12 July 2009
to have my husband's boots waiting for him in the hallway. i dreamed that i would marry some rancher and live on some 1,000 acres out in the middle of nowhere in a beautiful stone house with a wrap-around porch with rocking chairs. i've dreamed this for as long as i can remember. i'm cowboy, well... as much as i can be. my family is cowboy, thru and thru. it's in my blood. it's home. i guess that's why living in the city is "cramping my style" if you will.
but this is what i wanted. a tall, rugged cowboy wearing wranglers, pearl-snap shirts, and his favorite cowboy hat to call me his. and i waited. and waited. and waited some more.
and then i met "him". i'll never forget the day that he came to pick me up for our first date. wranglers.. check. hat... check (well it was a baseball hat, but that works too). boots... check, but they weren't the retro squared toe with a riding heel that i had invisioned. shirt.... a nice t-shirt. okay, half check. it wasn't a panhandle slim, but that's alright, we can work on that.
and nine years later, he still wears his t-shirts with his wranglers. and he looks really good in a cowboy hat. we don't have that nice ranch house with land and some hundred head of cattle. but we dream about it. maybe one day when we say goodbye to the little city where both of our parents grew up just walking distance from where we live now. maybe he'll have that dream job of being a "cowboy"... hey, men have dreams of what they want to be when they grow up too!
and even though it's not the "dream come true" that i whole-heartedly wanted some ten years ago... it's exactly what i needed. and when it comes down to it, it doesn't matter that he doesn't wear pearl-snaps and rides a horse to work each morning. he calls me "his".