Rope a Winner
So it’s your turn to host the clan for the Thanksgiving extravaganza and you’re trying to decide if there is a way to get the house in presentable “haven’t seen these people in a year” shape without tearing the whole place down and starting over. The key to your success is in the details. When you clean your house remove all of the current accent pieces, the ones you have had out since you moved into the house, and start fresh. Clear the pillows from the petrified sofa and the colorless vase from the mantle and begin your adventure into tasteful, always inviting, cowgirl chic. A pillow with leather fringe and a pounded metal, bling ridden receptacle for your mums will bring new life to the old walls, without the hours of work that you should spend making your pies. Dress your house for the holiday in a way that will have them stopping and smiling and thinking how truly clever you are. Pine Country Feed will set you up in a quick morning’s stop, and send you on your way with a treasure trove of wow!
Behold the Horse
Hollywood loves horses, in every form. They love the horse that can win a race, or the horse that stands by his man until the last shot is fired. They have given us talking horses, horses that fly, singing and dancing horses, carousel horses and horses that have broken our hearts. They are the favorite means of transportation in an entire genre of movies, and most of the favorite film stars of the forties, fifties and sixties ended up on a horse at one time or another. Horses are back in style on the silver screen with westerns making a come-back over the last fifteen years. Today’s westerns are more violent and the main characters never bathe, but one thing is consistent with the early western. The best friend of the cowboy, rancher, farmer, or settler is still the horse. The west simply wouldn’t have been settled without them. The four legged beasts are beautiful, noble, intelligent, usually gentle pictures of the soul of an era that was misbehaved, poorly planned and truly brutal. When everyone else was spitting, drinking too much, gun fighting in the streets, the horse brought a grace and sureness to America’s wild picture of the west that makes us love them. They are the spirit of what we wish we could be; strong, sleek, peaceful. And they do talk by the way – you just have to listen really carefully.
Missing the Wild
So we have recently found the choices for big cinema entertainment wanting, and we have finally put our finger on the problem. The movies tend to parade leading men across the screen who obviously spend a good portion of their time in the gym, not necessarily bad. But we are bothered by the fact that only a small handful of the real leaders could manage a ride on a horse. They simply wouldn’t look right astride one of the glorious equines of the Hollywood 40s and 50s and we can’t even imagine most of them being able to get on the horse without major injury. Cowboy movies, the real westerns that put the country west of the Mississippi on the map, needed men to be rugged, not fit necessarily, but tough, and since the horse has been removed as one of Hollywood’s main characters, that element of grit, of rock solid, take no prisoners, don’t make me pull my six shooter persona has faded to black. There have been a few westerns in the past decade that have proven that there are a few of those boys left, but too few to our liking. Somehow being able to download the secrets of the defense department before the guy in the suit walks into the room just doesn’t give off the same aura as a man who can control his horse with the reigns in his teeth, riding at the speed of locomotion, while he wields both of his guns with the accuracy of a sharpshooter. Imagine.
Cowboy Forever
If you’re beside yourself trying to decide what to be for Halloween, worry no more. Be a cowboy, in a long duster and hat with boots and spurs, and it might be helpful if you could pack a six shooter. It is said that houses that have been converted from barns to houses are often haunted by cowboys of the early west. They are never mean or scary; they just kind of reside in the barn/house harmlessly watching over the place. People who lived in one such house said that they often heard spurs jangling on the hardwood floor, and there was a distinct smell of horses and hay and well worn tack in the kitchen. One woman, awake in the early hours of the morning, saw one of the duster clad apparitions walking down the hallway between her living room and dining room and as he passed he looked her way and tipped his hat then vanished through the back door. It’s good to know that true to form, the cowboy, even a ghost of a cowboy, is friendly and polite even when he is haunting a house. Have a great Halloween weekend!
Not So Wild West
Academy award winning actor, Henry Fonda, awarded the sixth “Greatest Male Film Star of All Time” by the American Film Institute, played a variety of roles, in films that are considered classics, worth seeing again, like Jezebel, Twelve Angry Men, Grapes of Wrath and Mr. Roberts. He was a classic actor, always underplaying his role, but owning the screen nonetheless. So when the American Western became the film genre that everyone wanted, Henry Fonda found a way to make it work. In some ways he wasn’t believable as a cowboy. His features were a bit too refined and his voice had a compelling gentle timbre that didn’t ring true in the old west. Still, he pulled off some of his greatest roles in the saddle in The Tin Star, How the West Was Won, Fort Apache and Warlock, carving out for himself a place as the rational cowboy, the one who thought before he pulled his gun, and perhaps that is what movie goers came to love best about him. He brought civility to the dusty streets of Hollywood’s Wild West, and a bit of un-fussy refinement, and that was refreshing. He wasn’t one of those actors who seemed to be born with a Stetson on their head, but when he decided to wear one, it fit.
Cowboy Love
We have often wondered what it is about the legendary American cowboy that is so appealing to the world of 2011. They were people covered with calluses and basically held together by dirt, they rarely had money, many of them drank too much, they smelled of sweat both human and equine, they thought of spitting as a conventional past time and guns were their favorite accessory, and yet we love them and sometimes wish we were one of them. It is something about their grit, their willingness to keep going when the herd has run amuck, their quiet way of owning the room, their “not afraid of hard work, get it done” attitude that we think of as American fable. We want them to win, to get the girl, to love their horse, to kill the bad guy – and we want to believe that they do it all with the best of intentions and a heart of gold, because they belong to the roots of who we are. They are fully American and totally bigger than life and that makes them the center of our dreams and the thing we love to believe in. Just a bunch of guys who wrestled cows and rode the range and we can’t get enough of them.
Dying Words
When Anna Sewell wrote her novel, Black Beauty, it was an immediate hit, selling 50 million copies, making it one of the best-selling novels of all time. It is the story of a horse, told by a horse and it threads a heartwarming and adventuresome tale of life in 1877 England from the viewpoint of the four legged laborers that kept civilization moving in those days. The book, besides being an intriguing read, addresses the humane, or inhumane as it were, treatment of animals, and specifically horses in that time. Horses were for work and the heroin of the story, Black Beauty, struggles through many different owners and works more than her share until one day she lands in the hands and heart of someone who truly loves her for the remarkable creature she is. Sewell’s story, though a fiction, stirred a new commitment to the proper treatment of animals and put horses in a place of dignity that many had not recognized before. By giving Beauty human qualities and a relatable, tender personality Sewell succeeded in carving out a place in our lives for these noble, intelligent beings that pays them the homage they deserve. It is notable that Anna Sewell wrote this book as she was dying, and just five months after its publication she passed, making Black Beauty her first and last novel and her legacy.
Cowboy Strong
What is it about us that makes us love a cowboy? Maybe it’s because we think the truth is important, and pretention a waste of energy. There is something right about the man who gets up in the morning knowing that his day will be full and his exhaustion at the end of it complete, that the people he cares about are counting on him to work the land and move the cattle despite the elements. We like that he doesn’t try to impress us with his money or his education, because our opinion doesn’t really matter to him. His goal is to look himself in the mirror every evening and know that he left everything he had on the range, and tomorrow he will get up and do it again, because it is just what he does. Not to impress anyone, but because he wants to do it. He cares about the land and the livestock and treating both of them with respect. And when the sky grows dark and the ranch rests quietly he’ll sleep in his bed, knowing he did it right for another day, and every callous was worth it.
I Do
The view from the barn loft was one of her favorites. The expansive open play of the ranch mingled with the smells of dry hay and horse sweat made her think that maybe the world wasn’t changing as quickly as she thought. There was something about the feel of her boots against the dusty floorboards that made her know she could stand regardless of the onslaught. From the barn loft she could gain perspective and maybe make sense of the big world out there, sure that regardless of where life took her, the barn would still stand, straight as a reed, weathered and worn and true. The new days ahead of her weren’t nearly so ominous when she viewed them from the loft. They were just days, and they couldn’t change the fact of who she was, or what she believed, or where she was going, because when it came down to it, she was a country girl, raised on knowing the feel of good leather in your hand, your eyes shaded under your brim, the strength of a horses back under your jeans. Wherever she went, she took those things with her, and she would take them today.
Just West of Reality
When the “Western” faded from television the reasons were obvious. People wanted to see car chases, not posses, and it became unfashionable to shovel beans and slabs of pork into your mouth without thought of your cholesterol reading. The concept of running your own ranch without benefit of a tax accountant, or a single sheriff and his deputy representing the entire law enforcement structure of a town became unfathomable to a world connected by their thumbs to the four corners of the earth. Sitting around a campfire swilling down the last of the coffee without a cell phone interrupting the conversation is no longer a reality in our world. But somehow with the endless police dramas on television today, there isn’t anything that quite measures up to that click of the revolver pulled from the holster, and Sheriff Matt Dillon saying “you’re coming with me to Dodge”, and the crook just knew he was done, and better than that, so did we.
Common Ground
From the very beginning it was you and her, no cell phones or staff meetings. You and the one who understood that your soul was a priceless thing that deserved a moment of rest, a bit of understanding and a good amount of listening. When all the others didn’t get it, walked away, shook their heads the two of you stood by, undaunted, knowing that your answers would not be found on the bottom line, or even in the policy report but on the solitary journey, through the field, over the ridge to your point of perspective, where reality waits. The place you go together to remember what actually matters, and why you bother with all of this in the first place. She always knows right where to go, exactly what you need to find that place inside that assures you that you know what you’re doing, that you knew all along. She takes you to the place where you can believe again.
Horse Talk
Many of us believe that horses portray human-like qualities, and are sometimes better companions than most people, and it was never more true than in the early nineteen sixties when Mr. Ed, the talking horse took over broadcast television. His show only lasted for four seasons but he is still spoken of today as the “talking horse”. Mr. Ed’s off-screen name was Bamboo Harvester and he worked up until he got his big break in Hollywood as a parade horse. Clearly born for show business, Mr. Ed did most of his scenes in one take, looking right into the camera. They fed him peanut butter to get him to move his mouth as though he was speaking, and that seemed to signal him that cameras were rolling and it was his moment. He was known as a great add libber, inserting himself in scenes when he was afraid he was being upstaged. He seemed to love working with the Alan Young, who played his owner Wilbur, and would often wait to perform “properly” until Wilbur came onto the set. Fearing that his death would break the hearts of too many young fans, the actual date of his passing has never been publicized, but they say it was a quiet death, full of dignity and affection, just like Mr. Ed himself.
Kick Up Your Heels
So do you have your boots for the Rodeo yet? You know it’s this Saturday. Seriously girls! Get your feet in gear and get over to Pine Country Feed, where there are boots just right for your cowgirl feet. And while you’re at it, grab a hat for your adorable cowgirl head. Seriously!
Ride ‘em
It may be the gold in the buckle for the competing cowboys but for the rest of us it’s the turkey legs and funnel cakes, the seats so close you can feel the spray of the dirt as the bull races by, it’s a night in June with the lights on the arena and the clowns in the barrels, the flags flying and the crowd cheering, hoping that eight second buzzer will ring before our cowboy loses his grip. The Evergreen Rodeo, which is rodeo up close and personal is a celebration of the American spirit, an evening to see something that most of us never come close to, a parade of horses in their finest regalia, and royalty in satin and sequence, and we love it. Bring on the bulls and the broncs and the thrill of the Wild West. It’s the rodeo and we love it!
Step Lively
On a magical morning in June, June 18th to be exact, if you’re on Evergreen Parkway in the early morning hours and you look to the eastern ridge across the road you’ll see a site worth the wait. One at a time and all in a row, horses of every breed and distinction will come over the hill and down the road as they and their stately riders join the Evergreen Rodeo Parade. They are beautiful and noble as they make their way along the parade route down Main Street to applauding crowds and waving flags, and despite the recent scare in equestrian circles, they will be here this year to thrill onlookers and remind us that this country was built on their backs, and they are perhaps the best friends we have ever had. It is a piece of Americana that cannot be ignored, because today, and for hundreds of years in our history, it has been the same. When the weather turns warm and there is something to celebrate, Americans will be there, to make it happen, and no matter how many times we see it, the Rodeo Parade, with the fabulous horses, make us want to stand up and be proud. The massive four-legged beasts are part of us, and no matter how old we get, we will stop to watch them strut by.
Soul
You believe that you know me, and in some ways you do, but there will always be that wild part of me that roams the hills and travels the broad plains that you will never know. It is true, I belong to you, but not because you have paid the price to own me, but because I have chosen you to be the one that I will carry into that great vast place saved only for horse and rider. You are here because I brought you here, and I have decided to let you stay.
Dark Night
The rain poured down in a crushing deluge, flooding the gullies to a muddy brim, washing away any remnant of the late spring afternoon. He hefted his duster onto his shoulders and pulled his hat down a bit closer, knowing the chance of it letting up was slim. His boots sloshed through the puddles that were growing as every minute passed, as he consciously took higher steps hoping to avoid a wash over onto his socks. Nights like this were mean and cold enough to take the breath right out of a man. He imagined the fire waiting for him back inside, wished he was there now, but he forged on toward the barn. The big old door creaked under the strain of the extra water as he opened it just enough to squeeze his way in. He shone his flashlight along the stalls, the mare snorted a hello and continued to chew, the Pinto stomped his hoof against the floor board. Then he saw her, the little girl curled up in the corner. He squatted on his boots and clapped his hands together. She put her head up and immediately began to wag her tail. “C’mon, Daisy,” he said as she jumped into his arms. “I couldn’t figure out where you were,” he explained as he carried the spaniel back to the house, “then I realized I had let the door close before you were out. Sorry, girl,” he said into the top of her head. She licked the rain off his face as they stepped back into the light of cabin, glad to be home together again.
Cowgirl Heart
There’s a reason I’m a cowgirl, actually a few reasons. It’s about the horses which sometimes are more human than people, and about that relationship of trust with an animal that speaks to your soul. There’s an independence in riding and thinking and being part of the sky and the trail and knowing that you belong where it’s just a little bit wild. I like the feel of jeans that are saddle worn and boots that can haul during the day and dance after dark, and I like being part of a great sorority of women who have stood for family and hard work and knowing when to let their hair down. It does my heart good to know that I live in a country that was settled by people with spirit, men and women who valued the cost of freedom and who believed in making their own way. Cowgirls are so much more than the blingy belts and the sassy hats and the jeans that are made for curves, but all those things say that we are who we are and we’re proud of it. Give me my horse and my home, and a man who can keep up with my dreams, and I’ve pretty much got heaven on earth.
Cowgirls on Parade
The Evergreen Rodeo is around the corner, Father’s Day weekend as a matter of fact, and part of the fun is showing up in the right garb. Don’t look like a cowgirl wannabe, in jeans that are too blue and too plain, and a polo shirt. Pine Country has the jeans you need with just the right amount of bling and the perfect fit, and a studded t-shirt that will give you the look. There is a good chance that you will need a jacket, though it be June, the evenings can be cool, and if you’re going to wear a jacket it better be made of denim, and it better look like it has been to more than one round up. And don’t forget your head – yes you’ll want a hat – it’s the best part, and you’ll look like you were born to the life. You’ll need boots but don’t panic, we’ve got boots. Gorgeous boots that you’ll want to wear to the bull riding, the dance afterwards and the party after that. Finally, don’t go to the rodeo without your jewelry – bracelets, pendants and chains, earrings and even a snappy watch. When the cowboys ride into town they’ll need something to think about while they’re being thrown from the back of a horse, and it may as well be you.
Best Experienced Together
There is something about horses and kids that make for a great marriage. It is like the story of the gorilla who loved the kitten, the mammoth being, meekly deferring to the tiny one, the one that could be swept away with one aggressive snort. Yet they stand together, nose to nose, one in deference to the other, because the horse, in its four legged splendor seems to understand that this smaller than average two legged creature is precious in some way, a treasure of some kind, and their keeping is a tremendous responsibility. It is the gentle and wise heart of the horse and innocent nature of the child that makes the mixture ideal, even magical. 
See them together and you will feel a smile spread across your lips, a lift of happiness in your step. Their gift is the perfect combination of generosity and delight and they are meant to be together.
Cowboy Culture
So you’re wondering why in a world where speed and riches are everything I would choose to be a cowboy. Why would I choose to work until I’m blistered and bruised and covered with dirt, and what is it about me that makes me think it’s okay to wear jeans for my work clothes and jeans for my church clothes and jeans when I take my best girl to dinner. You wanna know why a guy like me, with a Masters Degree in Business, would spend long nights in the barn during calving season, and longer days in the winter getting hay to the herd on the upper forty, and why I would rather shake hands with a man whose palms are worn by the reins of a horse than one who has a cell phone attached to his ear. You can’t figure what makes someone like me tear up when I see a soldier salute the flag and why I think of a summer afternoon on the porch as paradise, why I wouldn’t think of leaving the house without my hat. The answer is a simple one, but it’s the only explanation I can think of. Truth is … I was born this way.
Horse Sense
The great thing about cowgirls is that their refinement doesn’t come from stilted manners and insincere graciousness. A cowgirl’s demeanor is one of true warmth and kindness of heart. She carries herself with an air of confidence, and it has something to do with the horses. A horse knows when you’re shaking in your boots, or if you don’t really like him and his insistence on the real thing is woven into the way a cowgirl conducts herself, being who she is, because she knows that if she can handle the four legged love of her life she can certainly handle anything on two legs. She is sure of herself but secure enough to ask for help, because strength doesn’t come from going it alone, it comes from valuing the good in others. Cowgirls are all about putting everything they have into the ride, not quitting until the last bale is loaded, seeing the rough terrain ahead, hanging on tight and giving it a kick, because at the end of the day cowgirls know that life is best lived at a full gallop so that you can really appreciate the meandering walk at the top of the hill.
As Legend Has It
The great thing about the days before video cameras and fast assimilation of information is that you could make your personal history be anything you wanted it to be, which was exactly what Calamity Jane, Wild West legend, did. Much of Jane Canary’s life as she tells it is unfounded or uncorroborated, including her romance with Wild Bill Hickok. Jane had a tremendous crush on Wild Bill and after his death made claims that he was the father of her daughter Jane, whom she had given for adoption to Mr. and Mrs. Jim O’Neill with only a couple problems. There was never any record of a baby or of an adoption, or of the O’Neills. She was a true frontier woman, however, able to shoot and hunt, and basically care for her five siblings when they were left orphaned at the death of their parents. She did everything she could to put food in their mouths, working as a dish washer, dance hall girl, a cook, a waitress, an ox team driver, a nurse and a prostitute. She claimed her nickname, Calamity Jane, came from her single handedly saving Captain Egan during a cavalry battle after which he gave her the name. There was never a record of his rescue, or the battle she claimed to be fighting in, or any record of Jane ever fighting in a battle alongside the cavalry at all. It was believed by most that her warning to men that they would come up against “calamity” if they messed with her is what actually gave her the title. Despite her penchant for exaggeration, or even outright lying, Jane was popular in western culture. Though illiterate and “imaginative” she was pretty, warm hearted and generous to a fault, and one of the west’s most industrious, hard-working characters on record.
