Anyway, it got the creative juices flowing so I went to town. Now, if you’ve read that book you know that there is a little fun being had with the good ol’  Texas cowboys and girls. Yep, I totally jumped on the bandwagon. I do not believe that every Texas cowboy or girl fits this description ….. though ……

Anyway, don’t write me in a big huff. It’s all in fun. You’re great people and I love you, everyone. (I couldn’t resist the rhyme.)

And yes, I was born a Yankee. And no, I can’t get the dang Texas version out of my head!!

A full set of chompers just won’t do.

Big puffy hair that reaches to the sky,

will put the twinkle in that cowboy’s eye.

A Texas cowgirl won’t wear boots that are pink

and will step right through piles that stink.

To be a cowgirl you need to know how to flirt

and not be afraid of a little brown dirt.

Girls of the city go for fluffy and frilly,

things that a cowgirl finds petty and silly.

You need to use words like pert near and purdy,

ya’ll is a fittin’ choice too, as is wily and durty.

To be a cowgirl in Texas is to have plumpy bright-red lips,

and a bold brazen sway of the hips.

You need a big ol’ mouth and a voice that is shrill

that can be heard in this country of hills.

So you know what it takes but do you have the gall

to stand up and answer the  Texas Cowgirl call?

definitely not purples or yellows.

Chose laters not Sooners,

like some of those other fellows.

Give up on supper,

it’s dinner that’s late.

Pile high the 4 Bs

on top of your plate.

(That’s Barbecued Beef Brisket and Beans

ranch style, of course,

for those of you

who hail from the north.)

Stop with the pop,

it’s soda down here.

Always keep jerky

and slim jims near.

In Texas it’s the bling

debazzled galore;

If you think you’re done,

there’s always room for more.

Plate-sized belt buckles

and stud-pointed boots;

and a bow-legged stance

will get you some hoots.

Size really matters,

in Texas it’s true.

Mini-Coopers and SmartCars

are simply taboo.

Everything is bigger in Texas

you’ve heard it said.

Now, good luck getting this poem

Out of your Yankee head.

“No, farmer blows are reserved for farmers only and you are not a farmer.”

“Slow down, open your mouth and enunciate. I cannot understand a word you just said.”

“Did I actually give birth to you? What have you done to my sweet baby boy?”

“I’m just returning the favor. You embarrass me, I embarrass you back. That’s how I roll.”

“Deal with it. I’m the mom so I get to be the boss.” (A new way to say “Because I said so” which I swore I would never say to my own children.)

You will say, 

“Not at the table. If you must do that, please leave the room.”

“Chew with your mouth closed and please DO NOT TALK with your mouth full.”

“Can you slow down and try actually tasting the food.”

“Use your fork NOT your fingers.”

“Please stop farting. It is not funny anymore.”

“Please stop belching, you are making me sick.”

“Fine, if you must please do it in a room where I am not!”

“Please get that cup off the table! I only want cups of the drinking kind in here!!”

“I said if you can’t drink out of it, that cup does not belong in the kitchen!”

“Yes, you must shower because you really do stink.”

“No, we cannot bring any more living creatures into the house.”

“You cannot wear the same pair of underwear for five days in a row.”

“Someday you will be embarrassed to do that at the table.”

“I give up. I’ll be in my room now hiding behind locked doors with my nose stuck in a bottle of perfume.”

And here are some things are you guaranteed to see:

Athletic cups … on the kitchen table, on the kitchen counter, on the kitchen hutch and on the kitchen floor. Everywhere but where they should be when not in use.

Smelly socks thrown in closets, under cushions and right next to (but not in) the clothes hamper.

Humongous shoes left in the middle of the floor or right outside the closet door.

Rubber snakes under your sheets.

Fake bugs  on your pillow.

Creepy fake spiders under your pillow.

Grubs, beetles, lizards, fish, toads, and other interesting critters in your house.

Sticks, rocks, rusted bolts & nuts, BBs, coins, and other thingies in your washing machine.

And my all time favorites:

Fart wars, belching contests, armpit fart dances, wrestling matches that end in fist fights.

And despite their loud, smelly, freakish habits, if you have boys in your life you are guaranteed to be head-over-heels in love with them. They will drive you crazy, make you scream and sometimes want to run away. But when they give you their death squeeze hug, try picking you up and don’t turn away from your kisses you will know no greater love. They stretch you beyond capacity but in return these little men monsters are worth every bit of energy it takes to raise them (at least that’s what I’m told).

So I am spending my time training not just my feet but my spirit. I think in order to get the most from this experience I need to identify my own emotions. Ahh, but I will save that for another blog because right now I don’t feel up to delving in that deep.

As many of you know, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago, which threw our family into the pits of hell. When you are faced with a diagnosis so close to you, you are forced to face things you’d rather not think about. And while mom is a two-year survivor, the fear never leaves you – she’d be the first to tell you that. I cannot begin to understand the battle she experienced, but I can tell you that a daughter faces a different set of emotions that bring us together, but also separate us. My hope is to meet women like me. Women who have not faced cancer, but have dealt with its blow as a “spectator” and all the emotions that observing brings.

Breast cancer also claimed the life of a friend this year and it has been her death, as much as my mom’s diagnosis, that has prompted me to take this step. Perhaps it was because of her age, or the fact that she left behind kids the same ages as mine. On top of that, a cousin-in-law died this year – not of breast cancer but of cancer. This ugly disease has reared it head in my family and on my heart in too many occasions. I am simply unable to sit by any longer.

Letting my emotions be seen is such a small price to pay compared to the women who have travelled a far more difficult road. It makes taking 316,800 steps into my own experiences the easier path, should I have the choice.

So I have a new blog, www.themammaryglams.wordpress.com dedicated to the 3-Day and the adventure leading up to it. I ask you to frequently check that blog as I intend to hold a silent on-line auction to help raise money for the walk.. You can also check my fundraising progress by logging onto www.the3-day.org/goto/dawn.vogel or check out my profile page on facebook.

How the fireflies make the farm fields look like the nighttime sky – all sparkly and flowing.

How quiet & peaceful it is all day and all night long (when the tractors aren’t running).

How you can see for miles.

Glazing up at the nighttime sky and seeing it stretch and fall into the horizon.

Watching the deer eat dad-in-law’s bushes (something he does not like which makes me giggle).

Feeling the breeze & watching the trees waving.

Watching all the birds from the window feeders.

How the red barns burst with color alongside the dark green trees.

The smell of real dirt. Oops, I mean soil.

How it takes you three hours to mow & not because you have to edge, trim & blow after mowing in a specific direction to make your lawn look better than your neighbors.

How it takes you five minutes to drive to the house after you leave the road because the house sits so far back and your dad does not want you to drive fast because you’ll throw gravel in his yard.

Things I love about surburban life.

The steady movement of people and traffic, letting me know that life is moving forward.

Going two blocks instead of two miles to find an overpriced but tasty iced tea.

Large grocery stores with a wide variety of products and brands (meaning wine), where local labels are put in a special section and are not your only option.

Pizza can be delivered right to my door.

The local news really is local – not from a television station or newspaper 40-60 miles away.

Not having to shop at Farm & Fleet. Period. For anything. Double period..

How I know I am raising city boys.

They have no idea what farming season it is or what actually happens during that season.

Other than a tractor & combine, they cannot name other pieces of farm equipment.

They are not sure about the difference between field corn & sweet corn.

They do not know how to play outside and be entertained all day.

They would never think of taking that plank of wood & sticking it out the barn window to make a ramp to ride their bikes down.

They don’t know how much fun it is to chase chickens or how creepy those little things can be.

They have never been on a snipe hunt.

They don’t know what Goop is and why it is kept  by the kitchen sink.

They don’t understand how the smell of oil & greese in a daddy’s hug can be comforting.

They didn’t realize that real garden carrots are full-sized and come with a green top.

They have never really played Ghost in the Graveyard the way it was created to be played – by hiding in barns in the pitch black and then jumping out to scare the crap out of the others.

And, the absolute tell-all: they do not understand that there really is a difference between John Deere & all those others.

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from November through March, you might live in Illinois .

 If your last governor is headed for prison and your previous governor is already there. 
 
If someone in a store offers you assistance & they  don’t work there, you  might live in Illinois .
If your dad’s suntan stops at a line curving around the middle of his forehead, you might live in Illinois .
 
If you have ever worn shorts and a parka at the same time,  you might live in Illinois . 

 If your town has an equal number of bars and churches, you  might live  in Illinois .
 
If you have had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you might live in Illinois .
 
If your newest senator lied to get the job, you might be  from Illinois . 

 
 YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TRUE Illinoisan WHEN:

1.  Vacation means going north or south on I-55 for the weekend.
2.  You measure distance in hours.
3.  You know several people who have hit a deer more than once.
4.  You often switch from heat to AC in the same day and back again.
5.  You drive 65 mph through a raging blizzard, without flinching.
6.  You see people wearing camouflage at social events (including weddings)
7.  You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.
8.  You carry jumper cables in your car and know how to use them.
9.  You design your kid’s Halloween costume to fit over snowsuit…
10. Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow and ice.
11. You know all 5 seasons:
     Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, Road Construction, & it’s Hot!     
12. Your idea of creative landscaping is a statue of a deer next to a blue spruce.
13. ‘Down south ‘ means Missouri .
14. A brat is something you eat.
15. Your neighbor throws a party to celebrate his new pole shed.
16. You go out to a tailgate party every Friday.
17. You have more miles on your snow blower than your car. 
18. You find 0 degrees a ‘little chilly.’
19. You know the difference between corn and soy beans at a glance.
20. You do not consider Chicago to be a part of Illinois.
21. A ‘hill’ is any landmass higher than 100 feet above sea level
22. You actually understand these jokes, and you forward them to all your Illinois friends.
 
What’s not to  understand?

9.  Thank him for putting the dirty dishes on the counter right above the dishwasher.

8.  Take down all the directional signs that point the way to the laundry room. (You can put them back up tomorrow, but, really, does it do any good??)

7.  Change the toilet paper roll so he doesn’t have to do it.

6.  Thank him for tracking freshly mowed grass through the house because it serves as a reminder that you need to mop (which you just finished doing while he was outside mowing).

5.  Don’t ask him today if he is listening to you.

4.  Repeat #10.

3.  Thank him for leaving the toilet seat up because you always wanted a bidet.

2.  Pop his popcorn for him so he doesn’t have to leave the sofa during the US Open because he might just miss something exciting during this fast-paced sporting event.

1.  Smile, nod & make eye contact to make him think you are listening to him today during steps 10 & 4.

The truth is I feel like I am wondering around in the desert  – lost in the space between what was and what will be. I’ve been here before, lots of times, but most of the time it has been more external. Our moves are an example  – there is always that period of time and events that must happen before the “new” house and community start feeling like home.  During those space adventures it is easier to see where this rope bridge begins and where it will end. I know by experience that after a year of seasons, of living life and experiencing the emotions it brings, that I will wake up one morning and realize that the new friends, new routines and new community have become my place of comfort.

 Then there was the year Ken & I refer to as the time we were “thrown out of the boat.” Like Peter, we had to learn to walk on water. Too comfortable to get out the boat, we were thrown out. It was pure faith that carried us through that space continuum.  In a matter of days Ken lost the job that had just months before caused us to pack our bags and head south, leaving family and friends thousands of miles behind. When Ken called to tell me he had lost his job I was with my mom, helping her after a biopsy had confirmed breast cancer. Throw in a couple other events and that whole year becomes something of a blur.

Those desert journeys differ from this present one in that I am on this walk alone. It is internal and it is in this vastness that I am trying to find my true purpose and calling. God has been calling me to a larger purpose and while I have my beliefs about what that is, I cannot clearly see how it will come to be. And let me be completely honest, there is a huge fear factor involved because I just don’t see how I can fulfill this calling.

So here I find myself again – wandering in the desert waiting  for the time when I can enter the Promiseland. The advantage this time is that my previous desert adventures has equipped me with some survival tools. My faith is deeper and more real than it ever has been. I know that has come about only because of the trials I have lived through. So I cannot look back at where I was and wish to go back. If I do I will be giving up blessings I have yet to experience, blessings that I know await me on the other side of this vast expanse of space. So this time I am walking forward with only my faith as a guide, though I have no clear idea of what awaits me. It’s a bit like 1 Corn. 13:9-11, I know in part and I see in part. Only when I get through to the other side will I see clearly.

What I do know is that I have heard God’s voice calling me in this direction. So I am following what I believe to be His will for me. And I know that I am learning to serve God where I am right now. And that means in the midst of confusion and quite frankly a fair amount of frustration. Here I walk, worship and listen. In this space. In this place. Right here, where I am, He meets me.

The thing is, I think he is alright with my worship of him even in the midst of my frustration with him. I do not feel he has turned away from me though at times it seems there is silence between us. And I know there are things to learn while I wait, skills to be acquired that may help me when I reach the Promiseland. So I wait …. on purpose. And look for what I can learn while I do.

And my prayer is simply that when I make it to the Promiseland I will not forget the lessons I learned in the desert. “When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers…..to give you, a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig and vineyard and olive groves you did not plant – then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.”

And my prayer for you is that you will let God met you in the desert space of your own life. Where you are, in the midst of your anger, fear, frustration and discontent – He is also.