I have been in such a blog-fog lately.
I'm not sure if it's writer's block, you know, just simply unable to post anything
to promote deep and thought-provoking topics, like usual.
Or if I'm just so busy darning socks, teaching the children a third language,
or maybe I'm just GETTING READY FOR VACATION.
Have I mentioned that K-Man and I are going on vacation ALONE?
I may have mentioned that already.
I do have a little something to tell you, just between us (for now).
Several months ago I went cowboy boot shopping, just for fun. You know how it goes, just to look.
And look, I did. And there they were, the boots of my wild-west dreams.
But I resisted the urge to buy.
I had to.
Since then I've been in to visit my boots several times.
You know, just to make sure they weren't missing me as terribly as I was missing them.
Well, fast forward to our vacay preparations.
As K-Man was planning this trip (he's planning the entire trip!),
(I love a man to takes charge!)
(I love a man who doesn't make me make a single decision!)
(I love a man whom I assume won't complain when I complain about his choices!)
he found a rodeo for us to go to in the mountains.
Now really, how fun, right?
And I think you know where this is headed.
My boots, the ones that the store is letting live with them,
sent me a proverbial text message in my brain that shouted in all caps,
YOU MUST TAKE BOOTS TO THE RODEO! YOU MUST!
THE TIME HAS COME TO BRING US HOME.
THE TIME HAS COME.
And I heard the message loud and clear.