Oh wait, that’s not a raccoon..although he’s adorable and mischievous like one! Camera shy you think?

I was 16 and pregnant in that photo……

The Early Years

When I married a cowboy, I had no idea what I was getting myself  into.  Technically I was a city girl, well, as citified as you can get coming from Sweetwater, TX but I dang sure wasn’t no country gal so you can imagine how it might have been to make that adjustment when I married.

It’s hard to enough to adjust to married life in a regular situation but when you’re 16 and pregnant, well that’s even harder.  We were young, *I* was young and I can think of three things that made cowboy life so hard…….1) the moving 2) the lack of money 3) the drinking with all the cowboys, but it’s all three of those things that make me appreciate our life even more today.

It’s only natural that a young man would want to go out drinking with his brothers and friends but it was the ‘leaving the wife at home’ that chapped my hide.  So much so that we fought for a long time over it.  It was perfectly normally for the cowboys to leave their wives at home, head to the ranch bunkhouse to drink and trade but it was new to me.  And unlike some of those other wives….I just wasn’t gonna sit by and not say anything.  He still went out drinking with his brothers but not as much as he would have liked to. While he may not admit to this day, it’s the truth. I gave him hell, enough to make him think twice about it.  I know now that he truly wanted to drink with his brothers while sitting at some barn, trading for cowboy goods much like he does today, not doing anything wrong mind just having a good time with his friends, but I was young and selfish then.  I just didn’t understand but I do now.

Moving. Oh lord the moving–The moving me out in the middle of nowhere.  And  Cowboys can quit a job in a heartbeat.  I still remember when he worked at the feedlot.  I remember the day he came home and said he quit because cowboys don’t paint fences. “They may mend them but they don’t paint them”, he said.  “Real cowboys just don’t do that” was something I had to learn the meaning of real quick.  I didn’t understand it then but I do now.  He wasn’t too good to paint, he was just following he dreams–sticking to his guns of being a real cowboy.   We moved more times than I care to count, each place providing a new ranch living experience and chasing dreams of the cowboy way of life from ranch to ranch. I always knew we’d be okay no matter where we moved ’cause we had each other but it was hard. Hard for me to make friends, hard for the kids to adjust but we got through it and he got it out of his system so that now we’re living comfortable in one place where we’re happy, a place where the kids are happy.  Sometimes he misses the big ranches, dreams about how he wished he had gone to Arizona to work and if ever wanted to do any of that, I’d be right there with him, no questions asked ’cause that’s what real cowboys do..drift and dream.  Pack everything up, throw it in a trailer and see what’s in store on the next horizon….

The poor times.  I’ve said it a million times and it’s pretty well known that cowboys don’t make much money.  Not ranch cowboys anyways and that’s what he was, a tried and true cowboy all the way.  We’ve made less than $750 with two kids, a truck to pay for, and bills to pay but we got through, always.  We might have had to send the two very young kiddos off once due to the lack of groceries or I might have even had to write a hot check to buy those groceries until the next paycheck came but we managed.  We didn’t need much else and while I’d like to have had nice things, they weren’t necessary.  We had food, family, friends, and each other.

Cowboys are rough, a little rowdy and drifters but they’re good guys.  And if you ever fall for one, just remember….Cowboys Ain’t Easy to Love.  (If you have quicktime, you can listen to it here. Otherwise, check it out on Amazon. It’s an oldie but a good’un.)

If you want to know how we met, you can read the beginning–the story of us.  More to come…..

P.S. If you’re reading through email or reader, come check out my new look. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my blog makeover.

Tyler, my oldest, has sorta always felt like my brother in a way.  I mean, I did have him at 17 after all so we kinda grew up together in a sense I suppose.  He always gave me a hard time from the early newborn days until about 14.  I remember waking up at 2am trying to soothe him with no luck at all and my husband walking over, patting him on the back and him falling right to sleep.  He’s always been a daddy’s boy.  He was also the one carving on saddles, writing his name with a marker under out dinner table, acting up in class, and hiding all sorts of snacks in his room.  He’s now almost all grown up it seems.  He’ll be 16 in September and he’s a good young man.  He’s so very polite and respectful.  He has this unbelievable work ethic, something many teens lack these days.  He’s been breakin’ horses since he was 7 or so and he’s still doing it, only now he’s earning a man’s wages.

He’s just waiting for the day he can leave home to go daywork on other ranches.  I can’t imagine him leaving home though.  He’s just like me whether he wants to admit it or not.  He’s silly and is always cracking me up.  He’s my best friend now.  I know I still have a few years left with him but God how I’ll miss him when he’s gone to live out his cowboy days.