds, give or take. It just depends how you want to look at it.
{P.s. here's how I did that}.

I prefer keeping track via minutes, myself. Which probably has everything to do with my adoration for this. Sigh. Rent: I need to watch the movie again, and soon. Have I ever mentioned that I'm sort of a sucker for musicals?

Anyway, in honor of my 87 posts, my 433,440 minutes, and countless moments, I thought I'd take some time to better explain {this moment}, involving Chris and one of the black Angus bulls that currently resides on the hillside pasture behind our house.

So two Thursday afternoons ago, I found this big guy in a bit of a pickle.

Actually I found him in a hay bin .
Wah, wah, wahhh...

I'm not sure exactly how he  maneuvered himself into this small, confined space, but I'm sure it involved a reckless hay-eating frenzy and a small dose of stupidity.

And don't worry. It's OK to laugh at his expense- trust that your computer screen will serve as a protective, life-saving barrier from the wrath and terror of this huge, ferocious, Hell-raising beast.
Yup, he's a real Hell raiser alright. Can't you tell?

Anyway, despite his apparent comfort and lack of panic over his self-induced incarceration, this dude needed saving. So I called upon the one I knew who could release him from the pasturage prison: Mr. Christopher A. Fabin, farmer and bovine extraordinaire.

Here's how it happened...
Mission: Bull Bail Out commences.
Go, Chris, go!
Use those sculpted, farm-tanned guns of yours, baby...
Swoon.
Almost there. You can do it!
Drum roll, please...
And FREEDOM is yours, Mr. Angus.
Consider yourself rescued!
Awe, a friendly pat on the head to seal the deal, too?
Spoiled.
 
Hey, bull. You're free, unrestrained, liberated. Salvation is yours!
Now, run along and be with your friends, and do whatever it is that bulls do.
Or just sit there. That's fine, too.

Bulls will be bulls.

4/13/12

{this moment}

Inspired by SouleMama
A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

4/9/12

Easterness

Hello, friends! I hope that all of you had a wonderful Easter. I meant to post this yesterday, but I got caught up making these from my new P-Dub cook book.

They were delightful and really impressed my father in law. Which is hardly a difficult task, but when he blissfully bellowed, "Man, oh man, these mushrooms are good!" with a mouth full of my culinary skillz (yes, skills with a Z), I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Especially considering that Christopher wouldn't even try them... not one bite.

Despite my hubby's distaste for the mushrooms, my Easter was nice. I got to spend some QT with one of my nephews and all three of my nieces. We played a couple of games of air hockey, made doily flowers with neon pipe-cleaner stems, and even had a tickle fight.

I won the tickle fight.

I did miss my family though. Being away from them on holidays is tough, especially when I know they are indulging in cheesy scalloped potatoes (homemade ones) without me. I became insane with taste-bud envy when I found out, despite having just heavily loaded up on my own Easter feast, which included two breeds of potato.

I didn't care. I wanted them.

I still want them.

But thankfully it wasn't a total Warren-free weekend. My mom stayed over on Friday night. She surprised us with a bunch of grown-up goodies inside of my childhood Easter basket. There were chocolates, and cheeses, and wines, among other lovely things.

Oh, and crackers for the cheeses of course. She knows me so well.

Needless to say, I indulged... but it was Easter, er, the weekend of Easter, so I had to overeat. And it was worth it. I savored every single cheesy, salty bite and every sweet, chocolaty morsel.

Mmm. It was heavenly I tell you.

But the 'real' reason she came to visit was not to fatten us up with treats... or so she said.

Mom is spearheading our big landscaping project this spring, so she wanted to map it all out. I'm so thankful she offered to help because I could never do it alone. No way.

While I do have enough green on my thumb to keep potted houseplants and hanging flower baskets alive, I want more. Particularly more than over-grown weeds and piles of dirt surrounding our home. And since all of my mom's appendages on both hands are bright, electric green, she's just the woman to conquer this feat.

Here are some of her blooms...

See? Aren't they beautiful?!

Jealous.

It makes me wonder why this green gene wasn't passed down to me. I am like her in so many other ways. Maybe it skips a generation. Or maybe gardening is an acquired taste that I must learn to love, like sushi.

I'm hoping that's what it is, and that her guidance will instill a passion for soil and plants and watering cans in me, because this bouquet of dyed coffee-filter flowers is my idea of a spring-time centerpiece...
Yeah, it does the job, but real blooms from my very own beds would be amazing on the kitchen table for Easter.

Maybe next year.

At least I have the 'real thing' in bunny form for now...
Thank goodness for Durdy.

4/6/12

{this moment}

Inspired by SouleMama
A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

4/2/12

Silhouette cause & effect

Post inspired by guess who.

If I'd never gone to college, I wouldn't have developed a taste for beer.

If I'd never developed a taste for beer, I wouldn't have shamelessly needed beer money my senior year.

If I'd never shamelessly needed beer money my senior year, I wouldn't have gotten that part-time job at Boys & Girls Club in Homer City.

If I'd never gotten that part-time job at The Boys & Girls Club in Homer City, I wouldn't have ever met Chris.

If I'd never met Chris, I wouldn't have married him and lived happily ever after in the country.

If I'd never married him and lived happily ever after in the country, I wouldn't have worked in the office on the Fabin family farm.

If I'd never worked in the office on the Fabin family farm, I wouldn't have eaten so many peanut M&Ms.

If I'd never eaten so many peanut M&M's, I wouldn't have gained so much weight.

If I'd never gained so much weight, I wouldn't have wanted to lose it all (and then some).

If I'd never wanted to lose it all (and then some), I wouldn't have started dieting.

If I'd never started dieting, I wouldn't have felt so guilty about eating a pistachio-flavored cupcake with chocolate frosting before dinner last Thursday.

If I'd never felt so guilty about eating a pistachio-flavored cupcake with chocolate frosting before dinner last Thursday, I wouldn't have gone for a long, calorie-burnin' jog with Callie that night.

If I'd never gone for a long, calorie-burnin' jog with Callie that night, I wouldn't have detoured to the top of that hill to watch the sun set.

If I'd never detoured to the top of that hill to watch the sun set, I wouldn't have taken these silhouette shots of her with my smart phone.
If I'd never taken these silhouette shots of her with my smart phone, I wouldn't have been able to share them with you on my blog.

And if I'd never been able to share them with you on my blog, I might feel misunderstood. Because to properly illustrate the innards of my heart and soul would prove more challenging if these moments were absent from my life, my phone, my blog. And without the posting of these pictures, it would be difficult for you to truly understand what makes me tick. What I love. What brings me joy. What captivates me: the color and beauty of a sunset; the purity of a dog's love; and the simplicity of living in the country.

And that would just be a cryin' shame, so thank goodness for beer.

Or college.

Or shamelessness.

Or that part-time job.

Or Chris.

Or our marriage.

Or country living.

Or the farm.

Or peanut M&Ms.

Or my weight gain.

Or dieting.

Or that delicious cupcake.

Or my guilty conscious.

Or jogging.

Or Callie.

Or that hill.

Or that sunset.

Or my smart phone.

Or this blog.

Or you.

Or all of it... thank goodness.

3/30/12

{this moment}

Inspired by SouleMama
A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

3/28/12

When you meet your idol

Written by: Keri Fabin & Laura Kelly

Last Monday evening, in the cutest little bookshop, in the sweetest little town outside of Pittsburgh, two great friends met their idol, Ree Drummond- A witty pioneering gal from Oklahoma, with long, flowing red locks, one picturesque cowboy hubby and four adorable, freckle-faced children.
When they first learned that The Pioneer Woman herself was making a pit stop in the Golden Triangle on her latest book tour, they immediately agreed: It was a date. Their love, looovvvee, LOVE for good ol' P-Dub was (and is, now more than ever) undeniable, but for different reasons:

While Keri and her slightly taller, auburn-haired counterpart both fell in love with and married two great country guys, Laura's last date ended with her suitor confessing that he was engaged. Yup, engaged.

So Keri can relate to and admires this successful ranching, cooking, writing, blogging, show hosting, country loving, photo taking goddess of the domestic world. And Laura, well, she finds Ree's unbridled love for doughnuts appealing. In fact, after reading that one single post, she knew the she had found a woman to admire because there are, in fact, many things she would do for a Klondike Bar.

So with hearts full of adoration and excitement, Keri and Laura waited for over an hour and a half to meet their superstar and her family, and learned many things (some the hard way) in the process.
Here's a helpful list of tips if and when you, lucky you, are ever presented with the chance to meet your idol:
DO tweet her a welcome message. She just might tweet you back!

DON'T drink hot coffee beforehand. Your breath will stink. You will get hot. You will begin to perspire in an already nerve-racking situation. And you will develop embarrassing, damp underarm circles. Nobody likes a sweaty Betty.

DO wash your hair. 'Nough said.

DON'T fill up your gas tank before your trip there. Driving with the needle scandalously hovering over 'empty' really adds to the suspense of the experience.

DO be suspicious of your GPS. It won't always point you in the right direction. The 20 miles will turn into 30 and that little extra anticipation and excitement will turn into heartburn.

DON'T lie to your teacher about skipping class if it falls at the same time. Tell him that your overactive Catholic guilt won’t let you sleep at night if you don’t go. He’ll probably say, "The Pioneer Woman? My wife made me her maple cinnamon rolls! Tell her they were fabulous!"

DO touch up your make up in the car. You never know when Ree will decide that you’re the PERFECT match for Cowboy Josh, and snap of picture of you to show him later. This didn’t happen- maybe next time.
DON'T stalk her children. When you see three of her darling, well-mannered kids happily run into Starbucks across the street, don't follow them in. Don't even think about it. No matter how excited you are to see them, and no matter how irresistible you find their freckles, and no matter how much you want to buy them all a Mocha Frappuccino, and gush over how much you love their boots and flannel shirts. Do. Not. Do. It.
DON'T conspicuously gawk at their significant others. Marborlo Man is quite the stud muffin, but all drooling and ogling of this (or any) taken, masculine, chiseled, blue-eyed silver fox should be done from afar.
DON'T be a klutz. This means NEVER knocking off MM’s cowboy hat when taking a picture with him; it’s better to just look less-than desirable in the picture. It would be much like tugging on Super Man’s cape, spitting into the wind, pulling the mask off that old Lone Ranger. Or foolishly dipping a juicy, delicate piece of fillet mignon in ketchup- You just don't do those things.

DO make excuses. Use the tip above to rationalize why you look so 'eh' in all the pictures taken with her husband.
DON'T be socially awkward. SPEAK! Full sentences are your best bet. "Hi. I have two books. Um, for you to sign. Uh. Hi. Please. Will you sign them? Please. OK. Thank you" is not an acceptable conversation. And if you can't find the words, take advantage of the friend you brought along with a love for indulging in chatter with strangers as if they were long-lost bunk mates from summer camp. She'll tell them your life story for you in under five seconds, and you can continue being awkward.

DON'T wear heels. Wear flats. Standing in line for long periods of time is hard.
DON'T complain. When there are no cookies and/or water (as advertised) left by the time you get upstairs to meet your hero, you have no one to blame but yourself. You should have gotten there sooner. And do you even need a cookie? No, not really.
DO laugh at her jokes. When she makes a monkey face at the fare-haired child in line ahead of you, and his eyes begin to well up with tears as he hysterically screams in her face, laugh when she says, "Ree Drummond: Terrifying small children one city at a time". She'll appreciate it.

DO make friends with the people in line in front of and behind you. They’ll kindly capture a few Kodak moments for you.
DO give advice, but not overly helpful and precise advice. Impress Marlboro Man with your knowledge of the best hot sauce application technique to a Primanti’s Bros. sandwich. However, resist when you feel the urge to give overly specific directions from their hotel to sites around the city. She does not know that you used to work for the visitor's bureau right across the street. She'll thank you for the guidance because she's polite, but you risk creeping her out.
DO flatter her. "You're here, and you're real, and you're just adorable!!!" will suffice. She'll return the compliment by declaring to the world (er, the people in your vicinity) that you're 'just precious', and it will make your day.
DO indulge a delicious meal with your partner in crime. Particularly sushi. But not while waiting in the signing line... you should wait until afterward. But keep in mind that hunger can make you extra girly and giddy and delirious. So maybe eat before, too.
DON'T rush yourself. If you hurry to get there, you might accidentally leave your headlights on, killing your car battery. But if you do, call AAA and be sure to get a tow truck driver who calls you Darlin'.

DO wait with your forgetful buddy if her car battery dies. You will laugh. A lot.
Finally and most importantly:
DON'T forget to have an amazing time! And gush and relive and obsess over your once-in-a-lifetime experience for days and days. OK, who are we kidding- for weeks and weeks... or until you meet again.

3/26/12

Baby vogue

As you can clearly see, Emily, at the ripe age of six months, is already the epitome of cool in her Auntie Keri's chic, new shades. And the camera just loves her...
I'm a model. You know what I mean.
And I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Yeah, on the catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah.
I do my little turn on the catwalk.

3/23/12

{this moment}

Inspired by SouleMama
A Friday ritual. A single two photos - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

3/20/12

Hello, Spring.

Ahhh, Spring. You're here, and you're good. Oh, so good.

I can feel you. Hear you. Smell you. See you- finally.

You might be unusually premature this year, but you won't find any complaints from me. You are welcomed. Warmly welcomed, in fact, with open arms... widely reaching, unbarred arms.

You have nourished my soul, and provided me with an urgent push to put on my new sneaks, and get outside...
My new kicks- Like 'em?!
I do.
Outside to explore. To wander. To discover. To take in and enjoy all of nature's artistry. To hush the inner chatter, if only for a moment. To look outward, and appreciate my surroundings. To soak in all of the glory and goodness.

And I thank you for it.
Here are a few shots from a lovely excursion with Callie last week. She's the best little walking/hiking companion- the heartbeat at my feet.

I love her. She loves me. And we love our outdoor time together. l.o.v.e.

Anyway, I went a little camera crazy, but I couldn't resist. It was just so colorful and budding and beautiful and wonderful...
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