This picture of my Dad arrived in my inbox this morning.  How perfect after yesterday’s post about cowboys.  My Dad has been a photographer for as long as I can remember.  He used to teach it exclusively, but now he teaches graphic arts and multi-media. 

What I’m saying is that my Dad likes to send me pictures and videos.  But since me and my family has lived with this guy for all of our lives, we’re all sick of him taking pictures of us.  So he’s left taking pictures of himself.  These pictures are mostly taken early in the morning-before anyone else is awake.

I’m sure he took this particular picture early this morning when he went out to feed his horses.  He probably thought it was a beautiful morning, so he decided to take his camera out with him.  I’m sure he took a few shots of the sun, maybe one or two of his horses. 

Then he ended up in the barn and started taking pictures of himself.

He probably tried a few different poses.  You know, he had to figure out the lighting, and the best place to set the camera before he started the timer.  He may have even moved the hay around to get the best shot.

It’s how an innocent photo shoot turns into an 18 year old girls first nude photos. 

The lighting isn’t very good with that silly shirt on.  Why don’t you take it off?

Do you mind if we let the horses in?  How about the pigs and chickens?

It’s a good thing my Dad left his shirt on.  And that he didn’t let the horses in.

Am I the only person out there that loves to read cowboy books?  I don’t mean cheesy cowboy romance novels, or anything like that.  I mean full-on cowboy books, the kind written by Larry McMurtry.  Have you read his Lonesome Dove books?  I can’t even remember how many times I’ve read “Lonesome Dove”.  I’m a sucker for a tale about cowboys traveling across America with a hooker in tow.  Especially when those cowboys are played by the hott Rick Schroder.  (See, I’m totally a 12 year old girl and still in love with Ricky.)

A few years ago I read the prequels and was equally impressed with them.  Instead of tales about crossing the plains-we heard about cowboys being skinned alive by Indians gone bad. 

The King is forever making fun of me and my love for the cowboy books.  He rolls his eyes any time he sees me picking up a new one to read.  I try to convince him that they are good and he should really try them.  But we all know how The King feels about cowboys.  

Guess what we did this weekend?  I totally got The King to sit down and watch the AMC movie “Broken Trail”.  He didn’t mean to get into it, but it was playing while he was at the kitchen table on the computer. 

Eventually he started asking things like, “who’s that?” and “what are they doing now?”  After a while he moved on to the couch with me and watched the rest of the 4 hour show. 

He had to ask a few things about “living in the Wild West” that he didn’t know about.  For instance, he didn’t know how the cowboys kept their horses from running of in the middle of the night, or why the cowboys were afraid of the indians at all.  Especially the Crow indians.

He made fun of me a little when I confessed that my heart was racing during one very intense scene during the movie.  But I probably deserved it. 

It’s too bad that we already named Babboo, or I might have been forced to name him Print, after the star of the movie.  Isn’t that just the coolest and toughest name, ever?  Mostly I think I just loved this cowboy movie because it started Robert Duval.

And I love me some Robert Duval, because he will forever be Gus to me.  And I dream that he’ll call me “Lori, darlin’” one day. 

Swoon.

(Yes, I know he’s totally an old guy.  But have you seen the movie?  Because he rocks in it!)

Please tell me I’m not the only one with a fixation for cowboy books and movies.  And if there are more out there, please give me some suggestions for other good ones to read/watch.

(Now if I can just get The King to watch “Lord of the Rings” with me. I will not give up hope.)

Am I the only one that’s been sucked in to this whole “I killed JonBenet” thing?

I worked from home yesterday, so I just kept the cable news shows on all day.  I couldn’t get enough of the story.  I mean, it has murder, scorned parents, nut jobs, teen brides and flashy cars.  Plus they are showing all the awesome footage of JonBenet again.  It’s amazing how much footage they have of that sweet little girl.  I’m not sure that my parents have any video footage of me, let alone the extent that the Ramsey’s have of JonBenet. 

And while I really want this case to be solved and have this crazy looking, high pant wearing, teen bride marrying guy to be guilty; I just don’t think he is. 

I can’t wait for more information to come out about this guy.  He just gets crazier by the second.  What do you think about all of it? 

And is this story more intriquing than the “Where is Baby Suri” story?

————–

Today is Babboo’s first day at school (we have chosen to call it school instead of daycare in our own lame attempt to make ourselves feel better about it.)

I dressed him in his best Simon and Garfunkel shirt.  I figured that way the other babies will know what he’s about and they’ll respect him for it.  The King said it made him look “fruity” and that we should have dressed him in his Guns and Roses shirt.  Then the other babies would know Babboo is tough and that they shouldn’t mess with him.

Either way, he looked a little confused when The King and I both walked away and left him alone in his little crib.

And I felt a little confused as I walked to my office.  I kept telling myself; he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine.  And I know he will be. 

Am I the only one surprised that Kate Hudson and Chris Robinson are getting divorced?  I mean, really.  I’m surprised. 

I was talking about their divorce yesterday with my friend May.  She said that she was also surprised.  Mostly because she had figured Kate must really love Chris.  Since she wasn’t marrying him for his looks.

Ouch.

(Although she does have a point.)

Guess what else May and I did yesterday? 

We took pictures of each other’s necks.  No, we didn’t do that (I took this picture myself from my cubicle this morning.  No airbrushing was done on this photo.  Clearly.)

Actually May and I made jewelry.  I bought the beads for like .50 cents (that might be a slight exaggeration) and the tools for a little more then .50 cents and we were set.  I made 3 different necklaces. 

I haven’t even started on the earrings yet.  But be assured, they will be fabulous.

(So tell me, are you surprised about the divorce, or is it just me?)

I don’t pretend to know anything about death or dying.  I’ve been fortunate in my life to have not lost anyone especially close to me.  I feel very fortunate, but I know it won’t always be that way.  Odds are that I’ll have people I love die.  I’m not ready for this.

My Grandma sent me an e-mail on Saturday informing me that one of her nine sisters passed away this weekend.  Aunt Alta is the third sister to go.  The other two have all died in the past five years.  Since my Grandma is the youngest, she knows that she will most likely be around to watch them all get old and pass away.   

My Grandma and her sisters have always been especially close.  They have all lived in the same state their entire lives and every year they make sure to get together multiple times. They are very supportive of each other and of each others kids.  It is so much fun to see them when they get together.  I won’t lie and tell you that I know which one is which.  I don’t.  But there are a few that I know more than others.  In fact one of my Grandma’s sisters has become a pen pal to me over the last 6 years.  I cherish each of her letters. 

When I called my Grandma this morning to tell her how sorry I am for her loss, she told me that Aunt Alta was extra special to her.  She was the one that would always offer her shoulder to cry on.  My Grandma said Aunt Alta always made her feel so special, like they were the only two around.  She left behind six amazing and smart children.  All six earned college degrees, one of which is a president of a major University.  Even though Aunt Alta and her husband were poor farmers, they taught their kids well. What a beautiful legacy. 

I only have one sister, and talking to my Grandma reminds me how much I love her.  And how much I would miss her if something were to happen.  I told my Grandma that she has been lucky to have so much love in her life.  Having all those sisters, I’m sure meant that much more love and fun growing up.  But now it means that many more people she will lose. 

I couldn’t handle that. 

After talking to my Grandma for a bit I told her I needed to get back to work.  She cut me off and asked me if I’d heard about the kids from her town that had died in the car accident this weekend.  Being as she lives far away from me and in a very small town, I told her I hadn’t heard about it.

Apparently two teenage boys had been killed on Saturday while driving home from the local water park.  My Grandma told me one of the boys was the 17 year old son of her nephew.  She had heard about his death on Sunday and immediately went to her nephew’s house to console him and his family.

I told my Grandma that if anyone could help console the family, it was her.  You see, she lost her own son when he was 17 years old to a farming accident.  While my Grandma was telling me about visiting with her nephew and his family, I started to cry.  I kept thinking about what a horrible weekend this had to have been for me Grandma.  Losing her sister must have been hard enough, but having to also be reminded of losing her child must have pushed her over the edge. 

I told her how strong and brave she was and then she said, “36 years ago today.”   My eyes raced over to look at my desk calendar. 

I had forgotten the day.

Today is exactly 36 years since my uncle died.  36 years and it still cuts my Grandma like a knife.  Of course it does.  It always will. 

We talked for a few minutes more.  I was trying to cover my tears so she wouldn’t notice.  My Grandma doesn’t cry, but I could tell she was very upset.  Her voice was shaking and she was talking very softly. 

She asked me about Babboo and told me how much she loves and misses him.  I tried to be upbeat as I told her how much he weighs now and that he’s still sleeping through the night.  I think she was happy to hear something good. 

I tried to not think about how much I love Babboo and how it would rip me apart if anything bad ever happened to him or The King.

I don’t pretend to know anything about death.

What I do hope is that I can be strong like my Grandma and have a legacy like my Aunt Alta.

It was 1999 and I had been living back at home for about a year.  I liked to describe my life as being sunny after being dark for so long.  I was happy and secure and since I was back living at home, I was surrounded by love for the first time in a while.

I had a great job and I really enjoyed going to work every morning.  My co workers were a lot of fun and my boss was totally awesome.  His name was Shane and we became instant friends.  We started taking our breaks together and going for walks to get a soda.  Shane was too cool for the small town I was living in.  He had done so many more things in life then I could ever imagine doing.  He was smart and funny and kinda cute.

And he was married. 

They always are, right? 

I started hanging out with Shane and his wife Jen.  They were just cool.  Jen had lived in something like 8 different countries and was from the East Coast.  Plus she had this awesome gap in her front teeth.  I would go and hear Shane play in his band on the weekends and Jen would met Shane and I for lunch during the week. 

Eventually I got brave and asked Shane if he had any friends he could hook me up with.  I didn’t want to sound too lame and desperate.  But I sort of was.  The second I asked Shane he got all excited and told me that he had been dying to set me up for a long time.  He said that Jen had told him the correct procedure was to wait until I asked to be set up.  And now I was asking.

The good news was that Shane had the perfect friend for me.

The bad news was that he lived far away in Seattle.  What made the bad news even worse was that his friend had just been in town the weekend before for the Sundance Film Festival.  He didn’t know when he would be in town again.

Oh well, so do you have any other friends?

But Shane didn’t want to hook me up with anybody else.  Shane had spent a lot of time with this friend back in Germany and then again in college.  He just knew that he was perfect for me.  He just knew it. 

Shane fessed up and told me that he had given his friend my e-mail address and that he would be writing me shortly.  I wasn’t going to hold my breath or anything.  But low and behold, he e-mailed me a few days later.  He seemed cool and collective.  His name was The King and his e-mails seemed to pull me in. 

And thus began our correspondence over e-mail.  After a while I included my phone number in an e-mail to him.  I was sneaky like that.  So then we started talking on the phone.  Things were really light and funny.  We weren’t talking like we were in love or anything.  We were just friends.  Plus we were both dating other people.

One day at work Shane asked me when I was going to fly to Seattle to visit The King.  I told him I would as soon as The King invited me out there.  Shane must have immediately told The King that, because in the next e-mail from him he asked me when I was coming out to visit him.

I bought my plane ticket that night.

Before this trip I had only flown on a plane once.  And only to California.  I wasn’t a very brave person, but this was a very brave move for me.  Even The King admitted I was being very brave.

I had an Uncle who lived in Seattle.  So I figured if things didn’t go well, I could always call him to save the day.

I flew out a few weeks later.  Since we hadn’t seen pictures of each other, I told The King I would be wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt.  He would be wearing a gray v-neck sweater.  I made him swear that he’d be there waiting for me when I got off the plane (remember, this was pre 9-11).  My biggest fear was that I’d get off the plane and be stuck alone in Seattle.

I spent way too much time packing for my trip.  I borrowed clothes from my friends.  I even had to borrow luggage (really, I never had gone anywhere before).  My friends dropped me off at the airport and wished me luck.

I had butterflies in my stomach the entire two hour plane ride.  I didn’t know if there would be a love connection with The King and I.  But I knew he was hilarious and that I trusted Shane. 

I remember checking my make up right before we landed in Seattle.  The lighting was horrible, so I was afraid I had too much lipstick on.  Since I was a novice at flying, I didn’t dare get up even to use the bathroom.

I got off the plane and walked down the gate carrying my little pink carry on bag.  I was looking around trying to decide which one of the guys waiting could be The King.  I didn’t see anyone in a gray v-neck sweater.  After standing there a little longer, I didn’t see anyone. 

It was just me.

I was afraid my worst fear had come true and I had been ditched in Seattle.  I started trying to remember where I had put my Uncle’s phone number so I could call him to come and pick me up. 

That’s when I saw this skinny dreamy guy literally running down the walkway in the airport, waving at me.  I didn’t think it was The King, because he didn’t know what I looked like, so how could he be so sure it was me.  Later he told me he knew it was me because I was the only person standing there.  Oh, right.

We packed up my luggage, loaded his car and headed to his apartment.  I sat there in his car looking at my feet and thinking to myself, I am lucky that he’s so dreamy.  I mean, things really could have gone bad in this situation.  But he was cute and funny and had a clean car and apartment.

We got back to his tiny studio apartment, and since it was late he made his bed on the floor and gave me his bed.  It was like summer camp and we stayed up most of the night talking and laughing.  I truly felt like I had known him my entire life.  We got up the next morning and headed to Canada for the next couple of days.  I couldn’t take my eyes off him during the entire three hour ride to the border.  He was more then I could have ever imagined.  I just kept telling myself how lucky I was.  I mean, I can’t imagine that situations like this usually turn out this good.

As lame as it sounds, we had a magical weekend.  When I got back home I remember feeling like it wasn’t “home” anymore.  I immediately felt like I needed to be back in Seattle.

The King flew out to visit me and meet my family a few weeks later.  A few weeks after that I flew back to Seattle.  A few weeks after that he drove all night to surprise me with a ring.  A few weeks after that I quit my job and moved to Seattle to start planning our wedding.

Six year, two houses, a few jobs, tons more plane trips, one cat, and one precious little guy later and here we are. 

Baby, I love you more then ever and more than I imagined I ever could.  Thanks for taking me all the places I only ever dreamed of going and being by my side the entire time.  Happy Anniversary and thanks for rocking my world.