~Crime and Punishment~

Here is the crime you will undoubtedly hear about ad nauseam when you arrive at home in three days:

Jake had a midnight curfew (with 30 minutes of leeway) and he arrived at home at 3:00am.

I have decided that the punushment will be that I am taking away his phone until he completes three tasks:

1.  Clean the garage.
2.   Get all of the weeds out of the flower bed and yard.
3.   Organize the fire pit wood and all of the junk bikes.

When he completes those tasks, he can have his phone back.  I figure if he gets right on it, he can get his phone back Monday.  If he cries and whines and delays--it could take weeks.

He is currently sleeping and he isn't aware of the consequences of his actions, but I already know the story he is going to stick to:

They got to the top of the Butte, and Hailey lost her phone and so they had to search for it.  His phone lost battery power, so he had to turn it off, which is why he couldn't asnwer calls, texts or be pinpointed on life 360.  They had to stay and keep searching--but they were not able to find it.

His story may be true.  All of his stories for why he is late might be true.  There does seem to be a consistent pattern:  before he or Hailey leave for an extended period of time, they get together and Jake is 2-4 hours late.

I figure that Jake has decided that he is an adult and as such, he can set his own curfew.  I appreciate his efforts in stepping up and making his decisions and because of that I have decided to treat him like an adult.  One that needs to prove to us that it is worth it to pay his phone bill.  He can show us he is worth that $50 by doing chores.

If he always seems to lose battery power, or accidentally have his phone turned off when it is past his curfew and he can't call me, then I am not compelled to shell out the cash for that phone.

~The Reality Part~

You have been doing North Dakota for one year, 8 months one week and one day.

Whenever I go out, people ask me about you:  "are you still there?  Do You like it?  When will you be home? How long will you be home?  You must be making great money...right?"

I've noticed that men seem the most sympathetic when they say, "You must really miss him.  I know he must be missing all of you."

Women have more of a tendency to say things like, "It must be kind of nice when he is gone.  He is going to be home for TEN days?  I bet you will be glad to see him go."

The truth is, the way I feel when you leave has changed quite a bit over this journey.  The first few months, it was like agony watching you leave.  I walked around in your t-shirts and yoga pants, sad and lonely and physically ill.  At first, I often thought I would rather live in a trailer by the river with you, then in this nice house without you.

It took some time to realize the financial benefit to paying every bill every month, and to have left over money to catch a movie with the kids or buy a new shirt because it was on sale.

There were a few times when you came home growly and grumbly and fault finding and there were months when I was completely fine with you being gone.  I have always been happy to see you come home (mama's got needs that need to be met).  But there have been times when I was happy to see you go back.

This year has been a new phase--this year you are Mr Vacation and we are always looking forward to you coming home, and we are all always sad to see you go.

It isn't just the Cruise (best time of my life!) or the trips to Vegas or Missouri.  It isn't even over-nighters at the Fort or the nights at the cabin.  It's that when you are home you are taking care of things that need to be done and you are wonderful to be around.  You are laid back, funny, kind, sexy and you are getting the work done so we can go do something fun.

So, now you are like a man on vacation when you are home, and that is sublime.  It gives us all a vacation, even when we don't go anywhere.

When people ask me if I am secretly happy that you are gone NOW I tell them, "No, I miss him and I can't wait til he gets home."

I like this phase the best.  So far.

~Don't Stop Flirting~

This morning, I sent you another racy picture.  I started sending them this year so that you would remember what I look like.

Well, that's not true.

I send them so you can see how I look when I am standing just perfectly, sucking in my gut, perking out my boobs, wearing make-up and lots of flowing hair.  And then I crop the pictures to remove all of the things I find unsightly--like cellulite or love handles or wrinkles--and then I run the pictures through some filters to jack up the highlights and shadows and perhaps blur out my mommy belly.

Before I put on the make-up, fix the hair and pick the outfit, I clean the bedrooms so that the background looks inviting.  If I happen to get the ironing board that is covered in clothing, I crop that out.  If the bathroom door is open and you can see the pile of clothes on the closet floor, I crop that out.  I make the bed so that it looks smooth and inviting and adjust the lighting.

And while I am doing all of that, I am thinking of something witty to say, so that you think I am both sexy and funny.

All in all, I invest about an hour of time into each shot and I do it because I like to think that I am planting an image in your head of me looking all silky smooth and inviting.

We both know that if you were home and seeing me in my natural state everyday, you wouldn't have any illusions about how supple I am, you would see me everyday without filters or cropping or perfect posture or jutting breasts.

So, the picture taking thing is good and the delightful benefit is all of the flirting that goes along with it.  Oh Daddio, the way you talk to me when you are far away.  It's delightful.  It feels like dating, and it is so cool to still be dating the same man for 21 years.

Tell ya what, you keep flirting with me, and I will keep flirting with you.  I will be your girlfriend when you are out of town and your wife when you are at home.  The wife gig is pretty sweet too, because it is your wife who fulfills all the promises that your girlfriend is making.

~Nothing But The Truth~

In the last few days I have realized that you are talking to me quite a bit about Colorado, or Wyoming or Oklahoma.

I have also realized that you are at a man camp with other men who are looking at loss of wells and talking about what that holds for their future--

And I know that stewing men are worse then a gaggle of hens, I have come to understand that you are either sitting in the house stewing with the men, or out in the parking lot talking to me on the phone.  I would imagine that the sound of my melodious voice is a pleasant distraction and that when you hear me, you probably want to talk about something other than the number of loads and what it means for our future.

Having realized that my last post about Colorado is a little whiney and putting more pressure onto your already pressurized existence, I was going to delete it.

But then I realized that you don't read these anyway, it may be years before you come here.  You may never come here.  But if you do, at some time in the future, find this and read it--then it is just fine that I leave the thoughts that I was having on any particular day right where I wrote them.  Things have changed from last year, I suspect things will continue to change, this can be the record.

Today is also the day after I lied to you about the money I spent at Maverick.  When you asked what I purchased, I said "Gas" reflexively.  I lied before I thought about telling the truth.  I actually let the lie stand, I even told the kids, "If Daddio asks, we bought gas--not beer and pop".

After pulling the kids into my web of lies, I realized it was such a stupid lie, and I really don't want to get into the habit of lying to you about stupid shit, especially if I have to find a patsy to cover my story.  (Shortly after pulling the kids in, I texted you and spilled the beans about my beer and my knowledge that I was going to overdraw the account when I bought it.  Then I apologized to the kids for asking them to lie to their dad, because they should always tell you and I the truth, even when it looks bad.)

Once I get into the habit of telling little lies, then it becomes easier to tell them more often, and perhaps make them inflated.  Such as when I tell my mother I have to get off the phone because Martin is calling on the other phone.  Or when I tell you that I bought all the kids a new pair of shoes, and I conveniently forget to tell you that I also got myself a couple of cute pairs of kicks.

I am probably still going to lie about important things, like when you ask me how my day is going and I say, "Really good!" or when you ask me what I am wearing and I reply, "G-string and pasties, the usual."

But I will make an effort to more more honest about how I am throwing your cash around.  Hell, I can even be a bit more responsible and decide that not overdrawing the account is more important than a beer and a couple kid beverages.

~So...The Colorado Thing~

The buzz is in the air that you may be moving to Colorado.  I say that because I was with you when you spoke to Eric and threw your name into the hat.  I understand that a couple of your Ross room mates are also throwing their names into the hat, and I see why it would be great for them as they would be closer to home.

I also see why it would be great for you:

On and off Ramps to the highway.  No more jumping off a dirt road into 65 mph traffic
Better weather.  Colorado ain't no Paradise, but it probably won't get to -70 with white out conditions and everything covered in hoarfrost.
Cheaper.
Your water probably wouldn't be flammable.
Ross loads are slowing down.
Closer to your parents.

I can SEE why Colorado is a good idea for you, so it is odd that it makes me so uncomfortable isn't it?

From my perspective it is good or non-life changing:

Traveling from North Dakota or Colorado will take you the same amount of time, so it won't make a blip on the radar for home life.

You will be living in Colorado, I have been saying for years I would live in Colorado--it is a pretty state with healthy looking people and a lot of outdoor activities.  It still has the mountains, but it is warmer than Idaho.

However, the plan isn't for all of us to move to Colorado, it is just you moving to Colorado--and it isn't a solid plan, just a whisper in the wind of a possibility that may never amount to more than hours of hot air.

SO why does it bother me so much?

Today, as I was driving to my mother's house to help Dad put items on Craigslist, I thought about it and realized that it bothers me because it is a change that involves you moving to another state for work.

It's primary enculturation in action.  When Don left us, he said he was going to Texas for a job and he would come back to get us, which of course he never did.  Unfortunately, I was 4 years old at the time and smart enough to make the connection between, "I am moving out of state for a job" and "Sayonara suckers, I am out!"

Because I learned that lesson during my formative years, it has just become a part of my psyche--it's just there like a great white swimming beneath the surface waiting to attack.

It's cool that I figured that part of it out, now when I get that panicky, "he is MOVING out of STATE for a JOB" feeling, I can remind myself that you are not Don and I am not four years old.  You moving to Colorado simply means I have more incentive to come visit.

The other problem is that I have my compass tuned into you in North Dakota.  I know the road that I have to drive to get to you.  I know Billings is the half way point, and one of my favorite spots to visit.

If you go to Colorado, my compass is going to have to reset in a different directions, and what if I can't find my way to Rock Springs to meet you for a booty call?

Obviously that is a silly thing to fear, since I know how to get to Rock Springs.

But still, it's the internal compass getting redirected.

I have some quirks that probably make it hard to have a relationship with me.  You could say that me obsessing over where my husband is going to live next month is one of them. Or you could say, "I am exhibiting total normal marital behavior.

S0000...The Colorado thing--which may not even be a thing--It's making me as jittery as a mouse in a hen house.

Just do me a favor.  Give me some notice, don't spring it on me.

~Who's A Good Boy?~

The kids and I were talking about when you got Blue.  What they remember is Kevin stopping long enough to toss out his bed and then Blue jumped out of the back of his truck and i said, "We are not keeping that dog."

In the nine years since that day, I sure have grown fond of that ol' dog.

He is a pretty steady companion, I can always count on him to be enthused when I say we are going to the bird refuge, or the store--or just anywhere.  I have been taking him with me a lot, because I figure he should be happy during his last days.

Which are here I am afraid.

He is starting to have troubles eating and drinking.  The eating thing isn't that big of a deal because every since I heard he was fat and would eventually have eating problems, I have been feeding him up.  Table scraps by the bowl full.  Every scrap of every piece of meat, stew, lasagna--the works.  Blue dog has eaten more hot dogs in this last two months then he had for the previous nine years of his life.

His eating problems haven't really concerned me, he is still on the chubby side, but he started having problems drinking yesterday, and that is not a good problem to have.

We have known the day was coming when we are going to have to make the decision on how to handle the last days of his life.  I think those days are sneaking up fast.

But today, Blue dog was happy at the bird refuge.  

I am hoping that he holds out for one more trip to the cabin, I want him to get to spend another trip with all of us up there.  I am hoping that he stops degenerating so fast and waits until you get home because I really don't want to have to make that decision while you are in North Dakota.

Jeez, talk about a country music song lyric, "She killed my ol dog while I was hauling oil".

I also wish he would get better because I have loved having a big barking dog living with me while you are away.  And right now, he looks like he just crawled out of the Pet Cemetary so he is an even better watch dog.

Blue dog was one of the very best gifts you have ever made me take, even when I didn't want him.  I am really glad that I didn't demand you haul him to the pound, and I am thankful that you looked past his mean exterior and saw that he would be a good dog before I did.

~Fourth Of July~

    When I think back over my life and all of the Fourth of the July's that I have had, they mostly mush down into one memory of barbecues and fireworks and watermelon and babies crying in terror at their first firework show.

     But in all of those memories, one 4th of July stands out with crystal clarity, my most favorite 4th of July to date.

     The year was 1993 and I had already made you my own personal playground.  We had spent the day doing some kind of dirty work because I was a mess when we jumped into Dave's truck to head to town and see the fireworks.  I just wanted to spend time with you, didn't really want to see people when I was such a wreck. It didn't break my heart  when we got over the hill by Ramsey's training stable and the truck died.

     You pulled off to the side of the road and jumped out and popped the hood.  I was expecting some fireworks because--well Rendell--and I was a little reluctant when you slammed the hood and told me to come check it out.

     You told me the truck was stalled and we would have to sit for awhile, and then you laughed and I was overjoyed that our dead truck didn't mean the night was ruined.

     We crawled up onto the hood and leaned back against the windshield to watch the far away fireworks of Farmington and you kissed me a bunch of times and told me that this was the best fireworks show you had ever seen.

     I think the truck was vapor locked, because it started when we got into it and we managed to make it all the way back to the stables. I am pretty sure that is the first time I got busted by your mom staying at the stables the next day--we shouldn't have kept Dave's truck.

    THAT ONE, that was a great 4th of July.

    This one, not so much.

I miss you tonight.

   Next year let's plan to be together and maybe we can vapor lock a truck and make out underneath the stars.

~Two Little Things~

  I know that over our 20+ years of cohabiting I have been very good at pointing out the things that you do to piss me off, but I have been a little negligent in telling you the things that you do that make me swoon.

   The list is long. I am just going to tell you about the two latest things that make me feel, "ahhhh!"

    When we were in Missouri and we went to the Salted Duck, you asked me to dance when the meal was over.  I am pretty sure it embarrassed our children as it was only 5 o'clock and no one else was dancing, but I thought it was sweet.  Especially since the song, "Lady in Red" was the song we danced to--

    Back in the barn days, You sang that song to me a couple times.  I thought it was goofy and sweet then--dancing with you at 5 o'clock in front of our family reminded me that you are goofy and sweet and I do love that side of you.

    The other thing was the day we had been working outside and I went into the house to fold clothes--while in there I decided to "rest my eyes" for a second.  I am not sure how much time had passed when you came into the room, kissed my forehead, turned the air conditioning on and walked out shutting the door behind you.

    I know I slept for three hours, and you know how I like my sleep.  It was even sweeter with the air conditioning and forehead kiss.  It was sweetest of all because I know I caught some flack for napping in the middle of the day and Kathy told me that you said, "She needs her beauty rest" in a not-at-all snarky tone.

Ahhhh!

     There are also a lot of xrated things that you do that make me go, "ahh" and "oooh" and "ooh?" and "Umhum" and "oh yeah".  But we can talk about those at a later date.

     Today, I just wanted to point out that you are doing great with the little things. They say it is the little things that matter, and it really is.

    The big things are great--but those little extra touches remind me how lucky I am that you are my man.

~I Just Remembered~

     I gave up writing here last September, and that means I have missed many months of love letters that I should have been sending you.  I guess this would be during the dry months when the PC was broken and I was sending you texts and emails.

    I know I have said many nice things in those places, but I started this blog for you as a gift--like a peek into our home life while you were away that you could read at your leisure.  And hey!  It occurred to me that someday you might read this entire thing at your leisure and I hope that it communicates how much I love you.

    I read over the short piece that I have and noticed that the last post was lions and tigers, and that one sounds pretty bad--like a naggy wife.

    But I remembered that you and I were figuring this trucker lifestyle out and we were having our go rounds and adjustment phase.  During the night that you came to the cabin you told me to write down the things that you needed to change and you would do.

    SO I did, here in this blog...

    And it totally worked.

    For the past several months you have softened into a new and improved Martin.  You no longer use the growly voice that grates me nerves, instead you have replaced it with the soft rumbly purring voice that comes from your chest.  That voice that makes me melt, the one that makes me think, "Hell ya I would love to get you a ham sandwich!"

    You got back to being joyful around the house and amidst the mess that is our life.  I saw you smiling while you were mowing the lawn--it IS fun isn't it?

     Now when you are home, I want to be right next to you, curled up in your pocket so I can hear your heart beat and I think that you feel the same way because your eyes twinkle when you look at me and it still gives me butterflies.

     Your new gentleness has given me the desire to make you twinkle at me.

     Tonight I am cooking chicken brocolli alfredo stuffed shells.  The best part of this meal is that I know it will freeze well, so I can make some meals for the bakken box.  When you are gone, it feels like a waste of time to make really good meals (the kids are offended by this fact) but when I know that I am going to send them for your meals while you are away, it gives me the impetus to put a little extra time and effort into it.

    I like to think that when you eat your hot cooked meals, you can taste that I love you a whole bunch and that I am grateful for the sacrifice you are making to give us this new more financially secure lifestyle.

     I miss you a whole bunch when you are gone, and I love it so much when you are home.  You are pretty great, all of those sappy love songs about lighting up my life and such--

   And I mean that literally.  I love it that I can flip a switch and turn on a light, and I know you are working to pay the electric man.

   I really appreciate that-thanks love!