I officially can't wait for summer.
Not that I don't love winter. Not that I'm one of those crabby people that hates snow. Not that I don't think it's awesome to be one of the tough notherners in the world. But working outside in -10 temperatures with no mitts and only a fall worthy jacket is enough to make me start counting the days.
That and I'm finally having to admit I've got bad circulation. I do not like the thought that I, Kris, may have bad circulation. I don't like to think of myself as a bad circulation person. But when my toes freeze along with the worst of them well I attempt to skate happily along, and my fingers feel worthy candidates for falling off I must admit, I think I might have bad circulation.
Same with weak lungs. I, Kris, still maintain that I don't have the weak lungs that run in my Dad's side of the family. I've proudly taken on just about everything else that runs in the paternal side, but I'm afraid that I'm fighting the weak lung syndrome.
O.k., O.k. Here's a change of topic for you. For I feel I have to comment on whoever it was that just walked in and out of the library.
He was young, and maybe a real cowboy, or maybe a want to be real cowboy. I'm afraid I'm not experienced enough that I can always tell them apart yet. He was closer the a stereotypical cowboy then anyone I've seen around these parts before.
And, before I continue, I don't really believe that real cowboys exist anymore. The rancher may exist. I've seen some pretty genuine looking ones in Mexico. But sources tell me that Texas is now that fattest state in the fattest nation, and I strongly suspect that means they aren't riding the range. And if Texas has gone down, I don't have much hope for anywhere else. Alberta included. They (Albertans) pushed off any hope of ranchers dominating with their first oil line. And now we flock to their "western" cities to get jobs generate by the industry. And, I find it humorous, that Alberta likes to consider themselves the only true western province. We in B.C. are willing to let them have it. We're more the cutting edge province. Our cities (or ought I to say city) are/is more dynamic. We're like the youthful state. The one that took the longest to get to. Therefore we are newer, therefore we are cooler. Almost the nonsurfer California of Canada. Historical goldrush intact.
Back to my "cowboy". I always look up when people walk by, or when somebody says something. Small-town-kid thing, I strongly suspect. So when I looked the first thing I noticed was he was walking bow-legged. I must admit, it looked quite genuine. Not that I've a lot of experience, but my co-worker is a horse woman, and she walks like this guy did. Maybe not so obvious, but pretty much the same.
He took time to merely set his pile of books on the counter. To the librarians thanks, and this is the best part, he merely touched his hat. The shy quiet type. How sweet.
I must admit, I've always wanted reason to touch my hat to someone. I have been thwarted by two circumstances. One, I am a girl my self. Therefore, the typical "Ma'am" senerio is invalid. Second of all, I rarely wear classic touchable brimmed hats, apart from when I'm doing summer construction. And I'm not about to touch my hat to my dad. So my personal experience in this is limited to doing it in the mirror.
When he turned to walk out his green felt and leather jacket had Arizona emblazoned across the back, complete with the clubhouse looking flag and all. He had a silver star pinned to the back of his cowboy hat (didn't look beat-up enough to be quite true). I didn't notice if he was wearing spurs on his boots. But it wouldn't have surprised me.
Since I was in the midst of being mildly intrigued/amused by his whole being I was watching him walk out when he glanced back. He probably thought I was examinining the holes in the back pockets of his wranglers. Which I was, but not because I was even slightly interested in what was underneath. But because I was impressed that his jeans looked saddle worn. So weather he was real, or not, I'll never know.
Oh yeah, he also had something of sideburns. I'm not sure if this is typical cowboy. But since he had them they probably are.
So, there's another episode of my people watching. I, being a skeptic, bet he rides on the weekends and couldn't rope a calf and better then my boss. But, one great thing about people watching, you get to make-up your own stories. Only, with me, I get very curious and want to know the truth. I've got a thing for people in general. People and stories and history. All quite related.