The hours and days just seem to get away from me and evaporate into yesterdays.
Mr. Joe and I have been reviewing all of the names received on email, FaceBook, and on my blog. There were over 100 names to choose from! Thank you all for responding.
Congratulations to Quilting Babcia for the name Starlit Barn Dance
. Let me tell you why........
First, no one has a quilt by this name, and that is important to me.
Second, it is not associated with a particular color.
Third, if is wasn't for a Barn Dance
, I would not have met Mr. Joe 49 years ago.
Here's my long winded story.
Let's time travel back to July 1971, when I was a sophomore at Chico State College in Chico, CA. At that time I had a small studio apartment that cost me $50/month during the summer and $100/month during the school year. That was a lot of money for someone working part-time and going to school.
I was dating an agriculture major/cowboy from Redding, and he started taking me to barn dances up and down the Sacramento Valley. He suggested that I purchase some cowboy boots and Levis so that I'd "fit in" a little more at the barn dances.
I bought a pair of tall, English riding boots, because I didn't want to have pointy toes. I also bought the tightest pair of jeans that I could squeeze my young, curvy body into. The jeans were so tight I had to lay down on the bed to zip them up.
I was all dressed up in my best Western regalia when my date came to pick me up. I thought we were going to a barn dance, but instead we went to watch a softball game in Bidwell Park. Did I forget to mention that it gets really, REALLY, hot in Chico in the summertime. It was about 110 degrees at the softball game. I was dying and almost had a heat stroke.
My date brought me back to my apartment and dropped me off. All I wanted to do was get my tight jeans and boots off and lay down in front of my swamp cooler. Well, in the heat, my ankles got swollen. I couldn't get my boots off which meant I couldn't get my pants off. I couldn't call my date and ask him to undress me! I had only lived in my apartment for a month, and I didn't know any of the neighbors.
There were about 20 apartments in my complex, and there was one light on in the entire place. That light belonged to a rough and tumble "bad boy" type, with a hot Mustang and a motorcycle. I could tell that he was a Veteran because of his camo-wearing friends. Viet Nam Veterans weren't treated with the respect they deserved, and I have to tell you I was a little afraid.
I was desperate. I summoned up my courage, and my boots, Levis and I walked down and knocked on the door of a stranger. I was secretly afraid he was "entertaining" someone if you catch my drift. The bad boy opened the door, and my heart was beating out of my chest. I told him my name, and asked him if he could take my boots off. He looked at me, laughed, and said he didn't like to undress women in the hallway, come on in. I went in.
Now I could be mean and say part 2 tomorrow, but I'll finish the story.
We talked for hours, and hours. He asked me out to a barbeque with his friends the next night. Bad Boy and I were engaged six months later. Now I know inquiring minds want to know if he took my boots off. Yes he did, and only the boots!
So if it hadn't have been for the boots, the Levis, and the Barn Dance I didn't go to that night, I wouldn't have spent the last 49 years with the Bad Boy.....A.K.A....Mr. Joe.
This is our engagement picture in January 1972. How do you like that hair!!! It took about two cans of Aqua Net hairspray a week to keep that "do" in place. I take personal responsibility for global warming.
Here's a more current picture of us, and we are still smiling.
Our 49 years together have been good to us. I have no idea where the cowboy is....but I still have my boots and my Bad Boy!