Author: Heather Countryman

Montana girl living in Reno, Nevada.

Just Your Time

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I was asked recently what I wanted for Christmas this year, and I thought about that. Of course there are material items that came to mind. (I am only human.) A horse trailer was at the top of the list, but then a truck upgrade was, too. I’m not much for impractical items like pretty jewelry or fuzzy leggings. (Leggings tell entirely too much truth for my liking!) So, I decided it’s not about what material item I could want or need. My needs are met, but sometimes the needs of the heart fall slightly short. And what we could all use more of on this earth, is just a little more time.

My needs are really what I want for all of you…I want for you a place to call home filled with family, laughter, slight dysfunction, and a whole lot of memories to be made. May it be filled with less stuff and more love.

 I want your time. Time for a visit over coffee with friends, new and old. I want for you to pass on an old tradition or trade you’ve learned or perfected, and share that with the next generation. Stay connected to them without a device. Teach them what it means to pull up their bootstraps and dig in. Help them see what life there is to be lived out there. Let them embrace their roots and their wings. I want you to live, love, smile, and give. Give of your time because you can. Give of it because you want to.

I want for that bronc to test ya, but may you be able to match him jump for jump. Sometimes life is all about that hang and rattle. And if you hit that dirt, pick yourself up, dust off, and try again. May your whiskey be smooth and straight. And may it kick your butt just once to remind you of your limits. May your music be beautiful and speak to your heart.

May you find grace and forgiveness if you’re seeking it for yourself or others.  May you find joy and peace and strength. May you smile more and dance any chance you can. Hit the pause button once in a while, and make time. Make time to get back to the heart of life. Hug your family, kiss the babies, and fall in love all over again.  

I guess I really want nothing of you, but everything for you this holiday season. I just want your time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your care and love and insight this past year. May your holidays be all you wish for and more. Much love to you and yours, and as always, Happy Trails from my Big Sky to yours.❤

~Heather

Life, Live It

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“The trouble is, you think you have time.” ~Buddha

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These past few weeks, I’ve once again found myself looking at life through a lens of loss and struggle and a gamete of emotions I am unable to reign in, and not even really wanting to try.  I’ve needed to feel the rawness of it, the deep love of my family, and not take one, single breath for granted.  It isn’t all sad, but I am learning to hi-light the good moments and savor them a little longer; letting them take the edge off the sadness that revolves around death and loss.  It also, as it well should, makes me reflect strongly on my personal journey in this one life I get. So this rambling is written out of a place of realness and vulnerability and projected out into this big, wide world for your interpretation and judgement, but also as a source of strength and perhaps a self-check.  What are you doing with this one life you have?   If a loved one were sitting at a desk tonight penning your obituary, what would they say about you?  

 The harsh reality of a death is that you dying doesn’t affect you, but impacts those left behind.  The hardest part isn’t saying goodbye to someone; it’s learning to live without them. It leaves a hole in a heart, it leaves an empty chair at a dinner table, it leaves words unsaid, it leaves dreams unfulfilled, it leaves a stillness and quiet that in fact echos off the walls of one’s mind & heart.   Your birth and your death are your bookends, your timeline, to squeeze in as much as one can into the book of life, and if you’re lucky, you get to write numerous chapters full of life lived through good times and bad.  The truth is, we are all pushing the time we have in this world. So I ask you again? What would those left behind have to say about this one life you lived?

Were you strong because you knew your weaknesses?  Were you beautiful because you knew your flaws? Were you fearless because you knew it was your chance to fly?  Were you wise because you learned from your mistakes?  Did you love because you felt hate?  Did you laugh because you knew sadness? Did you live with a sense of urgency?  Did you share your heart unselfishly?

 Maybe the real tragedy isn’t in fact our death, but what we let die inside of us while we lived.  Because, the trouble is, we think we have time.  We think we can tell someone we love them later, we think we can take our kids fishing another time,  we can take that Sunday drive in that old pick-up truck another day, we can mend that broken fence later. Guess what… we don’t always get that time.

I don’t want to leave this world with doubts, or worse, leaving anyone else doubting. I want to use up every minute, and I want that to be my legacy.  I want my obituary to be so full of good things, ornery sentiments, integrity, honesty, smiles and tears and love, not for me, not for my memory, but as a comfort and a reminder to those left behind. A reminder that you have this one life, so live it.  

The gate only opens once to that ol’ rodeo of life. You might as well spur the hell out of that bronc and just let ‘er buck!

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Happy Trails,

Heather

Cowgirl, Who Are You When the World Ain’t Lookin’?

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I will admit, I’m a people watcher. I find myself intrigued and wondering what makes up the character of a person. As women, we often feel threatened by what we perceive other women to be. We measure ourselves strongly against other’s physical appearance, by successes, by well-behaved children, by the cars we drive, by relationship statues, by friendships, and facebook posts. We constantly strive to measure up. And sadly, I catch myself doing the same. In that acknowledgement, I also realize that life is so often not what it seems. Every single one of us has a unique story, has scars, lives with fear, smiles through tears, or has a chapter in our life story we don’t read aloud. This realization levels the playing field.  We’re in this life together to help each other, inspire one another, cry with one another, and embrace our differences. 

So, that is where the following rambling came from, knowing we all have secret hopes and unfulfilled dreams. I challenge you to not compare your uniqueness to another, to look deeper than the surface of yourself and others, erase expectations and preconceived notions, and see the heart and soul of someone. Read between the lines. You may be surprised what you find you can relate to…

Cowgirl, who are you when the world ain’t looking begging you to be all it expects you to be? What are your hopes and dreams? What do you see when you look in the mirror? Are you happy with what you’ve come to be? Do you beat yourself up because you think you’ve failed? Do you like who you see? Are you still searching, longing to find your voice down deep inside? Are you happy, really truly happy and feel life is as it should be?

Are you looking for love? Are you married and struggling to reconnect? Do you still long to find your childhood love and ride off into a sunset? Are you missing someone? Their touch? Their smile? Their laugh? Do you ask if love will ever be? Do you have good friends? Or do prefer to just be?

Who are you, cowgirl, when this old world ain’t looking, waiting for you to make your next move? When it’s not asking you to be what you don’t want to be? Do you close the chapter on your book of life that hurts too much to read? Do you hate yourself for your mistakes? Do you wish you could just change everything? Anything? Just that one thing? Do you have regrets? Do you share unselfishly your gifts and talents with others, or tuck it away in safety away from the world’s harsh reality? Do you know who you really want to be? Do you rise up? Do you try again? Do let it all go? Do you let it be what it will be?

Are you hardened or closed because you’ve built walls to guard your heart? Do you cry for no reason at all? Are you sick? Are you tired? Are worried about it all?

Hey cowgirl, who are you when the world ain’t looking?

Do you dance in your underwear and sing in the rain? Do you drink wine straight from the bottle? Do you like your whiskey straight? Do you paint your nails red, bright, shiny red because it makes you feel pretty? Do you let your hair down, or cut it off because you just need a change?

Do you hike a thousand miles through the wilderness just to know your real heart?  Do you love whomever you want? Do you raise babies, and ride broncs? Do you work at your passion? Or just a job to get by?

Do trail cattle on the  calico prairies and sagebrush sea? Do you let that wild horse run? Do you let your lungs breathe the mountain air deep? Do you travel the world to see through new eyes? Do you put down roots and watch them grow? What is your story? Why?

Cowgirl, be who you want to be anytime, anywhere… Even if this world is watching, do just as you care.  Quit waiting, quit wondering. Just get out there and live, cause this one life ain’t waiting on you, so why are you waiting on it?

Happy Trails, Cowgirl~

Heather ©

Ride

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Ride until the broken is mended. Ride until the tears are dry. Ride until the closed door reopens. Ride until you feel that high. Ride until weakness fades. Ride until you know you can fly.  Just climb in the saddle and ride.🌄

Words from the Heart, Pictures from the Soul

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Well, I’ve decided to try my hand at a little portrait photography, while continuing to shoot some landscape and western-style pictures, so a shameless plug for my little endevour may ensue. It is my ultimate hope to be able to combine my passion for writing and rambling and capturing images of Montana’s big, beautiful sky, and all things grand and small that live beneath it, into something artistic, real, and relatable.

I am in the beginning stages of learning photography, and I recently had the pleasure of shooting a senior session with the beautiful, and humble, Tawnya B.Let me say, this girl is beautiful and real from the inside out. Her true authenticity was what I hoped I could somehow capitilize on in a photo. She and her horse, Buckshot, were such troopers on any artistic whim or suggestion I had, and she had some really great ideas herself!

What an honor to be a part of her day!

 

My beautiful sister and her family allowed me to take my first actual family photo session. We got extremely lucky with the fall colors, the stormy weather, and the fall setting. I loved sharing this moment with them.I frequently share on my Instagram and Facebook pages my little random thoughts and quotes, and post photos that I feel seem close to the words or the feeling. I look forward to continuing to develop skills and new ideas, so with that being said, I am open for a little side business on the weekends. My fees are minimal, as I do not consider myself a professional, but will do my best to capture the essence amd realness of a person or family. I believe in casual and candid shots, and a little less posed.

Feel free to contact me at (406)680-2047, or shoot me a message on Facebook at Cowgirl Ramblings Blog & Photography, or on Instagram @cowgirlramblings. I am happy to travel to just about any reasonable destination requested.

Share the word, if you care to! Thank you for all your kind words of encouragement and follows and likes along the way. And thanks for having a little faith in this cowgirl. 

Happy Trails~

Heather

Get It Together, Woman

Heather Countryman1 Comment

20161011_174858-01It was recently pointed out to me by a male counterpart (and I am sure a trustworthy source like Hillary’s email) that after my last rant about woman logic, women are twelve percent more likely to be violent during road rage.  After I talked myself out of taking a swing on the unsuspecting dude, I sorta decided to go ahead and let my calm, cool woman logic prevail…hahahaha.

Even I was surprised by how quickly and fluidly the words came in my retort to his ridiculous accusation! And I felt the urge to justify my position because…

I am pretty sure if road rage did in fact occur, it happened for the following reasons:

It was morning, and we are responsible for EVERYTHING in the morning. Kids. Pets. Husbands. Lunches. Dinner. Not many men are around to get the kids out the door along with themselves in a fashionable and timely manner to work and school.  I’m past the diaper bag routine, but I am not too sure a teenage son is any quicker.  How can something that refuses to shower and change clothes on a daily basis take so damn long in the bathroom? However, he still wants to know if his favorite shirt is clean.  So while you’re brushing your teeth, drawing on an eyebrow, and writing a check for school lunches, you find his favorite shirt in the dirty clothes pile, give it a quick sniff, and throw it at him while pouring yourself a cup of coffee.  While pouring the cup of coffee, you think about dinner.  Dinner must consist of meat and potatoes and no food touching other food, and all you really want to do is pull the cork on the opened bottle of delicious vino and swig until you feel warm and fuzzy. Forget it. Dinner can wait, and  if all else fails, there’s a box of Captain Crunch.

When son finally emerges from what smells like a locker room and grunts and groans because he has to make his own breakfast, you’re trying to draw on the other eyebrow, change your outfit for the 3rd time because your shoes make you feel fat.  Somehow, you still end up with  the black bra and the white shirt, spill your coffee on your white shirt, and have to start all over again.

Your hair looks terrible, and you decided maybe a curling iron will fix the mess, but the dog needs out for her morning constitutional.  Your son ignores you when you ask him to let the dog out, so you do it yourself, and the horses whinny at you when you open the door as a reminder they still need fed.  So, you kick off your flats, tuck your dress slacks in your muck boots and pitch out the hay.

You return inside to finish fixing your hair, which is now littered with hay,  while realizing you are now ten minutes late.  You yell at your kid to get his ass in gear, and remind him to brush at least one layer of scum off his teeth or he will never get a girlfriend. (And the irony of this dawns on you. Why would the kid want a girlfriend? One crazy, bossy lady telling him what to do is enough!)

You make it to the car, peel out of the driveway, cold coffee in hand while mentally tackling your day at work, making a grocery list, reminding yourself that it’s been 2 years since you’ve had great sex, (better put that on your to do list), and somewhere in that thought, you remember you still need hairspray. Which reminds you..shit… you’re pretty sure the curling iron is still on.  So, you whip a u-turn, note the clock and that you are now 20 minutes late. You swerve around deer, yell at your kid, and mash the pedal to the floor, skid sideways into the drive and rush in the house only to find you actually did unplug the curling iron.

You peel back out of the driveway, cussing squirrels and rabbits scurrying for their lives, you honk at slow pedestrians, and stupid Sunday drivers while giving them the Cali one finger wave.  Your curse words flow freely. Your blood pressure is sky-high. You’re blowing snot and breathing fire. And coincidentally, Ozzy Osbourne’s “Bat Outta Hell” is blaring through the speakers, while your kid looks at you in complete awe from the passenger seat.

But, somehow you deliver your son unscathed and on time for school, with an enhanced list of vocabulary words because you broadened his horizons on the drive, and you walk through the doors at work with  a smile on your face, coffee-stained shirt, and crooked eyebrows ready to face the day!

It ain’t road rage…. It’s mad mother skills.

Happy Trails & Skilled Driving Ladies,

Heather

A Choice

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Decision making…we are always one decision away from a totally different life. Often, the hardest part of making a choice isn’t the decision itself, but thinking about the results of it. You have to go with your heart, and just move forward. Maybe things will go well, maybe they won’t. Every decision results in consequence. The only assuredness there is is that indecision robs you of precious time. And you wind up wishing you had the courage to jump. May your decisions be made out of hope, not fear. And when it’s real and right, you’ll know. You won’t be confused about it. Get busy living. ❤

That’s Woman Logic

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Women think we have a logical reason for everything we say and do, whether subtle or blatant.  We don’t understand ourselves any more than the next person, but we always promise an entertaining and enlightening adventure…

For instance, why do we wax or tweeze our eyebrows just to draw them back on? Woman logic. Somewhere in our warped little mind, society has trained us that perfect eyebrows must look better shaped and sculpted and painted on. Who really knows whey we think this looks better?

Why do we eat cucumbers and drink purified water all day and binge drink wine at night? Because we spend all day counting calories and counting steps and counting pounds, and at the end of the day, it was just one giant disappointment. A woman knows her chocolate goes better with wine anyway. Woman logic.

We push leftovers on our families. We shall not waste! We must save money!  We will eat the week old leftover meatloaf before we grocery shop. But…we will try 42 different kinds of face cream at the low, low price of $39.99 each because the first 41 were complete crap. Woman logic.

We sigh. And act dramatic. And make a big deal out of empty toilet paper rolls, overflowing garbage cans, and unemptied dishwashers.  This is our opportune moment to express and perfect our passive, aggressive behaviors by not saying what we want or need.  We sort of relish in making the moment miserable.  Woman logic.

We don’t care where you decide to eat.  But for the love of God, please do not go to the first twelve places you just named.  None of them sound good, and well, we just aren’t feeling it. However, a nice place with a variety on their menu sounds good so we can take an hour to decide what to eat, while ordering everything to the side.  Woman logic.

Date night is a very big deal.  We hint at our male half telling him how long it has been since we’ve been on one.  And when it finally happens, we {gasp!} shave legs, pick out a nice outfit, apply perfume and make-up and take hours getting ready for said date night, only to walk out and ask your guy “how do I look?”  And when he responds, “you look fine, are you ready?” We roll our eyes, storm back to the bedroom, change clothes at least five times, and cry because we are pretty sure he thought we looked fat. And don’t expect the night to end in magical fireworks, because we probably will still be crying and just want you to hold us. That’s woman logic.

We strategically place laundry hampers in places that we think men will notice them, and try to help our men feel more successful about helping out, only to find the the giant pile of dirty laundry stacked next to the hamper.  So we move it to an easier, less subtle location with high hopes of him actually using it the next time.  And get mad two hours later when he clearly still doesn’t it. There’s no need to move it again… he ignored you just fine the first time. Be mad.  That’s woman logic.

A woman is a complex, strange being. Good luck figuring us out, because we are still trying to do the same.  The study of woman logic is on-going, expensive, and intricate, and there are no conclusive results expected any time soon.

Hang in there guys… Haven’t you always enjoyed a perplexing and thrilling mystery?  In the meantime, there is still good, old, reliable beer, hunting, and football.

Happy Trails,

Heather

 

 

 

Look Up

Heather Countryman4 Comments

“Pretty little thing, sometimes you gotta look up, and let this world see all the beauty that you’re made of, because the way you hang your head, nobody can tell, you’re my Virginia Bluebell.” ~Miranda Lambert

I’ve had so many dreams in my life. So many things I thought I would be by now. I’ve outgrown some of them, and some of them have outgrown me. And there are those I still long for to come true. And they will. I have faith.

The first time I saw thirteen year old Rachel Myllymaki run the barrels at a local rodeo, her yellow hair flying out under her hat and her horse on fire, I wanted to be a barrel racer… Some days I still want that.

I wanted to be an equestrian cross-country jumper the first time I watched it on the Olympics.  I borrowed my mom’s dressage saddle and jumped my pony over every log, ditch and downed tree I could find. Until the big girl dreams came along, but some days I still long to take that jump, too.

I wanted to be a female horse trainer and rancher and equine vet. Yes, all of them.  I wanted that big, blue sky ranch with horses as far as they eye could see. I still want that, too.

Nowadays, I find myself longing to help others through horsemanship and the wilderness and helping run the family business. I also want to write novels and short stories and take pictures of the beauty that graces me every day. And I will.

You see, sometimes we outgrow dreams, and sometimes they outgrow us. But they also follow along silently until something, or someone, reminds us that they’re still beating in our heart and soul, and they’re worth giving another thought.

I lost focus along the way. Life changed so fast and my priorities morphed over the years to accommodate choices I made. And it wasn’t bad.  But my dreams didn’t go away. I just forgot to look up. Worrying about failure, worrying about timing, worrying about finances, always worrying and always wondering. And then I finally asked myself why? What in the hell am I waiting for?

We all ask ourselves these questions when we set out on a personal endeavor. The importance of feeding our souls and feeding our dreams with good people, positive thinking, beautiful scenery, love and light, fuels the fire of wanting to accomplish something significant. When we’re passionate about pursuing life, it spills over to others.  It is the want that keeps us trying.

When dreams are written on our hearts with permanent ink, tattooed there, they may fade, but it’s our job to not let ourselves down.  

Don’t be hard on yourself. Take a moment to look back on where you’ve come from, from where all you’ve been. Revel in it. Marvel at it. Evaluate the heartache you’ve felt, but nurture your new found strength. And grow in it, and trust that you’ve got this and God has you.

Despite all you’ve been through, you’re still here. Even though the sun didn’t always shine, you still grew. You’re a mosaic of all the shattered pieces of your life, with the bits of dreams still there and the flicker of hope still burning.

It’s never too late to get your shit together. Because that’s the beginning of something good, something strong, and something that’s right for you. In that pit of anger, of sadness, of frustration… that’s your new beginning. And those tucked away dreams are your way out.

So, pretty little thing, don’t forget to look up, and show the world all the beauty that you’re made of.

Dream big. Dream forever. Live authentic and live true to yourself.

~Happy Trails

Heather