Retirement: World's longest coffee break.

I know you might think you have cool parents, but honestly I don't even think you can compare. 

Once upon a time the pretty cheerleader met and fell in love with the cool kid in school. Cool Kid did everything from football to Key Club (good thing it was considered cool then, because he would be SOL these days) . Pretty Girl was a drop dead gorgeous babe and inevitably she just had to marry this Hunk, and then after a good 25 years with each other, I came along...practice makes perfect, they say.

I guess anything and everything that made this cool kid cool flew out the window when he became a dad. That's a lie; he's always been awesome. But something in him led him to believe that every shirt had to be tucked in, hair had to be well groomed, and work came well before any sort of play.  Fast forward to post retirement.  The man is as happening as a Hippie in the 60's. His hair is as free flowing as mine, and somehow we are sporting a similar style haircut. For Father's Day, we went Go-Kart-Racing, and today he conquered the Zip Line. Cool Kid is back in style, and all of the sudden he's part of the "it crowd". I absolutely love this guy. Of course, my Mamma never lost her charm and is as beautiful and spunky as ever.  Though she won't be performing any cheer leading stunts, since her fear of heights anything daring  set in. She still drives the occasional go-karts, drives the jeep, and plays photographer for many of these modern day "Pop Shenanigans". I'm kinda loving this retirement stage of theirs.

(anyone who  knows my Pop: Can you EVER remember his hair being anywhere remotely close to this long?)

                                       

Poppa

Brent waving,

Me holding on for dear life.

Cheap Labor

There is nothing better on a perfect no wind, no snow, above 60 degrees Wyoming day, than to be outside...with your H.H.D's (husband, horses, and dogs) Brent mowed the lawn while the heneymoes and I played in the water. They are recently recovering from a serious case of worms and the winter shag, so to relive them of the summers new found heat, I bathed them. The are hanging out at our house today working as free labor. As Brent calls them; "Free Lawn Mowers". And in a bit, we will ride off into the Sunset of Lyman, Wyomin'. How 'bout them Cowgirls. 

Cheyenne 

Kuruk

Oso

Zip Watching over his Herd. 

Beauty Is Pain, But Love Makes It Worth It.

A year holds so much more than 365 days. And roughly 365 memories ago, on June 12^th, I married Prince Charming…shining armor, white horse and all. Each day over the past year has been so different than the one before. We have had adventures of all kinds, crossed so many obstacles, and accomplished so many dreams.  In the spirit of tradition, we went to Flaming Gorge for some fun in the sun.  Though this year’s anniversary present from him to me caused more physical pain and tears than I ever thought I wanted…it’s hard to believe this is how he chose to show me his love. But in the end; it was totally worth it. ;)

Chop Chop

A few months ago, the little town of Lyman started covering its telephone poles, bulletin boards and mailboxes full of “SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR PET” flyers. Yes, the chop off your manhood and take away your femininity mobile was coming to town. Ah-ha! this. will. solve. everything. everything. What kind of male dog runs away if he has nothing to run to! Appointment set. And as of June 10, 2011 our boys became a little less manly, and a little more….neutral.  Now the funny part about this wasn’t the man-to-man chat Brent had with them moments before their big day, or it wasn’t the jokes about enjoying their last moments as real men and their seemingly understanding of the going-ons. Though those were all highlights of the times leading up the event…the best part of the entire experience was indeed the cones. The Cones of Shame, more precisely.

A dog hopped up on drugs is funny…two dogs on drugs with giant cones on their heads is even better.  The concept of walking, mixed with depth perception issues, unsteady legs, and the alleged cones, makes for a night full of pure entertainment. They spent the first few hours with their heads hung in shame. Tank dosed in and out of consciousness and slumped over at a moment’s notice. Zip just whined. And whined and whined. 

The following stories can only be explained by picture:

Nothing will separate Tank from his food. Come heave or hell, this kid will eat. Let a cone intervene, and pure desperation sets in. As he walked over to his food canister and upon realizing he couldn’t get to the food because of his cone, he grudgingly rested the upper rim of the cone against the food dispenser and sighed in defeat. And sat there for a good five minutes without moving, only letting out a little groan every now and then. 

Zips need for constant attention and acceptance led him to a “foot-in-mouth” problem. Literally. He would put my foot in between his head and his cone so he could have one on one physical contact. Well, when someone would call him, or he heard a noise, or simply wanted to walk away…he couldn’t quite figure out how to separate from my foot, and inevitably get stuck.

And to be expected Tank whined his way out of his Cone of Shame for more than a day, and Zip obliterated his to pieces.

Regardless, all wounds are healing nicely….but their egos have taken a hard hit.