By Georgia Osten
Yep, that’s me. Especially on weekends, don’t even try to get me outta the house. Well, he did. After a long weekend away from home last weekend, I refused to leave. Especially when I leave home every day of the week for work. Admittedly, last weekend was spent with The Littles in Friendswood, now, that’s acceptable. Anytime, I can be with the Grands, is a special time.

So, this weekend, was Bulls on Bolivar up at Festival Park. We had VIP tickets, which, when I heard that, I got all excited. Until we got to Festival Park. I followed my husband to our VIP “seats.” Are you kidding me!?! They’re right up front about my leg’s distance from the iron fence surrounding the actual corral. Are you kidding me!?!

So, anyway, we watch the Mutton Whatever Busting. I see these shaggy pitiful looking creatures who must be very embarrassed sheep, looking so disheveled. Geez, why doesn’t someone groom them? I guess all that mess is great for the little tykes trying to hold on to them. Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to ask Macon Newberry, a friend of mine, if they stink? After all, these little tykes are actually lying on top of the gnarly creatures. These creatures, after all, look so gentle, they wouldn’t hurt a fly. And, you know what’s interesting, if there’s only one sheep out there, after it’s been ridden, before another one gets ridden, that one sheep is lost. It is so nervous, looking around for another sheep. Thank goodness another sheep gets ridden, and voila, Sheep #1 has a buddy to pal around with until the rest of the herd joins them.

Okay, but the most exciting is watching the clowns. You may think the most exciting would be watching the cowboys riding the bulls, but, to me, the most exciting was watching the clowns when the cowboy falls off the bull and the clowns are trying to distract the bull. After all, the dang bull is REALLY mad in the first place, and the bull chases the cowboy and the clowns are trying to protect the cowboy. The CLOWNS are the real show. They are fearless!

Now, as we’re watching the bulls, and as I told you, I’m a leg’s length away from the fencing, another cowboy perches (I know that’s not the right word?) his horse, he has his lasso (aren’t you amazed I know what a lasso is?) ready to catch the bull when the cowboy falls off. His intention is to lasso the bull and guide it back into the exit chute. Good word – chute!

Anyway, this cowboy is perched just the other side of where my “leg’s length” is away from the iron fencing. Well, if anybody knows me, you’ll know that I’m scared to death of horses. Ever since my Father took me to the Grand Canyon and we rode horses on a tour, horses know, and so do I, that they don’t like me. Maybe I was 6 years old, they didn’t like me back then, and THEY STILL DON’T!

This horse, parked a leg’s length from me, kept eyeing me out of his left eye, I could see the white’s of his eyes. He kept flinching. He was so nervous, he had to relieve himself right in front of me in the worst way. I think he felt a bit better after relieving himself, he quit glaring at me.

Oh, goodness, I’ve rambled. Point is, I’m happy I went, I feel like I have a greater respect for cowboys, but more, for their fine animals who are dragged from event to event to entertain us mere mortals.

Thanks Honey for pulling me outta my comfort zone!

[April-12-2022]