The broncs and the blood.

So the rodeo.

It was the absolute greatest thing.

Even better than last time because now I have boots.

On a random to note, I think the rodeo was the first time my boots touched actual dirt.

I know, I know. I am such a poser.

Anyway. Bareback riding. Kind of makes my body hurt just thinking about it. There was much snap, snap, snapping of the cowboys' necks and backs.

There was also much losing of hats.

Which apparently only I was concerned about.

I was also concerned for the cowboys' eyes during the steer wrestling. There was a lot of horns near the eyes business.

Apparently this was not a valid worry either. Whatever.

The saddle bronc riding was a lot prettier than bareback riding. Not so much snapping, and more fluid motions. So whiplash was less of a concern. Relatively.

But all of this was next to nothing compared to bull riding. At least the horses didn't seem all that interested in trampling their rider after he had been thrown.

The bulls did not allow the same courtesy. There was a lot of running and jumping onto the fence.

And bulls are huge.

Also, I noticed that the bull riders all wore these helmets, while everyone in the other events just wore their cowboy hats.

Special helmets spells danger.

And of course I played my favorite game of "how-many-consecutive-questions-can-I-ask-in-one-breath" throughout. Surprisingly, no one really seemed to mind all that much. So all of my questions were answered.

So I'm basically a rodeo expert now.

Seriously. Ask me anything.

What she's doing now

My boots came. Early. Excitement abounds. This prima donna is ready for another rodeo.

Cowgirl king of the rodeo.

In August I went to a rodeo. I went to a rodeo and fell in love. And I wanted boots something awful. Cowgirl boots.

For my birthday my parents got me boots. Well actually they told me that I could look for the perfect boot and when I found it they would buy it.

I have found it.

Black, simple, not too tall, not too short.

Perfect. Let the good times roll, let the good times roll.

It's boots and chaps, it's cowboy hats.

So I went to a rodeo last week. My first ever. It was pretty great. Actually, it was more than great, it made my life. Rodeos are the best fun. I now appreciate the significance of eight seconds. I just wanted to take the little cowboys home with me. They were completely adorable in their miniature boots, wranglers, plaid shirts, and cowboy hats. The regular cowboys were lovely, as well. Oh, and we dressed up. Like I wore my plaid shirt and everything. And I didn't wear a skirt.

Sometimes I am not the finest photographer. And sometimes I forget to take pictures. So while it appears that only Robbie and I went rodeo-ing really there was a whole group of rodeo enthusiasts.

The one rodeo down-side was the complete lack of pigs. I love pigs. So we went to the petting zoo to look at the precious pot-belly babies. I think I want one. I also want some boots. And I want to watch "Eight seconds".