Muck Boot Give Away!

A post written in the spring, a few years ago, generated a bit of interest on my blog. It wasn't a mouth watering recipe, some crafty photos, or yapping about everyday life. It was a post about Muck boots.  Yes, the warm, dry feet kind of boots. A thing worthy of a post in itself, let's take a gander at that ol' post, shall we? This time we are throwing a give away in at the bottom, read on, dear ladies. 

Ladies, let's talk boots.

I bet you're enthused, sitting there with your cup of coffee, thinking I'm going to chat fashion with you. You're thinking about those Frye boots or a nice pair of Lucheese that you've been wanting.

I'm here to tell you about a whole new realm in fashion.

Hollywood here thinks she would like to chat about boots. Do you see the reflection of white in her sun goggles? The fact that the goggles were busted out is proof that that white won't last too much longer.

Kids from the prairies are part mud.  You probably didn't grow up here if you haven't had your gum boot fall off , trudging through that ooze, and  kept on going in your sock feet because your feet  were so cold in springtime weather.

We still have feet of snow on the ground, but it won't be long 'till we are swimming in sludge. A big ol' nasty, mire of nothing but pure dirty, that makes a grown man grin as he digs trenches in the lane. That huge ball of fire in the sky is packing heat on, some of these afternoons, and my little girl has discovered the joy of puddles. Trucks are filthy, the farmers in the coffee shop are grinning, and gophers are running around on top of the snow. We are busting out the Muck boots.

I mentioned Muck boots in a previous post and I received an email from a lady thinking it was funny that us Albertan's call our gum boots Muck boots. Girls, we don't just call em Muck boots-they are an actual brand of insulated rubber boots here that are meant to keep your feet warm and dry all year long. They are a thing of beauty.  Pair them with a dirty ol' Carhartt coat and you're Redneck stylin'. I love these bad boys so much that I'm writing a whole post on these blessed chore boots.

Back in the day there weren't such luxuries as these treasures. Ranchers would wade out in the sludge to check calves and come in with stained socks much to their wive's dismay. I'm sure no one really minded that much; you're just thrilled Spring arrived here.

One of my favorite famed 'muddy' stories in the family took place right where my folks live now. It was my Great Grandpa's place many moons ago, the legendary hero we all called Pappa. Years ago, when Charolais bulls were relatively new to Canada, these big beasts got out and were heading to get in with the heifers. My dad was out with Pappa in the barnyard soup when Pappa started hollering to beat the band at my Uncle, at the top of the pasture, to cut the bulls off. With all the bellowing Pappa's teeth flew out of his mouth and landed right in the slop and manure. Losing his teeth paused the hollering, but Pappa just gave those teeth a quick wipe, popped them back in his mouth and commenced whooping. Only in Alberta- we don't let the mud and manure get in the way!

*******************************************************

Now, lucky for you goof troops, this post will lead to one of my readers, in the USA or Canada,  receiving a pair of Muck chore boots, delivered to your door, to fit your feet. I was so pumped about this give away. There may or may not be a neighbour lady who has shown up at my door step with a pair of rubber boots, that were both of the right foot, one being size seven and one being size nine. I'm secretly pulling for her, because who could use a pair of chore boots more than this lady. 

This is where it seems some of  you seem to get a little muddled. Somehow in the part where you read the words, and then in your panic on trying to figure out how to enter the fool contest, I lose y'all.  If you have trouble, please e-mail me at littleprairiebaby@gmail.com, and I will only laugh at you a little. No, I'm just kidding, I won't laugh, but I will drag your sorry self through the process step by step and show you how to make yourself eligible. 

There is only ONE MANDATORY way to enter yourself, visit the Muck boot website, peruse around, come back here, leave a comment and tell me where these boots would get worn. 

For THREE ADDITIONAL entries (this being four separate entries in total) please leave an ADDITIONAL COMMENT FOR EACH ENTRY. (I don't make blog contest rules, I just follow them.)

-"like" Muck boots on FB-tell them Cheyenne with Little Prairie Baby sent you leave a separate comment letting me know.
-Pin this to win this! Slap a photo on Pinterest and leave a separate comment to tell me.
-Blog, tweet, or FB about this contest--and guess what? Tell me about it, in a separate comment!

Good luck! Contest closes Friday, September 21 at 9:00AM, bloggy time. (Thanks Linda, for reminding me what month it is!)

Best of luck, Auntie Sue!

Mother Nature Shouts Yeehaw!

I had the wise idea to allow the wild lions to play on drums and I use the term drums loosely. It's a chorus of pure, ear aching noise crashing off the ceiling in the living room. I thought pots and wooden spoons were standard baby toys? The two year old is turning it into a game of, "look for the shooting muffs so our ears don't explode!"

I'm breaking my rule of being on the computer while the kidlets are awake, but I realize as the noise is increasing, I'm pulling the chubby legged babes out of the plant and my sort of clean house is losing the 'sort of' quickly-this might be a bad idea.

There's a new chunk of technology in this house and it seriously inhibited my blogging abilities. I have no clue how to run this here computer, but finally decided I needed to suck it up and figure it out. I had lofty ambitions to linking up with Wrangler & Ribbons and answering some of her questions about what's happening around these parts, but my self diagnosed, adult onset CRAZINESS has been taking over.

This lady's first point to expand on: "I know it's spring because..."

With a hefty dose of belly laugh I would like to point out to you that I made a comment in a previous post that it's springtime in Alberta, and who really knows what that means? Mother Nature belongs in the nuthouse and all of us Albertans should follow along for residing in this land. Now, don't get me wrong, my roots dig deep & I'm as proud as can be to be from this mixed up place. Seriously, we can burn in the sun one day, blow away in the wind the next, and have snow pour down as the moon fades away. We are in the wild west and I do feel pretty wild about it. Wild in a nutty way.

I try not to make promises of playing outside or going to see the calves, because the next minute we will be holed up and hunkered down because of the blessed weather.

I do know the gophers are out, crocuses are blooming to bring a bit of hope, and the meadowlark is singing in all her glory. Calves are on the ground,  my two year old is digging in the dirt outside and grown men are seeding. The Mucks have been whipped out, walls are being washed, and laundry can now blow off the line in the wind. Signs of new life are exploding all over the place, just sometimes we have to dig them out of the snow. 

We all hold our heads a little higher, laugh a little harder, and are pleased to see our neighbors didn't freeze through winter. Life just feels good.

Here's to Spring, whatever that may mean, and here's to figuring out how to run the blasted computer.

Muck Boots

Ladies, let's talk boots.

I bet you're enthused, sitting there with your cup of coffee, thinking I'm going to chat fashion with you. You're thinking about those Frye boots or a nice pair of Lucheese that you've been wanting.

I'm here to tell you about a whole new realm in fashion.

Hollywood here thinks she would like to chat about boots. Do you see the reflection of white in her sun goggles? The fact that the goggles were busted out is proof that that white won't last too much longer.

Kids from the prairies are part mud.  You probably didn't grow up here if you haven't had your gum boot fall off , trudging through that ooze, and  kept on going in your sock feet because your feet  were so cold in springtime weather.

We still have feet of snow on the ground, but it won't be long 'till we are swimming in sludge. A big ol' nasty, mire of nothing but pure dirty, that makes a grown man grin as he digs trenches in the lane. That huge ball of fire in the sky is packing heat on some of these afternoons and my little girl has discovered the joy of puddles. Trucks are filthy, the farmers in the coffee shop are grinning, and gophers are running around on top of the snow. We are busting out the Muck boots.

I mentioned Muck boots in a previous post and I received an email from a lady thinking it was funny that us Albertan's call our gum boots Muck boots. Girls, we don't just call em Muck boots-they are an actual brand of insulated rubber boots here that are meant to keep your feet warm and dry all year long. They are a thing of beauty.  Pair them with a dirty ol' Carhartt coat and you're Redneck stylin'. I love these bad boys so much that I'm writing a whole post on these blessed chore boots.

Back in the day there weren't such luxuries as these treasures. Ranchers would wade out in the sludge to check calves and come in with stained socks much to their wive's dismay. I'm sure no one really minded that much; you're just thrilled Spring arrived here.

One of my favorite famed 'muddy' stories in the family took place right where my folks live now. It was my Great Grandpa's place many moons ago, the legendary hero we all called Pappa. Years ago, when Charolais bulls were relatively new to Canada, these big beasts got out and were heading to get in with the heifers. My dad was out with Pappa in the barnyard soup when Pappa started hollering to beat the band at my Uncle, at the top of the pasture, to cut the bulls off. With all the bellowing Pappa's teeth flew out of his mouth and landed right in the slop and manure. Losing his teeth paused the hollering, but Pappa just gave those teeth a quick wipe, popped them back in his mouth and commenced whooping. Only in Alberta- we don't let the mud and manure get in the way!

It's Really Coming? When?

March came in with a mighty roar and left like a hormonal lioness, leaving her six inch paw prints in the snowdrifts. She twitched her tail and had a little sauce in her step.

I stuck my tongue out at her as she departed.

Like I mentioned, we hunkered down and battled our way through the winter. It's all warm and cozy until Christmas is over and January greets our unsheltered prairies with a cold hand shake and a snarl on her wind whipped face. March came along and we all breathed a little, hoping to see some sunshine.

It was a trick ya'll.

March madness, St. Patty's Day, the first day of Spring-nothing could really lift our spirits. We were left desolate and bleak, much like our landscape. I think it snowed everyday since the first day of Spring, without a break for a splash of sunshine.

My Canadian spirit of happily embracing the cold and getting excited over curling and hockey was rapidly diminishing. We bring entertainment indoors in Winter, but I was ready to boot this party outside.

Oh yes, it's a gala inside the house in the winter. Us Albertans, we install swings inside the house!

Who needs Disneyland? Take me to Oma Helga's!

We sit by the window and watch the tractors. You question why we don't have TV? You thought it was because we lived in the boondocks?

Tractor? Cows? Tractor? Moo?

We bring the run bike inside, folks. It's Kid's Day in Russia!

My poor kid isn't allowed to have a tricyle. She has a run bike, no pedals, ladies. Helps with balance (again, insert eye roll here.) Good thing she just learned to walk.

We sew and make so much stuff that the mounties are looking in the basement to see if we have a small sweat shop.

If you need some western baby stuff, send me a message!

We eat, we read, we get plumper-and we wait.

I LOVED this last book. Go read it. I might have to do a post dedicated to this book.

Some of us try to run away, even the hound, but when you're born on the prairies, you just really can't get away. They become a part of you.

Photos one, two and this last one were taken by good ol Jenny Keet. Picture taking extraordinaire and a girl with really nice feet. 

The minute you think you're going to crack and think you see snow falling INSIDE the house (which it will drift inside the door in the entrance) you suspect you heard the weatherman muttered something about plus temperatures. Hoping the man hasn't lost his marbles through Winter and hasn't been drinking, you get your hopes up.

That's what Spring is all about anyway, isn't it? Being reminded of hope and remaining hopeful.

I hope Mother Nature remembers to be hopeful and whistles a little zip a dee doo da here in Alberta. I'm sure she'll do just fine as long as she's not hormonal like that young lioness...unless of course she's menopausal and is trying to battler her hot flashes with these cool temperatures. Sheesh!

Spring has Sprung

Friends, you must forgive my absence. I have been digging my way out of the snow to try and find a computer. 

Ya'll, it's the first day of Spring and this photo was taken today. Alberta is boasting piles of snow coming down. The temperature isn't -40 degrees Celsius, so it does feel balmy outside and we almost put on our flip flops.

I wanted to capture some photos for you, dear readers, but the fact of the matter is, the horizon runs together with our snow covered prairies making the photo of nothing but blind your eyeballs white.

Oh, I promise the crocuses will pop through, the gophers will start a runnin, and the calves are already making an appearance. 

Once I've rattled this brain around to try and get it working after my long winter's nap, I'll be back to tell you folks about what we did to survive this winter. Yes, survive-we held onto deep freeze temperatures week after week and blizzard upon blizzard reigned down. 

We saw eight foot snow drifts, ladies and gentlemen, and my daughter doesn't ask to go 'outside' she asks to go out to the 'cold.'

January I hid in the house for seventeen days straight, visited the neighbours, and hunkered down again. I'm not kidding when I say I need to get this brain a rollin' again! 

Don't fear, the Muck boots are out, the stroller is ready to walk this lane and I'll let you in on a few secrets this prairie momma has up her sleeve. 

I've missed you all, oh so much, and am looking forward to our springtime reunion. Can someone bring a space heater?