We need to have a chaps intervention. THEY ARE NOT CALLED "ASSLESS CHAPS." ALL CHAPS ARE "ASSLESS"!!!!

Another irritant in my life to make me slap my forehead and yell at the TV.

First of all I have every intention of going to see "Cowboys and Aliens" because, well, duh, cowboys and aliens.  Things blow up and stuff, plus there are horses.  And hunky actors.  All the good stuff eh?

Plus Jon Favreau is behind this, and he's done a couple great pieces of entertainment.  Also, Harrison Ford, who should keep doing cowboy movies.  (I mean, Han Solo really was a cowboy am I right?)  And Daniel Craig, who from now on I will declare should make all cowboy movies.  Also, horses.  

But in the meantime I have to deal with stoopid people babbling about "Ooooh Daniel Craig in assless chaps!" and this has got to stop.  Entertainment news reporters are all done up in short-shorts and cowboy boots, sitting on horses, wearing straw hats, and as if that doesn't make me want to gag - come on, really?  That's not a cowboy hat, that's a Bon Jovi hat, it's not the same thing - I have to put up with these girls breathlessly going on about assless chaps!  


I can't take this anymore!  Listen up!

ALL CHAPS ARE "ASSLESS" OKAY?

Chaps fit around your legs.  They belt around your waist, then you take one leg which is flapping around like a big sheet of leather and you wrap it around your leg and zip it up on the outside, from the hip to the ankle.  Repeat on the other leg.  There is no leather anywhere else except around your legs and around your waist.

There never was an ass to be less.

You will never see chaps that have an ass.  There is no such thing as "assed chaps."

Please do not ever refer to chaps as "assless" and please correct anybody who uses this term.  Thank you and tell them Heidi the Hick sent you.


And on a more pleasant note, as a reward for enduring my tirade...

DANIEL CRAIG IN CHAPS.

You're welcome.

I'm here for you, people.  

"He's been getting a reprieve from the heat, in the frozen food section..."

NAME THAT TUNE!

(this may be difficult if you aren't up on your Canucky music.)

Got a nice break from the horrible humidity and punishing heat.  Yeah, Florida, your turn!  Mwa ha ha ha!

Seriously the in-lawrs are in Florider for two weeks and it's hotter here than it is there.  It happens.  And then we get the same number on the negative side of the scale in winter.  And you know what?  THAT'S WHAT WE DO UP HERE IN CANADA.  We complain about the weather.  You thought hockey-ball or whatever it is was our national pastime?  Nope.  Complaining about the weather.

It was nice to ride Oakie this afternoon without both of us dripping in sweat.  The mares have not been breaking a sweat just from grazing.  Of course Phoenix is still as cool as a tranquilized cucumber.

Back into the deep fryer tomorrow.

The 27 Curse strikes again.

Amy Winehouse.  Dead at age 27.

Another talented self-destructive musician added to the eery list.

Well, sadly, I'm not shocked.  

I'm saddened though. You know I love my rock stars and musicians.  I have a ridiculous amount of admiration for people who can make music.  I might even have a clue about what makes them tick, even with my bad sense of pitch and inability to think up melodies.  I understand that creative drive.  I understand the rebellious streak that's never content to leave normality as it is.

I was just talking about her the other day with somebody who didn't get it.  "Why is she such a big deal? She's a wasted addict and a total mess."  That kind of thing.  And I replied something like, "No, she really is a big deal.  She's the real thing."  And also, "Man, I really hope she turns it around.  She's meant to be a star.  She's got so much left to do."

Because when she was good, she was very, VERY good.  She was sassy and unique and had a rich voice packed with attitude.  She didn't fit into either an older decade or the current one, which made her timeless in a classic way but also in a difficult, transient way.  

People who don't fit into this world full of rules have a hard time with life and the very concept of how to live. 

(Especially the brilliant ones.)

You'll be seeing all kinds of photos of messed up Amy.  

I'd like to remember her at her best.  

So if any of you out there happen by some strange chance to be potentially messed up cracked out confused frighteningly talented young musicians...

Just know that yeah, you're troubled and strange but we need you. Please stay off the junk and take care of yourselves.   

The Dead 27 Year Old Rock Star Club is big enough.  Don't join it.

Obviously I like stuff Absorbine makes.

When Annyong and I cleaned up the tack room last week we realized I have a bit of a ShowSheen habit.

I guess I could quit if I wanted to.  But I don't want to.

I love that stuff.  I squirt it into manes and tails to keep the burrs out (for those times I don't cut the burdock down in time) and to lube out those snarls and tangles.  

I loooove running my hands through a nice clean smooth mane.  

I don't even show horses anymore but I still like them to be clean and tangle-free.  The thing is, two of my horses are Appaloosa, a breed famous for sparse tail hair.  I got lucky with mine.  Phoenix actually has a gorgeous tail for any breed of horse!  And I plan to keep it that way.  I am fanatical about not breaking tail hairs.  

He got busy rubbing his mane this spring and I am not happy about that.  Oakie has a gorgeous thick red mane, but she rubbed it thin too in one spot.  (Not sure what the deal is with that but of course I blame myself for not giving them their early summer scrub-n-hose-down... what the heck do wild horses do with nobody to shower them and condition their manes into silky comfort?)

I mixed a little Absorbine liniment with some water and sponged that onto the spots that looked like they might be itchy.  I think the rubbing has stopped.  Yay!  That liniment is great stuff.  Put a dab of it on mosquito bites and the itch is gone!  Oh yeah and it's nice on sore muscles too.  Theirs, and sometimes mine.  My hands feel all tingly after I rub their legs down.  

And it smells wonderful.

Oh but wait there's more!  

They make this fly spray that smells like flowers and spices and all things pleasant!  It doesn't smell like poison - it's a miracle!!!  I don't feel like I've been chemically contaminated after spritzing it all over the horses!  This is pretty important, because they have to be fly-sprayed.  Partly because I hate seeing flies all over them - especially their faces - and also because all that distracted stomping and shaking off of flies does not make for a happy riding lesson.  

I know, it's like an Absorbine commercial here, but I wouldn't plug anything I didn't actually appreciate and use, so this is honest.  Maybe I should ask them to be the official grooming supplier of Hick Chic.  

Official Bottles of Things To Spray on Horses Supplier?

I think I could find more space in the tack room for more Bottles Of Stuff To Spray On Horses.  

I think I've figured out how to survive summer.

Get on the horse before 9 am.  By 10 it's up to 34 Celsius (that's about 93 F)  so it's good to be well underway and thinking about wrapping it up.  I didn't actually get on Phoenix's back until after 10 this morning and holy smokes we were both dripping with sweat.  We weren't even working that hard.  (Okay we're both kinda flabby and out of shape but still!!)

Hose off the horse.  He just stands there while I spray water at him.  I don't have to tie him - just throw the rope over his neck.  The dirt and sweat wash off his back and he looks sooo relieved.

Get in the pool.  I'd advise peeling the sweaty clothes off first.  Oh, and then put on a bathing suit.  I mean, the farmhouse is pretty close to the road, I'm just saying.

Ahhhhh.....

...that pool has been a giant pain for the most part, what with all the leaking and emptying and patching, refilling and then patching again... but the leak is down to a slow trickle now!

I'm such a landlubber, I just splash around and dog paddle, but man that feels good.  I promised the kids we'd get a pool when we move out to the country, but I think now it's as much for me as it is for them!

Between dripping with sweat, two dips in the pool per day, and washing my hair every night before bed (it's really dusty in the corral where I ride) my hair is going to be wet all summer.





(Y'know, there are some really crappy parts of my life, but this right here, all of this, is pretty damn good.)

This evening I parked near a pickup truck that was EVEN GNARLIER than mine.

I am not sure if I'm relieved that mine isn't the worst looking truck in town...

...or envious because the other other one is sooooo nasty it's classic...

Attack of the Damp Disgusting Mouldy Tack Room Spore Monsters!!!

Things went kinda wonky when I was hiding in my room for a month.  Actually things were pretty much dysfunctional in the barn for the last six months or so.  I was feeling right bummed out Saturday for no discernible reason - it happens - and my idea to sweep the floor turned into a four hour Clean Rearrange Tack Room Frenzy!

Thing is, since crawling out of my bedroom exile, I'd noticed that the boots I'd set under a saddle rack last fall without cleaning first... had not survived winter and spring well.  They were mouldy.  I'd never seen anything that fuzzy.

Tentatively, apprehensively and anxiously, I lifted the cover off the saddle on that rack...

And I ALMOST CRIED.

It wasn't just that fuzzy white and pale green mould.  

This was full on FURRY.  

Mounds of mould fur.  YELLOW AND BROWN.  

Bad. Bad.  Very bad.  On my cute saddle that I picked up last summer for $250 and felt so smug about.  

MY SADDLE TURNED MULTICOLOURED MOULD FURRY GROSS YUCK.

And the boots.

Are you getting this?  Getting how awful they are?

EVEN THE LACES ARE MOULDY.  They aren't even leather.  Almost cried.  I've had these boots SINCE 1995 and I've never let them get this bad.  

The tack room's in the ground floor of a 130-odd year old barn, give or take a decade.  Most of the downstairs is built into a hill, and it gets damp in there, especially during our humid Ontario summers.  Keeping leather things non-fuzzy is a constant challenge.  

Well I set myself up in the corral and got busy cleaning tack.  Luckily I love cleaning tack.  Unluckily this grossed me out.  But I toughed it up, man.  I put on a paper dust mask cuz I don't want that crap going up in my nose.  That mould fur is actually dry and kind of poofs all over when disturbed.  Eeeeuuuuurrrgggghhhhhhh.

I cleaned the saddle first and then gave the boots a very quick brushing up with the sponge and leather soap - just enough to keep them from ROTTING until I get out there to spend an hour cleaning every little friggin stitch.

Noticeable improvement, at least.  

And the saddle?

It's gonna live!

I tend to get really ADHD Hyper Focus about saddle cleaning, and have to get into every little carved crevice.  I scrubbed 'er up real good.  I let it dry over supper and then lovingly rubbed Lexol conditioner all over it.  

Made it all glowy and soft and wonderful again.

I'm so relieved that my stuff wasn't ruined.  But this is the kind of thing that will destroy your leather tack.  Stick a saddle in a damp old barn for a few years, with all the temperature fluctuations and humidity changes, and eventually it's done.  Once it gets cracked it can't be brought back.  And that really is the kind of thing that makes me cry!

I might need to send these Before and After shots to the nice people who make saddle soap and conditioner.  

You know what else I'm gonna do?

PUT THE BOOTS ON MY FEET AND THAT SADDLE ON A HORSE!

The Will & Kate Show goes to the Stampede! Plus - Bucky's birthday! Plus - Heidi goes off on a rant!

First thing I said to the kid this morning was, "You are a lot bigger now than you were when you came out." He rolled his eyes in disgust.  At least I didn't remind him that he came out with racing stripes.

Yesterday I bought the kid new shoes.  They are size 11 so he's only got another three sizes to go and he and his Dad can swap shoes.  That should save me a couple hundred bucks for a few years.  Also, last space shuttle EVER launched today.  Bucky used to draw pictures of the space shuttle and give them to his Kindergarten teacher, Miss Leonarrrrd.  Awww.  Space shuttles.  Bye.  (nostalgic tears)

Big news - THE ROYAL COUPLE GO TO THE STAMPEDE!  You know what, I give up - I love Will & Kate.  Yeah I know their little 9 day whirlwind tour of Canada is costing me - that all of us Canadian tax payers are funding this trip.  I know they didn't actually DO anything useful other than like, do a smudging ceremony (smoke!  feathers!) and eat BBQ caribou.  Whatevs.  It was very entertaining.  And she wore the same dress on Canada Day that she wore in her engagement pictures.  See?  Like a real person and all.

It's worth having them here to get fun pictures like this!

So of course the animal rights groups are upset about this visit to the Stampede.  

Listen folks.  You know me. You know I love critters.  I grew up surrounded by critters.  I am the caretaker of seven, including the two barncats.  I'd like to think my critters are well taken care of, respected and yes, loved.  I'm disgusted by animal cruelty. (Except lab rats.  I hate rodents.)

However.  Most animal rights groups set my teeth on edge.  I keep getting the impression that most members of these groups don't really understand that there is a huge massive difference between abusing animals, and living and working with them.  

For example.  Saddling a horse and riding him for a few hours.  NOT ABUSE.  Working a horse until he sweats.  NOT ABUSE.  Saddling a severely overweight horse who hasn't been ridden in a year on a 5 hour trail ride with no breaks for water while kicking him mercilessly because you don't know how to actually ride a horse and have no clue how to ask him to move forward, all the while sawing away at his mouth with a 5-inch shanked curb bit because it makes you look cool and bitchin like a cowboy.  ABUSE.  

Riding a bronc for less than eight seconds?  Okay kinda crazy but not abusive.  TO THE HORSE.  Where the hell is People for the Ethical Treatment of Cowboys????  Huh?   

On that note, here are Mr & Mrs Cambridge watching the mutton busting.  Yep, start 'em young.  

The sheep is the size of the average family dog, doesn't run very fast,  and the kid's wearing a hockey helmet. Most kids get way more damage doing organized sports.  Mind you if the kid grows up to be full-on adrenaline junkie crazy, he'll get into bull riding at which point, you can't tell him anything.  Just let him hit the ground and run a few times until he gets sick of it or can't walk without all his bones screaming.  (And he don't even have a PETofC to complain to the media about how meeeen this is.)  

Honestly, I've been to lots of rodeos (okay yes they were all Ontario rodeos so they weren't anything like the Stampede, Albertans please don't laugh at me...) and being the kind of person who just has to know everything, I like to have a good look around.  Ever seen the bucking horses load up after a rodeo?  They plod up into that trailer like nothing.  They stand there with their eyes contentedly half closed.  They have the best job in the equine world... get fed, get cared for, and only work for eight seconds.  

Also.  Horses like to work.  My hot little red half-arab half-QH was the perfect example.  He friggin well knew that the keyhole race was the last gymkhana event and he trotted in there like, "YO!  Champ is HERE people.  Here to WIN! Yeah, you know you love me!!!  CUZ I'M THE BEST!"

And another also.  Any cowboy who intentionally harms a cow or calf or bull is an idiot.  You don't harm the animals you make your living off of. Of course there are a few bad ones.  Hey, there are bad farmers and bad soccer moms too.  Nobody likes them and nobody wants to work with /for them.  

And one more also.  Seriously you see a bull rider in action and you think the bull is the one suffering?  I'm sorry, I can't help you.

Wow, A RANT! Yay!  I must be feeling better! O my gosh I wonder if I'll get hate mail!

But back to the real reason why we're here.  WILL AND KATE.  The Duke and Duchess.  The Hope For The Future of a Good Looking Monarchy.  

William.  Way to wear a plaid shirt.  Those are some shoulders, Your Highness!

I'm of the opinion that almost everybody looks good in a cowboy hat. 

But don't call these Stetsons.  They're not. They're  Smithbilt.   Canadian. 

Now it's time for one of my of my favourite Hick Chic features: WHAT ARE THEY THINKIN'?

I've been across this giant country and back in just over a week.  It would have taken two weeks to drive from one side to the other.  I've done fourteen events per day.  I am knackered.

However that overnight stay in the isolated cabin up in the mountains with no electricity was quite... relaxing.  Yet also invigorating. Yes my darling?  You are smashing in that cowgirl attire.  (If it's a girl, shall we call her Alberta???

Side note from Heidi - Prince Swagger!  I think he looks slammin' like that!  Anybody need some cattle worked?  The guy already knows how to ride a horse!

Here's a good one:

PRIME MINISTER HARPER: Darnit, even in a cowboy hat I still look slightly dorky.  Okay fine, just dorky.  I already tried public performances of Beatles songs.  Still not cool?  Geez.  Oh well, I am the Emperor Prime Minister of Canada, so...yeah.


PRINCE WILLIAM DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE PILOT OF RESCUE HELICOPTERS:  I feel so...stunningly handsome in this attire.  Shall I keep the cowboy hat, Kate?


CATHERINE "KATE MIDDLETON" DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE: Ha!  I've already arranged to have the entire outfit shipped back to our home in remote Wales where we live like normal people!!"






And since this blog is called "Hick CHIC" as opposed to "Hick No Sense of Style Whatsoever" I gotta say... I like what she's wearing!!!  Not very flashy, but in her line of work, flashy is not smiled upon.

But as much as I adore Kate - and I do, I give up, I give in, she got me - I just don't think she has enough, um, substance, uh, weight, to really make this work. To really pull off this look, I think a girl's gotta have more backside.  When have you ever seen a legit cowgirl with minimal backside? I'm not even a legit cowgirl and I've got some.  But she's got legs a mile long and makes everything else look like a million bucks so she's good.

And then poof they're gone. 

So Los Angeles, you're next.  

I know, it'll be all over the news that The Royals Go To L.A. and nobody will even know they were in Canada let alone had not one but two romantic wilderness getaways and the rest of the world will wonder why the heck their first kid's name is Canada.  But it's okay.  Cuz they were wearing jeans and cowboy hats so things are right in my world.  

Now I just have to whip up a cake for the boy's birthday, make sure he and his friends don't shoot an eye out on the "target range" and then try to find a channel with some rodeo coverage!!!  

Yee Frickin' Haw!

BREAK MY RUSTY CAGE. AND RUN!

SOUNDGARDEN London ON July 3.  Dream come true.  Thought I'd never see them live. I'm still not totally well, but I'll get up the guts for these guys... their music got me though my own black days this past month.  They rock and it was truly epic.  Love, love, love.  And goodnight.  

Twenty years ago today, I got married. Smartest thing I've ever done.

Most of it is a blur but I clearly remember my young man's face once I got to the gazebo in the park and stood there facing him.  He smiled at me.  He was happy to see me. Him so purty.

Over the years, people who didn't know us back then are shocked when I tell them we got married at 20 and 22 years old.  You know what? I would have married that guy two years earlier, but we got him through college first and I had some time to save up for the wedding.

I wanted a picture for our 20th anniversary, taken by our talented daughter.  The old dress still fits, but the jacket he wore is too small in the shoulders and the sleeves are about four inches too short.  He ain't a cute baby-faced kid anymore; he's my big hunk o'man now.  Me, I just have more wrinkles.

I just got through a very difficult month, and I still feel kinda pale and frail... but he's solid.

Can't imagine how much I'm gonna love that man in another twenty years.