WARNING: this post contains awards shows, parties, horse manure, complaining about the weather, depression, bitchy computers, alcohol and ridiculous high heeled shoes.  Where else are you going to find all that, except here, eh?

Tonight, I am getting on a plane with my husband and kids, and we're flying out to sunny Winnipeg Manitoba! Some of you may be wondering why the heck Winnipeg.  IT'S JUNO WEEKEND!

From what I hear these days, it's sunny out there, but it's cold.  We were in Winnipeg nine years ago and it was like that.  It's a nice city.  Some day I'd like to go there when it's not the ass end of Canadian winter, because until then I will never see it looking like this:

We here in Ontario have kind of been getting the prairie winter.  Oh, yeah, technically it's spring now, but I call BS on that because I've still got snowbanks up to my knees out here on the ol homestead and it's still several degrees below freezing and I'm worn out.  Worn out and worn down.  

I keep thinking I shouldn't complain, except that my dad, who is 71 years old, says he can't remember a winter this consistently cold, with this much snow, that started so early and has held on this long.

Also I know people who grew up on the prairies who've said that, yes, the winters are way colder out west, but Ontario winter is much crueler.  It's windy here, and wet cold, and makes you want to cry.

Well, I don't know about the crying part.  That was just me.  I want to cry.

Spring has a history of bumming me out, which sucks, because everybody else is leaping and grinning and chirping while I'm grinding my teeth and moping.  Shouldn't spring make me feel optimistic?  It does not.  It makes me feel like all that excrement out in the yard, melting into a stinking pile.

Last year for the first time in I-don't-even-know-how-long, I felt okay.  I could handle it.

This year?  Bleccchhhhhh.

But whatever.  I AM GOING TO PARTY IN A BUILDING WITH ROCK STARS.

And I'm BRINGING THE YOUNGUNS ALONG.

They haven't gotten a whole lot of advantages from growing up in the music business, and they deserve some perks, right?

I got a $20 dress, I have crazy towering silver wedge heeled shoes -- they're so high I must be close to 5'6" in them!!!!!

I am not even going to lie... I will be graciously accepting the free drinks.

Not too much.  Just enough.

I mean.  Beer.  Right?

Anyways, my phone gadget and computer have decided they are two girls in grade 7 and are not speaking to each other.  Therefore, no blog updates.  However, I have Instagram!

I AM GOING TO INSTAGRAM MY TRIP!  CLICK HERE!

Alright folks.  I'm leaving in 20 minutes.  Right after Selina folds laundry and Bucky and Jethro load the car and and I throw some feed at the horses.  I'M TOTALLY OKAY HERE, PEOPLE.  

Seventh Blogiversary HICK CHIC Giant Link-O-Rama Greatest Hits and Missteps! (Seriously there's a lot of stuff going on here!)

(Man I've been working on this for a week. Enjoy!)

SEVEN YEARS AGO  I started writing this blog.

I Needed to write.  I wanted to write about what it's like   to be someone who just IS a country dweller, with a need for wide open spaces,  living in town and dealing with it.  I was living in a subdivision in a house I cherished,  despite its one irreparable flaw of being located in town, and surrounded by wonderful neighbours who made me feel like I could survive in a place that wasn't my natural habitat. 

I called it HICK CHIC because I believed you could be a boots-wearing country bumpkin and still look good.  

Sounded like fun eh?


Of course, it sort of turned into a list of my favourite things, including horses,  my husband,  pickup trucks,  rockstars,  Johnny, my black house cat who was the very old best-cat-in-the-world, my Pug puppy,  and of course, my kids.

And the family business worked its way into the story too. 

Being a bit of a pop culture junkie, I even worked a few of my favourite celebrities into the discussion.

I can relate almost anything to Johnny Depp.     It's a skill.     It's a natural talent.  

Yeah I have a weakness for The Famous.  Especially Rock Stars. 
 I love them. 
They make music and they rock and I love them.  You might think a proper hick would be a country music fan but I have theories and rock music and its relationship with rural dwellers.  It's extreme out here: windier, colder,  hotter, smellier.  Everything is just MORE.  Now go do some headbangin'.

What I didn't expect was that the blog evolved
into a sometimes 
painfully honest confession
of my mental health struggles and triumphs.

I actually think some of it was kind of funny.   Not sure if that's good or bad.  Don't care, really. If I wasn't already aware that I am kinda weird, writing this blog made it pretty clear. Then I found out for sure without a doubt, that I do actually have ADHD and things started making sense in ways that wouldn't make sense unless you get it, get it?  I am brilliant at the whiplash subject change, it turns out.


You know, I have gotten so scattered with this blog project.  I went off on the rebelliousness of interior decorating,    dissertations on style and clothes,    my slightly embarrassing pirate fixation, my shameless love for gnarly old cars and pickup trucks,  not to mention my lifelong association with scrap metal (what, you didn't grow up playing in junk?) and threw some fabulous blog parties!


My husband and I had been together forever and had big plans to build a recording studio in a barn, and like, dominate the world and stuff like that. 






Things have changed so much in the last few years.



Well, Jethro and I are not dominating the world -- just a small corner of it.  We just want that recording studio in a shed behind the barn, or whatever, as long as he can walk across the yard to get to it and doesn't have to live in the city part time to do his work. But in the meantime, he's made me into a rather well-travelled hick.



When I started this blog, I intended to finish writing my epic novel and then go through the process of writing query letters and getting a literary agent to choose me, then waiting for him/her to find me a publisher, and then go through all the emotional turmoil of my book becoming a real book and all that entails.   I still want that.  Who knows how it will go; maybe I'll land an agent.  Maybe I won't.


I did finish that epic novel by the way, and got pretty far with it before realizing it wasn't as ready as I'd hoped it was.  So I started another one and then another one.  And finished one.  And am now finishing it again for the second time.




Things haven't gone quite as I had planned back when I started this blog.  Yes, we sold our house and moved to the country, but it wasn't the way we had imagined or planned.  We moved into the place we'd gone for weekends and holidays and family events, the place we kept our horses and our sanity and peace of mind.  We moved to the Ol' Homestead.  With the parents!

Living in the country,  has been wonderful.  I am with my horses every day and I even get to ride three times a week!

And the whole time I've been writing this blog, Life Has Been Happening. 

I wanted to ride horses and write stories.

I teach people how to ride horses for a living.     I love my work so much.

I have realized that I AM A WRITER.

And I feel much better now.





I think I've realized the real focus of this blog.



It's for all of us who just don't quite fit in, can't quite behave, don't think they way we often feel like we're being told to think.  We all find each other eventually.



I haven't been making much time for blogging for the last year or so and I have been considering just shutting it down and leaving it alone.

But I don't think I will.

As long as four or five of you are still reading, and you can wait a month for something new, I'll keep writing.

There was a time several years ago when I wondered what I'd have to do to become a career blogger, writing blog posts every day and end up with book deals and TV appearances and... it just wasn't the path I set myself on.

I keep poking at the idea of turning some of this into a book, though.  A Hick Chic Guide.  To Life.  And stuff.  I've still got words in me needing to get out.

Remember when I used to do Johnny Fridays?

I found an open letter to Johnny that I must share with you.  I mean, I could have written this.  Except that I only have two kids, and my husband grows music instead of crops, and the closest small town is way too big and kinda really close.  Other than that, she feels exactly like I do!

http://www.blogher.com/dear-johnny-or-shall-i-call-you-mr-depp

I wanted to leave her a comment but I've forgotten my password username identity for BlogHer.  So hey Farm Wife From Kansas Who Loves Johnny Like I Do... I hope you find out that I linked your letter!  And it'd be cool if you're cousins.  I think he's my non-biological half-twin, or something.

Also I just watched a little news snippet about Johnny on stage with his unattractive buddy Marilyn, at an event called the Golden God Awards. Seriously, how did I not know this exists????  I can't even tell you how many times I have wanted to stand on the roof with my arms outstretched yelling I am a Golden God!!!!  

HOW IS HE SO AWESOME?!?!?!!??????!!!!!!!!!

ANNUAL HICK CHIC Christmas BLOG PARTY!!!

GET IN HERE!

Feeling festive?  Not feeling festive and actually feeling quite miserable?  Either way -- especially if you're miserable -- let's party blog-style! Let me show you around.  Don't let the cat out, and look out for the spinning yelping Pug. I've been totally busting my butt to get this place all prettied up.  I mean the photo shoots were an event, blah blah blah.  But it was all worth it.

You can kick off your boots here.  

I hung up some stockings for you.  I can add more!

Okay, just hang on, do you LOVE my wallpaper?  It's VINTAGE!  My whole house is vintage!  I just knocked a layer of dust off and moved in!  Totally authentic, man. 

So yeah, I found these old chairs in the hay mow and don't they look lovely now?

I'm feeling particularly fond of anything angel-related these days.  (Some of you already know why!)

Need a drink?  Cupboard's over there, help yourself to a glass.

Let's have a toast.  Why do we call it a toast if there's no actual toast involved?  Well what the heck, I'll drink to that anyways.  

Here's to... all of us!

Alright, let's cut the crap here.  There are some of you out there who aren't really feeling it.  

Yeah, I see you.  

Come over here.  

Step into this quiet room, all of us.  

Honestly?  This time of year can be a real bitch, am I right?  

Let's just fess up.  Some of us have reasons to dread Christmas.  I personally feel pretty rotten about this, because A) I am a Christian and this occasion marks the beginning of, well, everything, and B) because it's my fricken birthday, so I should be thrilled and happy and insufferably joyful.  I should be.

I'm not always, though.  

I loved Christmas when I was a child.  Mom did a great job of sheltering us kids from the nasties of life.  All I knew was, there was a fake tree in the house covered in shiny stuff (Oh Shiny!) and everybody gets presents on my birthday!!!!!!!

But then I went and grew up and had to deal with the pressure to shop and give and spend and cook and clean and decorate, and oh my gosh, wrap presents straight and with minimal amounts of scotch tape. And the pressure to be merry.  

I hate the commercialism. I've never in my life had a comfortable amount of money to live on.  I don't know what it's like.  And when the world is telling you to SPEND or else everybody will know you don't love them... it's awful.

Oh but there's more.  

Some of us are dealing with mental health problems, or physical health problems.  Or both.

Some of us are grieving.

Some of us are alone.

Some of us are homeless.

Well guess what.  YOU CAN BE THAT HERE.

Because hey, life isn't fair, people.  It just isn't.  

But.

We're ok...

We are breathing.  

If that's all we've got, that's something.

And for me, I've got to remember why I'm celebrating in the first place.  

This guy.

(that's supposed to be Jesus by the way, as opposed to that totally philosophical dude you sat beside in the train station.)  (wait a second...?)

And if you're not into Jesus then you can look at Christmas as simply Peace On Earth.  We could all use that right?  

So let's not be fake -- you are feeling how you are feeling.  You're allowed that.  

We're gonna be okay though.  

Whew.

Alright?  

Here's a big virtual hug and a virtual kiss on the forehead and now take a deep breath, and let's get out there and DO THIS PARTY.

Here, have some Pigs In Blankets.  I don't know why we call them that.  They don't look like pigs or blankets. But it's all zero-calorie in Blog World, so eat up!

Have some veggies.  Why are veggies and dip called crudités?  Why????

Don't ask.  Just dip and eat.  

Party always ends up in the kitchen, doesn't it? 

Luckily there will be no dishes to wash!

You know how the big trend now is to make these tiny little burger things?  Sliders. That name really bothers me.  Like this food is so small, you can just slide 'em down your throat.  Fifteen of them.  Who cares, they're just tiny.

And here they're totally imaginary so go nuts.

Would you like to see the library?  I've been working on some renovations.  It's not quite done yet.  I still have to finish the skylight, and then do a good sweeping and dusting. But I think it's coming alone nicely.

I'm going for that "haunted chic" look.  How'm I doing with that?  

All I know is, I finally found room for all my books!!!

You must be worn out from touring my big old house.  Have a seat.  

You know what you need right now?

BLOG NOG!!!!

It's a new recipe this year!  

Fancy, eh?

Go ahead!  Even if you can't stand the stuff in real life, you will love Blog Nog!  So sweet!  So... noggy!

 And still with the name thing - why the heck do we call it egg nog?  What's a nog?  Where do all these names come from?  Pigs on Blankets with a Toast of Egg Nog.  

The heck?

Watch out for this stuff.  I think it might be embellished.  Enhanced.  If you know what I mean.

I'm just saying it doesn't look as innocent as the other mug of nog!

Of course we'll need some rum for the pirates.

Look at that eh?  Like magic.  I say RUM, I get pirate.

(Ain't he a nice present for me?)

And now you need to use the bathroom.  Party always ends up in the bathroom.

I get it.  This bathroom's so nice I never wanna leave either.  

Random Shiny Thing:

Let's go outside for some fresh air.

We can visit The Girls.

HI GIRLS!  Aw, they're all smiling at us!  

Let's go for a ride while there's still snow on the ground.  Snow is prettier than mud.  

Well ok, I'm cold now.  

Time to warm up! 

I'll just be here with my butt beside the fireplace for a few minutes.  

HEY can we get somebody in here who knows how to play this thing?

And who's got a lyric sheet for "You're a Mean One, Mr Grinch?"

I want you to drag out all your favourite offbeat, alternative, funny Christmas songs.  I myself will be searching for my Spinal Tap "Break Like The Wind" record so we can play "Christmas with the Devil." Oh easy now, it's all very cheeky.  Who's got some AC/DC?

We need to sing.  Hint: Happy Birthday.

Now I expect that comments section to be hopping harder than a mosh pit.  Crash this party.  Invite all your friends.  Have a nice little escape from reality and you don't even have to dress up or drive home afterwards! Or stagger home with your arm over somebody's shoulder, if that is the way you roll.  (I don't roll.  I rock.)

PARTY ON!

Oh, and, also?  Merry Christmas, whether you like it or not!

Here's a weird thing about having an office job.

This week I get clean BEFORE going to work instead of needing a shower AFTER working.

Here's another weird thing: I'm getting paid to pick up the phone.  It took me until two hours into the first shift before I realized that I actually... kind of...hate picking up the phone.

But it's not calling for me and they don't want anything from me and I only have to push a few buttons to send the phone call to where it needs to go.  And they're paying me.  So it's okay.

Another weird thing: I'm answering phones while the salesmen are selling cars.  You know what?  I could do what they do.  I could sell pickup trucks.  I love trucks.  You might already know that about me.  I love all trucks.  GMC, Dodge, Ford.  All the trucks.

I could sell you an F-150.

One of the guys decided I'm his good luck charm because I referred to him as The F-150 Guy after he sold one, and then went and sold another one the next day.

See?  I'm good with trucks.

And here's one thing that I don't think is weird at all:

I am wearing platform wedge slingback black and white gingham shoes to work.

Now you might thing it's weird, because I wear boots a lot, and I feel like me when I'm in boots.  But I'm wearing high heels and I'm walking in them.  I am driving my truck in them.  I put 'em on and I leave 'em on.  Because you know what?  I COMMIT.

Also, they're GINGHAM.  What good country girl doesn't love gingham eh?

And they were only twelve bucks.  So I gotta wear them to justify that huge extravagant expense.

Well, that and we've only got a few nice days left before fall hits hard, so I'd like to be able to see my toes.  Soon it'll be woolly socks and I won't see my toes until, like, next May.

It's kind of interesting, doing this little temporary gig.  It's been about eighteen years since I had a job like this.  I do believe this could all come out in a book someday.  That's what happens with fiction writers. Everything in life becomes potential fiction fodder.

I don't have any Receptionist Clothes.

I'll have to fake it when I go answer phones next week.

Hey I know it's weird, me in an.... office... but they're paying me so, okay!

In my other job, I haven't started primer because I have to sand the sponge painting off the walls in the bathroom, which I'm still cleaning daily.  Just because.  The amount of nail holes in the walls is staggering.  What the heck was he doing up there in that apartment?  Actually I don't wanna know.

In my other, other job, my horses haven't been doing much this week.  I'm not sure if it's a good thing I had other work this week because I didn't have much for lessons, but I guess the timing's good.

And in my other, other, other job, I'm just burning away on my novel-in-progress like, one paragraph per day.  Okay that's not true.  It's more like one sentence at a time.  But it's in progress and I'm still fired up for it!

Also I apparently still have children!

Might not be able to blog much, but then again, I might surprise you.  I do that sometimes.

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.  

Can't talk. Pillaging.

Yep.  Reeeeally busy.

My favourite scallywag is returning with more swash and buckling!

He's back.

I knew he couldn't stay away long.

He brought along a guy who looks like ol' Captain Barbossa, but can't possibly be him what with the fancy high toned threads.  Isn't he supposed to be all filthy?  Can't be him.

He also brought along BLACKBEARD!  

And...mermaids?  

(I think they're naked.)

And it looks like the inevitable has happened: one of his ex-girlfriends has tracked him down.  This could get interesting.

(Haven't I seen them together before somewhere?)

Looks like he's still as saucy and cheeky as ever.  And troublesome.  And incredibly dirty.  

Just how I like him.

See you in a couple weeks, you drunken rum chugger.  

If you are a writer of fiction, you will understand this.

It's happening again...

Somewhere in the regular work in my day,

between loads of laundry,

trudges through the snow with the Pug,

lugging hay bales,

pushing wheelbarrows full of manure,

sweeping, sweeping, always sweeping,


my Fake People are talking again!

They are having conversations in my head, spontaneously instead of with my prompting.

I'm discovering cool things about my characters and their stories; these things stumped me a year ago.

IT'S HAPPENING!

Now I can leave my silly little one paragraph writing exercises or boring stories I'll never do anything with, and WRITE.

(All I have to do is sit, put down the book I'm reading, and unplug the internet!)

Also... I finally got my 2010 awards done.  Wanna check it out?

2011 and I are cautiously proceeding with our new relationship.

I'll say this right now though: if 2011 screws with me like 2010 did, we are OVER.  I'll skip straight to 2012, I don't care how much begging 2011 does.  I ain't puttin' up with that kind of crap again.

I'm willing to look at the positives though.

2010 gave me a few brilliant exceptions amidst all the monumental stress.

My god-daughter became the mother of a gorgeous baby boy.

My kids had a great year in the school bands.

Our house sold quickly and above asking price.

I started off the year with no students and ended the year with five.

A cute little red Quarter Horse mare came to live with me.

Does that make up for a devastating fire, the physical and financial aftermath?  Or the loss of a family member, with the legal and emotional aftermath?  The worry about the health of loved ones?  The constant stress of wrangling with debts?

Do the positives make it easier to live in a house with four adults, two teenagers and one bathroom?

Got no answer for that.

2011 is well aware that we intend to get some serious accomplishing done.  We have projects to finish and yes, more moving to do.  Those life altering changes will continue.  We have goals to reach.  By this time twelve months from now I want my husband and I living under the same roof and he won't be staying in the city five days a week.  Those debts of ours aren't really so monumental, and they're shrinking.

Therefore I have advised 2011 to stay alert, cuz things are going to happen.

And the blogging will be happening as soon as I find my iGadget so I can hook it up to the computer and get internet.... so yeah.  It's hard to find a cell phone when it's either dead or the ringer's off.  Yeah yeah, I know, way to start off the new year all organized and stuff.  I'm still ME okay?????

I'm throwing myself a big 40th birthday party on my blog and you are invited! Monday, the 20th. Be here!

Come back here on Monday for my blog party!

Aw c'mon!  It'll be fun.  I'm turning 40, dude.  Forty.  I will be Forty years old.  I will have been on this planet for 40 years.

We must celebrate.  

Besides, I plan to serve Tiny Cheeseburgers and you know you don't want to miss that.

Confused?  Let me splain it. 

In real life, I am not such a gracious hostess.  I'm just awkward that way.  But here in Blog World, I FRIGGIN ROCK WITH THE IMAGINARY PARTIES!  

You just never know who'll show up, or what could happen!

My blog parties are truly awesome.  You can eat all the imaginary food you want, pretend to drink anything you like, and there's no dress code!

I understand how socially uncomfortable it is to show up dressed inappropriately.

(What was she thinking????)

Of course, if you really want to look all spanky and formal, well, I won't send you away.

Just know that you can be totally casual at my blog parties.  

You don't have to shave.

You don't even have to get dressed if you don't want to.

I mean really, who's gonna know, right?

The best part is, because this is imaginary, you can wear whatever you want!  Surprise me!!

Now some of you may be wondering what to bring.  Bring yourself.  Bring your own beer if you like.  And for sure bring your own piglet.

 May you bring your own Puglet?

YES.

What if you are a wallaby who would like to bring an unusual pet?

Please do bring your pet.  Pets are fun.

Did I mention bring your own beer?  

OOh ooh, can you bring me a unicorn?  That would be amazing!  

IT'S GONNA BE THE MOST CRAZY FUN TIME YOU'VE EVER NOT HAD FOR REAL!

WE'RE GONNA FUN IT UP REAL HARD!  CRAZY FUN!  INTENSE FUN ONLY HAD IN OUR COLLECTIVE MINDS!  HARDCORE!

YOU CAN EVEN JUMP ON MY IMAGINARY COUCH!

Feel free to bring your musical instruments.  I'd love to have a pretend jam session.  

 Oh man, we'll rock legendarily!

This will be me, okay?

(I've got the hair for it.)

I'm gonna spend all weekend getting ready for this party.  Ah'm sooo excited!

And you know what else I'm gonna bust out at my party?  The traditional classic drink of the Christmas party season... since my birthday is so close to is on Christmas day...

...oh yeah....

...two words for you...

BLOG NOG!!!!

See you on Monday!