Thursday, April 2, 2009

New Englander Nears 2nd Anniversary of Living on the High Plains

You know you’re in [eastern] New Mexico when:

...It's 72 degrees outside and the weather channel tells you that it's fixin' to blizzard in a couple of hours. And it does.

...You don’t even notice any more that the wind blows a lot of the time, but you do notice that you have stopped combing your hair. Ever.

...You haven’t seen a man in a business suit in years, and if you did he would look reeeeal funny. Men look just right in cowboy boots and cowboy hats and those long, lean jeans. Jes’ right.

...You think,
that’s the way the Good Lord meant for men to dress, even inside of your own head.

...You no longer stop and think
hey, those are hymns about the background music they play in stores. You get "The Old Rugged Cross" stuck in your head for days.

...You’ve seen Pat Boone at Cowboy Church, still looking good after all these years in cowboy boots and cowboy hat and those long, lean jeans, and have thought nothing of it.

...You even know what Cowboy Church

...You also know what a piggin’ string is and no longer think it’s gross when they carry it in their teeth.

...You nod knowingly when a man confesses, "
Life just ain't right if I don't get to rope every day."

...Flat land looks just about right now, and you’ve gotten scared by a TV car commercial where the car is tooling along right in the mountains, next to a big drop-off, with no guard rail. White knuckled, heart-poundingly scared by a TV car commercial.

...The only drop-offs we have here on the side of the roads are called bar ditches and they only drop off a few inches.

...That cow-y smell comes rolling through town and you think one of two things. 1)
oooh, it’s just like living [jes’ lack livin’] out on the ranch or 2) ahhh, that good ol’ smell of money.

Help me! Ah’m fixin’ to assimilate.


the7msn said...

Too late. Yer done ass-i-mil-i-a-tin' ...'cept fer those big words you keep pullin' out. Welcome home.

Sylvia K said...

What a hoot! I love it! Does take me back to my days in west Texas!
I worked so hard to get rid of my Texas accent but after all these years people will still ask me if I'm from the south! They can't place me in Texas, but they surely know that I'm not from the northwest! Fun post!!

Judy said...

Sounds like you have adapted to living on the High Plains very well. I know all about those cowboys and jeans and boots. My girls dad was all cowboy. Now I have two cowgirls that barrel race and wear those same long jeans. Really enjoyed this post!

June Saville said...

Clair that is such a hoot of a post!
Assimilate? Care is required. Remain your charming self please.

By the way I have posted the final episode of 'Paternity', Pip's mystery story on Journeys in Creative Writing - I think you have been following it ...

Beth said...

This is hilarious, Clair! Hey, we have a Cowboy Church here in the NC mountains, too. No Pat Boone, though.

Okay, I've gotta know----what's a piggin' string?

clairz said...

So glad you asked, Beth. I noticed at a chuckwagon breakfast that some of the young men had short ropes slung over their shoulders. A lovely cowboy nearby explained it to me, telling me it was called a piggin' (pigging) string and that it was used to tie the calf's feet together once he was roped and down.

Sure enough, I watched closely during the calf roping later and when a cowboy chased after a calf, he would swing one big rope to lasso the calf, while holding a much smaller one in his teeth. Once the calf was roped, the cowboy would leap from his horse and use the short rope to tie up the calf's feet.

Mmm, tasty piggin' string, carried in the teeth.