That's a Wrap!

In 2014 I have talked more about lead changes than any other singular subject. I'm not even close to kidding and you'd think I'd be sick of it by now.
I got so hot while I was out riding that I was either going to die or start crying. I didn't die...but the second one I'll just leave unsaid.
I got pushed pretty close to my limits and said words I'm not exactly proud of. And that was really good for me.
I made A LOT of mistakes. A lot. That was good for me too.
Along with those mistakes I made poor choices, paid for and learned from them.
I achieved a monstrosity of things.
And it was frickin awesome.

I found a little something that I think is worth the thought:

This inspired me to think about how my year shook out. 

At the beginning of 2014 I made a couple goals and I'm awfully pleased to say that I made them happen. 

I'm not big on New Year's resolutions. I think that if you feel you need to resolve your life every single year that maybe you should for real one time. That being said I think the new year is good time to set some goals.

Here we are with 2015 dawning, make the most of it :)

-Gussie

The Inside Scoop

We disappeared for a spell. The entries were vague. The words I typed had been scribbled months ago and posted after the blood was dry.
I decided to be a little more present. A little more here if you will.
So I'm assuming it'd be helpful if I kind of gave you the run down of you know, our lives.

THE BIGGEST NEWS

      Kricket is married.

      Whoa! Jump back!

      Yes, I know! It's still settling with me too.

She's like disgustingly in love...they both are. And it. Is. Adorable.
Their little story entails the kinds of things I personally lay on my bed dreaming about.
      Flowers delivered when you're sick. Adorable gestures and lovely compliments. Branding together for hells sake. 
The lovely groom, Will and Kricket are living in Wyoming and I get pictures of them feeding together almost daily and it melts my heart.

There's a little update for you.

G'night

Gussie

Hey, I finally wrote something!

Sometimes I'll sit down to write a post for this forgotten and neglected blog and then click out because I don't know what to say. It feels like I owe you some sort of eye opening content that will result in jaw drop and awe. Then I realize that I have nothing and postpone one more week. Other days I'll start typing and feel like I need to preach something or plop some remarkable and profound information in your lap. I don't have any of that either. All I really have to say is that while I would love to have something to teach you, I am empty handed. I've been learning. That's where I've been - there and about a 100 other places. My mind's been awfully cluttered with love and horses and things of that nature that've sort of meshed together at this point. I'll try to come around a little more often. You know, whenever I figure out what to say!  :)

(If you there is any particulars ya'll would like, or a post suggestion, I'm all ears! Comment below or on Facebook!)

Thanks
Xoxo
Merry CHRISTmas

~Gussie

Fire in our fingertips.

The red and the white of the ambulance lights dancing.
The blood is spilled and yet still gushing.
We stand flirting with death, smiles on our faces and fire in our fingertips.
We are waiting.
Waiting for what the red cross says.
Wondering if he is hospital bound.
Wondering if he can see or think or breathe.
And still we are all sitting on the very animals that can so easily inflict death, watching the ambulance lights dance with prayers on our lips and fire in our fingertips.

~gussielou

Good Opportunities!

Gussie here!

Lately I've been a busy little bee and quite honestly a sidetracked soul!

I've been on so many fun adventures! (which yes, I went to the first football game that I've been to in 5 years. But I only went for 3 minutes... ok again with the sidetracked thing)  Anyhow! I have had a great opportunity plopped into my lap!

I've been able to go ride with a cutting horse trainer a couple of times and hopefully more to come! I'm super stoked about getting to learn so many new things and improving my horsemanship! Really all I can say is that there is definitely always something you don't know and more to learn! Take advantage of all of life's great opportunities!

Luvs, Gussie

I Want

I want to feel better.
I want my eyes to only ache because there is dust in them.
I want to cough on branding smoke instead of exhaust fumes.
I want to see the land sprawled out and painted like a canvas map for my horse's hooves to roam.
I want to smell horse sweat and feel beads of it running down my face.
I miss seeing hooves slinging dirt across acres after a renegade heifer.
I haven't forgotten the feeling of turning a cow on the fence.
I haven't forgotten the pride which is in long manes and mustache knotted tails.
I want sage brush to buff against my legs and I want the sun to burn hot on my chaps.
I want wooden heeled boots puffing at the dusty desert's heart.
I want spring water on my lips and saddle pads that know nothing of being dry.
I want my hands to be cracked and bruised.
I want to hear a diesel engine growl into the morning darkness and I want to hear your voice in the old wooden tack shed.
I want to hold your callused hand.
I would cry your name into the desert if you weren't here.
I want to know better the minds of horses.
I want the tops of my hands to be red and my muscles aching.
I want my spurs to be rusted and know the hides of many horses.
I want my favorite color to be spring.
I want my horn wrap to be glassed over and blue.
I want my ropes to be melted and frayed and my boots and saddle to tell more stories than my lips.
I want the brim of my hat to shade my green eyes and I want that palm leaf almost worn through.
I want to know the country side, to know every canyon and every spring.
I want to doctor calves in the moonlight.
I want to become alike my role model.
I want the pages of my bible to look like they've been through hell.
I want to see my sister's braid dangling by her cantle bind.
I want my hands to have shaped words upon paper.
I want my heart to know God better.
I want to thrive in this heaven on earth.
I want to watch it play out through the tall desert grass fresh dewed by midnight's rain.

~Gussie

Fairytales

If I knew how I felt, I'd tell you. I really would;
But the music is too loud and my thought process is blurry.
Blurry all but Jesus and horses.
That's what stands at the end of my tunnel vision.
The sides are littered with handsome smiles and cowboys and ropes, you and the books I read last month.
They just fade in and out of perspective;
one minute in a state of perfection, the next a repetition of last night's terrors.
It's agonizing, the way it all whirls around like the hurricane that it is.
At the same instance, it has a sense of allure and charm, kind of like you.
The curtain falls each night like the end of a scene when the actors drop their masks and their faces beheld.
Acting starts in strife for perfection and ends in habit.
You become your mind's best self meanwhile destroying the originality and loveliness of who you genuinely are.
Truth be known, I've been acting for a while and I'm trying to learn how to act like me again.
Stop acting, I beg you.
Your dreams that lie each night on the dark side of your eyelids, listen to them. They are the prettiest things.
Now do you see?
It's obvious that if I knew how I felt, I'd tell you, I really would, but I can't even keep my nightmares and fairytales straight.

photo cred: google

Fire

I've grown accustomed to fire.
I'm even learning to breathe it.
If I want to win I'll have to drink it in like life water.
My inner turmoil will have to be drowned by dust and arena lights.
My doubts and fears will shutter at the sound of my war cries.
Grit will have to well up in the pit of my stomach and overflow out my throat.
I'll have to feel every inch of my body burning, and I'll love it.
I'll live for it.
I'm going to have to learn that focus is a state of mind not a mood; intensity is a choice not an emotion.
My demons will be shrieking their giddy laughter and my angels will be flailing to save me.
That's how I want it.
That's how it's going to be.
Everything I've longed for is slamming into my lap and I will fight for it.
I'm not letting go.
Not for a second.
So I'll douse myself in fire and let it wash over me and I'll run through it like a child in the rain.
I want to be baptized in it.
I'm looking for it and praying for it.
It's coming.
And I'm scared for you because my fire is burning,
and I'm going to pitch gasoline on it and let it burn.

~Gussie

The way the clouds kiss the sun goodnight..

I like the way the clouds kiss the sun goodnight and how they knead and fold over each other.
I like the smell of salty horse sweat, the kind that sticks to your skin and I like the way manes wave like a queen's hand, just as fitting as royalty.
The way the sun glares at my skin feels good.
I like my black leather jacket that hugs me at night and I love my spur's song.
I love the way a horse's breathe beats against the wind harmonizing with each foot fall.
I like the feel of tight broken in boots and the rocking of a loping horse.
I like it when my lips are painted and my face is covered in dirt.
I like the thrill of everything.
I like the thrill of horses moving beneath me and I like throwing my saddle over a big horse's back.
I like their oily hides greasing up my finger tips and their dark, secret holding eyes.
I liked it when you were around, I think I like it better now that you're not tho.
You were good at being bad for me, and I loved it.
I like memories and dreams.
I like horses lungs inhaling and exhaling in the same rhythm as mine and I love the way the deep blue sky kisses the moon good morning.

Rain

Rain patters down on the tin roof and it's a cold day in June.
Thank You Lord for the moisture.
It's good to know you again rain slicker.
The dirt is gonna be good, all soft and deep.
A new horse stands out in the stall. She's kind of pretty, how she's all dark and shiny.
Puddles are forming at the feet of the horses.
Water is still escaping from the arms of the clouds.
I love it <3

Just Do It

Stay stronger than what hurt you and don't ever be afraid of the dust in your rearview.
Learn to protect yourself. Your heart and your body.
Always carry a knife.
Listen to your music too loud and don't turn it down at the stop lights.
Better yet, go somewhere that doesn't even have stop lights.
Don't be afraid of kisses.
Remember that everyone has a past. Just like you do.
That's the beauty of it all, we've all done something we wish we hadn't.
But it is better to regret doing something than to regret doing nothing at all.
I write more to tell myself something than to tell you.
I'm not preaching.
Pain is something that can be overcome, it's not permanent.
Stop being worried that you're going to look back someday and wish you had done something.
Just do it.
And when they ask why, say "Nike said so."

~G 

A Bridle Horse Sun and A Buckin Horse Moon

A Buckin Horse Moon

Under a buckin horse moon somewhere laid a bronc stomper with dust on starched jeans and long fringed rodeo chaps.

Somewhere lying still beneath the same moon was a cowboy girl with dust on starched jeans and long fringed armitas.

The cowboy bounced from town to town running the rodeo trail.

He'd ride one here and there, get pitched off one only every once in a while.

Rodeo season and branding time came around alike, so while he was out covering rank ones, she was throwing lines in the smoke of a branding fire.

A bridle horse sun burned hot as summer rolled into view.

Broncs bucked hard beneath the bright lights for the cowboy, and cowhorses moved like silk beneath the cowboygirl.

After long, hot days below a bridle horse sun, along came a buckin horse moon and beneath it, the world seemed to mesh well.

So with all the forces working together like, romance and love began to unfold between the bronc stomper and the cowboy girl.

It went that for a time that the buckin horse moon was the only witness to this love.

Though one day, beneath a Santa Barbara bitted sun, the cowboy girl was seen in the stands twirling the rings on her fingers as the cowboy got down in the chutes.

Soon after, the sun became a witness to it all, though the moon had seen it first.

After a while and a good long talk, so it was, the true love that played out in the spotlight of the bridle horse sun and the bucking horse moon.

And sometimes you can still see them running beneath that glow.

Photo Credit: Kricket Keetch

I wrote this quite a while ago kind of in light of some friends that I really look up to! Found it in a stack of papers today, hope you liked it! :) (leave some feedback in the comments if you like! - we LOVE hearing from you all!!)

Have a great day!! <3 

~Gussie

Alive

Being crazy isn't over-rated.
More than once I've been titled "obnoxious", "rebel" and "wild."
That's as much intentional as natural.
I guess it's just the way I'm wired.
To me, alive feels like wind. The kind that grabs all of your hair and pulls it in a good way. The kind that catches in your lungs and takes your breath from you.
Alive feels something like the way your heart jumps seeing blue lights in the rear view and then flying right past you.
It's sitting out the truck window with your hair down when he's driving way too fast.
Alive goes something like deep conversations on long gravel roads.
Drinking too much coffee and getting up too early, watching the sun come up between your favorite pony's ears is feeling alive.
It's long kisses and rough hands.
It's that fine line between thinking you're gonna die and living.
That fine line between thinking you're going to get caught and getting away.
I don't want the kind of crazy that steals your phone and accuses you of cheating.
I want the mystery kind of crazy.
Alive is an edge. A sharp one. One that has blood stains and daffodils and feathery, white clouds.
It's feels like the adrenalin rush when a colt bogs his head beneath you and you stick him.
Alive to me is just feeling. Something. Anything. Emotion.
I would rather cry, giggle hysterically, fury, scream and grin than to lethargically watch my world pass by.
I want to see it. Touch it. Hear it. Feel it. Be it.
I don't want to feel like I'm not moving or living.
Alive; that's the way I like to feel.
And if crazy is what alive feels like, I want to be crazy.
Go be alive.
Even if it means you are a rebel. Hell some of the coolest people I know are rebels. Like my mom. She's a badass and that's one of the things she got titled.
Life's too short to not feel alive.

Luvs, Gussie

Without The Engraved Picture Frame

Writers feel deeply.
That is why they can take your darkest fear and tear it's guts out to let it lay in a rawness that you've been needing to see it in.
It's myth that those who feel deeply aren't tough. That myth couldn't be more opposite from the truth.
It is easy to hide feelings you don't have. But to feel and burn and bleed over something that you can never express is harder than hell.
It feels like raindrops, ones made of fire, are spitting down your neck and in your face. And they are screaming their name and crying out the pains of their own.
Writers can read your eyes and spill their tears as drops of ink.
They see the world without blinders. Without the engraved picture frame. The desert is a desert. They see all the ugly, disgraceful and painful pieces.
Writers are real. They are not people who wake up shining their own ray of sunshine. They step on boots and spur rowels in the night, and cuss. They look in the mirror at tangled hair and tired eyes. They cry and scream and curse a name into the thundering night.
When you read something that moves you, it moves you because it's real. Because real is life and life is real.
If I said, tomorrow you will wake up with the sun streaming in and birds singing on your windowsill. I'd be lying. Or you'd think I was Disney.
I guess that's just something on my mind. Something I've been thinking.
That doesn't mean if you don't write that you don't feel deeply. I think in some way everyone is scarred. And in some way, everyone expresses the feelings they can't say.
Sometimes it just seems that's easier to see in writers.

Have a good night everyone!
-Gussie

Top 15 Summer Songs

Top 15 songs to get you pumped for and through summer!

1. A Little Bit Country--Adrian Buckaroogirl
   This song is just wonderful :) 
2. Pour Some Sugar On Me--Def Leopard
   Old obnoxious rock is just good.
3. Amazing Grace--O'Conner Mark
   This version is instrumental and it's really beautiful! I like to listen to it before a rodeo or times when I'm nervous or stressed!
4. Oh Tonight--Josh Abbott Band
5. The Night Is Young--Kyle Park
6. How She Rolls--Chase Rice
7. Slow Hand--Conway Twitty
8. Went For A Ride--Radney Foster
9. Two Dozen Roses--Shenandoah 
10. Tonight We Ride--Tom Russell
11. Pony--Ashley Monroe
12. Wear My Ring--Bart Crow
13. Cowboy Cadillac--Brenn Hill
14. Trouble--Wade Bowen
15. Someday Soon--Suzy Bogguss 

A lot of these songs are oldies, but definitely good ones!! :)

Luvs, Gussie!

Porches, Kitchens and Saddle Shops

When I was little I remember thinking, I don't want to learn from my mistakes because that looks like it hurts.
From the get-go Mom has been the best friend, mother and the best place to go for advice.  And that is lucky, because unfortunately, I hear and see a lot of kids saying how much they dislike their parents and I can't really even imagine that.  So it was pretty handy to learn from her mistakes instead of mine.   When I thought that, the idea was to skate through life.  I would listen to all that Dad had to say concerning horses and then in doing so, I wouldn't have to learn the hard way.  I juiced Mom for what all the "right" things to do were, then I wouldn't be wrong.  I listened to grandpas on porches and grandmas in kitchens, I listened to horse trainers and cowboys in saddle shops, I listened to girls go on about boys thinking I would figure them out(I haven't) and I listened to my teachers.  I'm still listening.  I still have a lot to learn.  My misconception was that I thought if I listened and learned everything I could, I wouldn't get hurt, or screw up or have a moment of idiocy and embarrassment.  All of this advice that I've sucked in has helped me a lot and even though I haven't always followed it exactly, I wouldn't change my knowing it.  I just thought I wouldn't have to hurt.  That is a funny thing.  It doesn't matter that I heard and listened to all of this, I still get hurt, I still screw up and I'm still beating myself up for my cow-work at that show.  I mean I've talked to trainers, showers, cowboys and Dad (who can be all of those things at once) and they've told me how to do it right.  And I knew how to do it right, but it just didn't happen.
The thing is, no matter how hard you try to avoid it, mistakes will happen.  I mean after all the saying "We're only human." is spot on.  So I'm not trying to have a moment of profoundness, or give you advice.  Frankly, I feel weird when people ask me or I give people advice because I feel like I'm too young and inexperienced to be advising people on life.  All I really want you to get out of this is that advice is going to help you, but mistakes are still going to happen.
The next time you find yourself regretting something, remember that mistakes are for you to learn from not dwell on.  And I'm working on that too.


Have a lovely night!
XOXO
Gussie

Happy Saturday

Happy Saturday morning from me (Gussie) and the fluffy red dog sitting next to me!
Krick, Dad and the Mums set off on a little adventure to Wyoming this morning while Zane and me watch the pups.
Sometime when you have a spare moment or two, sit down, watch an old movie, drink a hot cup of coffee and snuggle a dog.
And most of all....

Happy day all!!

Gussie

photo credit: tumblr

Passion.

Passion.

Luvs, Gussie

At 3:30 in the Morning

Before I throw this poem out here, I want to give a little bit of background information. I wrote this while Kricket was working in Colorado. I knew it was going to be hard letting my sissy go, and everyone kept saying it wasn't as hard as I had it imagined...but I thought it was harder! So here is what came out when I spilled my guts on a paper last October.

At 3:30 in the Morning
I miss just the two of us in the truck, flying down the freeway at 3:30 in the morning. 
I feel lost in the driver's seat without you to my right.
The truck feels empty on the way to a rodeo.
The truck feels empty on the way to anywhere.
The tack room feels off without your saddle on the rack.
I don't feel right walking anywhere being just one of the two of a kind.
I feel like my other half has dissolved and I just keep wishing it would reappear. 
There's one less coffee cup since you've gone.
One less saddle, one less hackamore, one less braid and one less heart.
Mine's just here wishing for you.
My hat sets lonely on the hat rack, my ragged old boots have lost their accomplice on the mud room floor.
Your horse is nickering for you from where he stands in the pasture, wondering just where you've run off to. 
But you've gone to where I always talk about; to ranker horses and different country.
Drifting on the breeze just like the old time cowgirls did.
So I whisper "Goodnight, sis." to the darkness knowing that you're doing the same and wishing we were in a beaten old truck, flying down the freeway at 3:30 in the morning.

Loves, Gussie <3

I Want, I Miss, I Wish

The little black face of a puppy lays near my arm.

Her feet twitch to what I imagine is a dream about snotty steers and games of the puppy sort.

Moccasins on my feet and the rings on my fingers are cold.

It feels like spring outside.

The sun is shining.

The hot sensation on my back that I have missed since fall dawned on me.

My arm is aching.

I think I'm having roping with-drawls.

It's finally starting to dry out; slowly but surely, the arena will be ready to disc.

Shaggy hair on muddy, gritty horse hides.

I don't have me figured out.

I miss the smell of fairgrounds.

The dirt in the air, horse sweat.

I miss the sound of fairgrounds. 

Spurs on muddy boots, creased hat brims and the devious smiles that glint off cowboys' faces.

I miss nights that never seemed to end.

Nights that started with ropes and ended with laughter and truck exhaust in the air and butterflies in my stomach.

I want rope burns on my on my skin.

I want pressure from a dragging calf running through the rope that crosses my leg.

I want my feet on the edge of a fire and a strong arm around my shoulders.

Hats on saddle horns.

Lips stained with a matte shade of red.

Dogs whining to have a hand run across their coat.

Ropes hanging from everywhere and styrofoam cups leftover from Dr. Pepper runs.

Striped lines pass underneath hats on a dash and smiles stained with lipstick and coffee.

There's something happy that I find about tanned skin and a lot of it.

Cut off shorts and reservoirs.

Cut off shorts and laceless roper shoes.

Cut off shorts and long legs that should be tanner than they are.

Strong hands and the kinds of scars that are attractive.

The kinds of scars that make you look tough, the kinds with a story.

I think I'm crazy and then I think I have it figured out, only to remember my insanity.

Fuzzy static of speakers getting drowned out by hysterical giggles and voices that don't have a hope in the singing world.

I want to read.

I want to stay up too damn late and drink coffee to early.

I want to live.

I'm gonna live.

XOXO

~Gussie Lou

Valentines Day and LOVE

Yes, we all know it is Valentines Day and it is supposed to be ever so romantic.

And if you have a significant other and you can spend it with them, you definitely should be spending it with them and enjoying each other's company!

BUT

I also think it is a perfect time to think about LOVE in general.

Like how

LOVE NEVER FAILS!

Try to

And remember

But most importantly...

Remember how God showed His LOVE for us

<3

 

Happy Valentines Day!!!

Love,

Kricket (And Gussie)

None of the photos in this post are mine, they are courtesy of Google Images.

Border Signs

Border Signs

The smog that lurks just beyond the sign

The love and the land that we're leavin behind

The border line.

The Elko town casinos

The Elko town bars

The rearview mirror scene of ours.

The horses, the hats, the cowboys and ropes

They stand behind us with bowed heads and our hopes.

Mountains and white lines

Sagebrush and speed limit signs.

With dreary hearts and lingering souls we drift on out of old Elko.

Coffee still on our breathe

And like a traitor to my own heart

I find us driftin farther apart. 

A haunting feelin dances in the air

And it just don't seem quite fair.

So with Nevada in our hearts

And Utah on our minds

We'll be wherever our road finds

Forever haunted by these border signs.

❤ Gussie

"The glory of friendship. . ."

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, Nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when they discover that someone else believes in them and is willing to trust them."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

-Gussie

. . . Cowboys and Cattle Land...A Little Old Bunkhouse . . .

Cowboys and cattle land
A little old bunkhouse.
Dust in the summer
Blizzard scar in the winter
Wind through the pines.
A creek littered with laughing children in wet denim
Unraveled braids
Mischievous smiles masking pure hearts.
Horse hair and sweat.
Perfected biscuit recipe
Baked golden like the horse that shares its name.
Wiry strands of creamy mane lace my fingers.
Conchos show the sun to itself.
Broncs have run these corrals
Their hooves have acquainted with the cedar.
Black and white cow dogs trot beside a young boy on a big sorrel.
Cow-calf pairs drift on.
Bulls butt heads, throwing 2000 pounds one way then the next.
83 years of experience, memories and heart sit atop a paint
And grandma cusses in the kitchen.
Fresh air tastes better spiced with freedom
And we bounce in our innocence and happiness.
Silk and slides smile beneath smiles.
Metal rattles at the gravel.
Shiners beneath felt laugh at the world from their black and blue.
Fresh horses shake out in steep country.
God smiles upon the land
The horses
The buckaroos and buckaroogirls.

♡♡♡
Luvs, Gussie

 

Carl and I sorting last summer

Reminiscing Summertime

Reminiscing Summertime

Like in summertime when skin is tan and lips are red.

When horses are shiny and sleek and silver bits are tarnished and rusty.

When the ground is dusty and soft and we forget our frozen worries.

When wild rags are loosely tied and big concho earrings dangle by our necks.

When tank tops leave flaxen shoulders and rope burned hands to show.

When everything isn't done with frozen fingers and sweat beads roll down our cheeks.

When boots aren't just frozen clods of mud and the trucks don't fight to start.

When bones get broken in the heat and coffee is still a necessity.

Like when bikinis and boots go together.

When white smiles shine beneath straw hats.

I miss the cock-hipped ponies standing at the rail.

When the smell of horse sweat is worn as often as my favorite perfume and when the sun yellows my braided hair.

When blood becomes the new favorite color and tears and sweat run like creek water.

When bright eyes meet each morning and coffee kisses the ponies good day.

Like in summertime when skin is tan and lips are red.

Gussie