Cowgirl Fever

A cowgirl gets up in the morning,

decides what she wants to do

and does it.

-Marie Lords, 1861

A new ranch is going in about 5 miles up the road from Freeman House. It's breathtaking. As I drove by its plump, green hills this morning, a man was saddled up and riding through his woolly-looking herd. It was such a beautiful sight that I got a lump in my throat.

Within a moment of taking it all in, I had cowgirl fever. Bad. I was suddenly hungry for chili. (Or steak.) I wanted to put on my vintage apron and straw hat and worn leather boots. I wanted to jump on hay bales. I wanted to sit by the open fire and drink really strong coffee.... or Dr. Pepper from a glass bottle. I wanted to play my fiddle and sing Amazing Grace. I wanted to sit on a splintery wooden fence and take in the wide, starry sky....

I wanted to be a cowgirl. Just for the day.

It made me laugh, then - upon arriving home - that I found an invitation to visit the National Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame in Fort Worth. It's one of those places I wouldn't mind peeking in on... (especially after seeing the photos on the website) ... but it doesn't rank very high on my list of things to see. Hmmm. Maybe it should...

You know, when I think of the women who helped settle the west... who toughed out wagon trains and Indian ambushes and drunk, hungry cowboys... I feel like I could be capable of so much more. I feel downright spoiled. I feel the need to cultivate a stronger character of fearlessness and romanticism and spunk. I also feel the need to sing more hymns and braid my hair and stitch up extra cotton aprons....

...Yep, that settles it. I give. This weekend, I'm gonna be a cowgirl. Yee-haw!

Feel free to stop on by Freeman House - in person or here online - if you get a chance. I'm going to get up in the morning, decide what I want to do, and do it. And of course, I could always use an extra hand!

(And like any true cowgirl, the coffee and grub is on me.)