I’ve been in the house by myself more often in the last two weeks, and this allows me to approach the CD player without fear of being Melodyned to death and to listen to music that I want to listen to without offending my spouse’s sensitive ears and sensibilities. It most importantly allows me to give in to the high plains roots that I have. Did you know it was my first great crush’s (7th grade to summer between freshman and sophomore year) birthday this week? Facebook reminded me. This convergence gets me thinking about choices and growing up in South Dakota and imagining myself there now. What would I be like?
So I’ve been cranking up the music, adding in old favorites from the radio in Brookings back in the day as well as the ladies – Emmylou Harris, Nancy Griffith – Can I sing along? Does it make me a little misty? Well then, good stuff. John Hyatt, Little Big Town, Mark Lonsway, Christian Kane‘s new EP – I’m diving in. Turn the Radio to US99.
Didn’t I make you blush; didn’t I drive you a little crazy? Didn’t I make you think about who you are?
— from Mark Lonsway’s CD Not Your Typical Cowboy on heavy rotation on my iPod
I could have married a cowboy. Big man he was, and he had it bad for me. Scared the crap out of me actually, he had it so bad. He played football at the college, and he would come into where I worked and stare at me. I admit, I would stare right back – he was so handsome – he looked like a SD version of Tom Selleck no kidding, and he and his brothers were planning on going back to the family place out near the town where my grandmother lived. (This was country that my husband referred to as “stark” – I told him I though it was “austere.”) On our second or third date this football player gave me the whole picture of how he had it planned. We would get married, live on the farm, – perfect plan. He had a nickname picked out for me and everything. He gave me the first and, yes, only hickey (ew, gross) I ever had – and that was what scared me, well, that and the fact that the plan didn’t involve any input from me in the planning stages apparently. He was so big and so powerful that I almost couldn’t get him to stop. And he wasn’t that great of a kisser, truth to tell.
Something about a cowboy (though maybe not that one) has always been pretty compelling, though. So what would I be like?
- Living in/near Brookings or what, maybe west, closer to the River
- Singing in the Church choir
- Kids
- teaching? More than likely
- garden (of course)
- farm? (truck garden maybe – but not fields of soybeans I don’t think)
- Truck. I’d finally get that truck. No need to have a truck in the city, but if I had that big garden…
- Big, old, smart dogs. Got two now, one that is a fossil practically at 17+ yrs (shepherd/ husky/wolf) and the goofy girl dog (Siberian).
But this is not to say that I do not love the life I have. It’s remarkably consistent with that possible self. I have my farm/ 140 year old farm house in the city, three amazing daughters, music producer/engineer for a husband, two goofy dogs, and a job I enjoy.
I’ve taken more than I’ve been given
I’ve taken for granted this life I’m livin’
I don’t know why heaven above
Blessed me with your sweet love
Though I never tell you what you’re worth
It’s more than I deserve – More Than I Deserve by Christian Kane
This is just a rumination on choices and trajectories and free will and love songs.
Especially love songs.
guitar image by keela84
Living on the Lip of Insanity 
And who’s to say? You *could* have said yes to the cowboy, and still ended up where you are now. Depending on what the universe had in mind for you. It would have been a very different path, for sure.
And yes, wish we *could* be there for breakfast 🙂
You are right about saying yes. And I still could go back to SD someday. What the universe demands, asks, has in mind is only to discover as we discover it. But I think saying yes to the cowboy would have meant no Magic Sam.
And I will post that recipe for beignets, so we can have breakfast together but in separate cities. And should you all ever travel our way, you can stay with us and I promise chicory coffee and piles of beignets.
Oh yes, recipe would be great.
Heeding (and hearing) warning bells and listening to one’s intuition, I think that is we become adult. Knowing how to pay attention to those signals and maybe not going with something easy or convenient when there are warnings everywhere.
It’s up – at my family food blog
Growing up and being adult. Two different things. I guess I should tell my daughters about this guy and one other who I never talk about to anyone.
And – Christian Kane – music? I have to take a listen to that. Any recommendations where to start?
If you are an “urban country” music fan, then you can go to his website. He’s got an EP on iTunes and a bunch of stuff up on MySpace. He’s a singer songwriter. I like More Than I Deserve and his Let’s-Have-Fun anthem “House Rules.”
Right up front i will confess that i’m cynical, however… “…the fact that the plan didn’t involve any input from me in the planning stages …” set off alarm bells in my head. You know, “DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!” alarm bells.
Maybe with the *right* cowboy, things could have been idyllic, but something about that specific cowboy just gives me the feeling that you would have been teaching only if *he* allowed it.
Over the years i’ve learned to listen more closely to that voice inside when it tells me that something’s not quite right. It’s predicted business deals that were bad news, and people that were not what they seemed. i guess that cowboy was a trigger for me, LOL.
But i do find it intriguing that your current life has many parallels with that potential life. Maybe we gravitate in a certain direction, if you will, and our occasional detours are only variations on that direction….
Oh, I heard those same warning bells! Between ‘the plan’ and the unwanted, attempted to be avoided hickey (he was so strong) this man scared the crap out of me. I know that he was the wrong cowboy. I also know how compelling that cowboy was.
I have three daughters. One could date if she chose. Two are entering 8th grade and will date in high school (they are already asking), and I hope that my girls hear and react to those warning sirens.
But living in the country, that still appeals to me. I’ve built the closest thing I can afford to it here in the city.
i understand that – i grew up on the edge of a regional park, not farmland, but, trees! i love the woods. i miss it where i live now, but, at least there are mountains nearby. Even if they’re baby mountains, LOL. The oak trees around my house are tall enough now to give me shade and the illusion of isolation on my deck, and that works for me. i like where i’m living now, i can’t complain 🙂
As a fan of Steampunk, i found this article on a Steampunk LJ community. But you might find it interesting in terms of how this woman set about achieving her dream home: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/24/garden/24cottage.html?no_interstitial
Love that house/cottage! My dream house has three bathrooms (too many girls to be any other way) and it is also the recreation of a childhood home. My Grandmother Tabor’s house had magic spaces, a garden, and room to dream. I’ve got a side yard that is situated so that from the back porch I feel like I’m not in the city. Fruit trees, vegetable garden, and the neighbor’s 19th century barn/garage. We have a playhouse that gets played ON more than IN, and in the back yard we have a bench swing. I have a four/five cook kitchen that attracts more than just fruit flies. Nothing else matters. Family, food, friends. Lucky me.
Hah! i see no “reply” link to your #8 comment! But here is my dream house (plan that is):
http://www.housemouse.net/ebooks/plan0104.htm
If i can’t build it to live in, i want to build a scale model for my Poppets to live in 😀
It’s beautiful! A real dream of a home. I hope you can build it for YOU and your poppets.
Songs will get you kilt….
And stories will save your life.
I hope your summer is going well, Umberto Ecco and all!