Playing Pretend

I watched the Pioneer Woman Saturday morning on the Food Network and decided I think I'd like to be her.  I do that from time to time.  I find someone elses life that looks like it might be fun and I pretend for a little while that I'm that person.  Yesterday I made it all the way through her show.  She'd made the hash brown potato casserole, the best green beans in the world, and the skillet fried pork chops for all of the cow hands, her kids, and other family members there to help with the calves.  She may have made the peach cobbler earlier in the show but I was a few minutes late tuning in and might have (sadly) missed that part. 

I was lovin' all of it until I realized I might have to do all that everyday-- all that chopping and prep work myself, cooking, and then clean up all that stuff.  Dang.  She must have fed a small army and when you live out in the back of beyond, it's not like you all jump in the truck and drive forty miles for a quick burger.  Her  freezer must be the size of my house.  How else could you feed a herd like that every day when they're working cows?  And did I mention she home schools her kids (or used to) and they all get up every morning to feed all the animals at 5 AM?   And while they do that, she gets breakfast started-- and other times she goes along to help.  Ohhhh, wait just a dang a minute.

I do think I'd enjoy feeding the orphaned calves at least once, except for all that calf slobber and head butting they do.  Nah.  I'd like it....heck, I'd LOVE it.  I know I'd like getting to shoot them with shots and all, since that's right up my alley but none of that branding or cutting of the you know whats.  NOOOO.  From what I read in PW's book, I already know I don't want to be on the temperature taking end of things when the Vet comes to check the cows to see if they're pregnant--especially if my brother-in-law waits until I've shoved the temp probe to China, and then does his part to make sure the cow poops all over me each time.  Ha, Ha, Funny guy.  Don't forget who fixes your lunch. 

The gardening would be fun and maybe even canning--I've never done that either.  Making jam and putting up a few vegetables would be heaven to have in the fall and winter when you might as well slice up a baseball as what the grocery store tries to pass off as tomatoes at that time of year. 

Sunsets would be my favorite time to be outside on the porch in a comfy rocking chair with a couple of hound dogs at my feet, and a barn cat or two over visiting.  Bare feet up on the porch rail and looking out over the land might just make it all worth it.