Tag Archives: country

Music That’s Hitting the Spot Right Now


It’s rare that I find music that truly hits the spot with me, but I’ve done it!  Bwahahaha.

Something in my soul is yearning for the cold metal of a tailgate on the back of my thighs while a fire heats my shins.  I want to lock eyes with Mike while the smoke tangles in our hair and beer bottles sweat in our hands. I want the pinch of a sunburn on my shoulders and the pink in my cheeks, to trade snow boots for flip-flops and freedom. My hands miss the calluses of hard labor and I’m nostalgic for the pain my shoulders after 8 hours at the factory.  Late nights, early mornings, sunsets bleeding into sunrises and a day of barely being able to keep my eyes open.

While there are aspects of a blue collar life that are unbearable in the eyes of some, I can’t help but admire those people who have dedicated themselves to hard work and to see their lives through rose-colored glasses.

I think that’s why I like this music…  It has the power to make me feel this way, to ignite that burn in my muscles that’s so familiar, yet merely a ghost of a memory.  When I hear it, I can smell summer corn floating on the air and I can faintly taste the well water from jelly jars.

You’ll be doing yourself a favor to listen if you’ve ever felt like I have.  Here you go:

Turnpike Troubadours

American Aquarium

Ballroom Thieves

J. Charles and The Trainrobbers

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Posted by on January 14, 2014 in Daily Happenings


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On a Mission to Re-Style…and Re-Identify

I’m in between styles right now.  Among styles?  Without a style?  I’m not sure what the right preposition is…but I’m afraid it’s much more than style.

I do not have much of an identity.  My boss calls me “Country”, but I no longer dress full-on country or participate in country activities regularly.  But I would like to take up camping and shooting guns.

I really like big diamonds, expensive purses, and fancy things…but I’m not a fancy girl.  I’m cheap, and I’m a bargain hunter, and I don’t really dress the style of the fancy lady.

I dig the style of the 1950’s housewife, but starting to dress that way now, well, people would just call me a rockabilly.

I’m no longer a hippy like I was in college.

I do still wear that skirt, though.

So what am I?  I mean, I am starting to lose myself here.

I’m calling for a mission–a mission I will give to myself.  A mission to Re-Style and Re-Identify who I am and what I love.

Each day, no matter what I post about, I’m going to make a statement about something that I like, do not like, etc.  I’ll also be posting potential Re-Style / Re-Identify pictures on my Mission to Restyle Pinterest board.  Maybe that’ll help…

So today:  I hate skinny jeans.  Although this is fairly obvious, I just thought I’d throw it out there.



Posted by on March 1, 2012 in Daily Happenings


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They Call Me “Country”

My CEO has nicknamed me “Country”.  It could have been the big belt buckle I wore one time (thanks, Jenny), or my not-so-quiet love of big trucks and men who do manly things.  It could have been my request to wear overalls on Fridays, too…

And I kept thinking, “What does it really mean to be country?”

I grew up in Fremont–not quite on a farm, not quite in the city.  I ate mud as a kid, had pet toads, played with bugs, shot guns, tried beer for the first time at a relatively young age, and have an odd love for 4-wheelers.  But is that what makes you country?  Maybe it’s because I climb a lot of trees.  If you ask me (which you all inadvertently did when you started reading my blog), being country means a few things.  Let’s just skip right past the deer-shootin’, beer-drinkin’ stereotypes and get into what it really means to be country.

It means being capable.  The real country is a rough place, and if you don’t know what to do to survive, if you’re incapable of thinking on your feet and doing whatever it takes to make it to the next day, you’re going to die.

It means developing compassion, but not to a fault.  Decisions must be made in the country.  Think of it this way–do you swerve to avoid a squirrel but end up putting your truck in a ditch and causing damage?  Or do you hit the squirrel and get on with your life (and maybe scoop it up for some squirrel stew)?

It means making decisions and not lingering on things that you cannot change.  “Woops, hit a squirrel, now where’s my chainsaw?  Granny’s waitin’ for me to cut down her tree.”

It means not being too sensitive.  It was just a squirrel–geez.

It means appreciating the simple things in life, like having enough food to keep the family fed or a beautiful sunset.

It means knowing that you are but a small spec in the scheme of things.

It’s independence and knowing you can rely on your family and your neighbors.

It means trying it by yourself, and being able to ask for help if you need it.

And it means knowing how to sit back and watch the world go by for a bit.

If that’s what my CEO meant, I’ll take it.  But I have a feeling he thinks I chew tobacco and shoot guns on the weekends.  I’ll shoot guns, but I’ll take my tobacco in the form of a cigarette.  🙂




Posted by on October 17, 2011 in Daily Happenings


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