#greaterthangreat
As I gaze out the picture window of this barn loft on this ranch in central coast wine country, the cow is licking the horse's butt, and I am happy. The cow's name is Vanilla Ice and I re-named the horse Cass-a-frass (formerly Cassie) because she's a sassy betch. The afore-mentioned act of obtrusion isn't what's causing the swell in my heart (obvz).
It's more the new boyfriend in my life that's got me whistlin'…I've got this giddy goofiness goin' on that can only be attributed to, dare I say it, falling in love. Eek.
I've spent the past few days gallivanting, frolicking around inside his life here on the ranch. He lives in a barn. On his uncle's ranch. His character of an uncle owns a water park down the road. On this ranch there are three chickens, two horses, one cow, four cats, and a dog, all of which I've fed, pet, and played with over the course of these past few days. The horses are brats who don't like being pet, but are beautiful and bottomless as they eat their days away. The cow is a dolt who I re-christened Vanilla Ice Man (he not very friendly either). The cats have names like Taint and Sphinxter and prowl the paddock looking for gophers (fun to watch on a lazy Sunday morning). The chickens lay more eggs when you let them out to wander. Happiness breeds. Lola the pup is a tiny firecracker exploding all over the place. She's suffering from a spat of squirrel poisoning but you wouldn't be able to tell from her lively greetings and lust for barking at any and all things moving.
The lazy puttering of ranch life suits me well. Although we've been less than lazy in these last days.
I arrived Friday night to a luscious dinner full of BBQ'd bits. There was chicken (seared yet plump with tenderness-an act of magic all its own), stuffed peppers and mushrooms topped with mozzarella, and grilled pineapple for dessert.
Saturday was full of laziness with some shotgun shooting and other good food smuggled in. Later in the evening we had a canyon campfire where we cooked chili and hotdogs on the fire, and nestled some sweet potatoes in the coals. We made up constellations and listened to Otis Redding radio while I shared some of my family woes. Good times.
Sunday opened with fried egg sandwiches and spun into wine tasting at a high end winery in Paso Robles where I learned about wine-making and the true ingenuity of my wood-working artist of a boyfriend. His ideas are endless and boundless (PaintByLumbers). After wine tasting we shopped for pizza makings, then rode some dirt bikes around the ranch (dis property is rull big). Our pizzas were bistro status. Pesto, mozzarella, red peppers, artichoke hearts, olives, and goat cheese on hand-made whole wheat crust. We eat well together.
Monday was the fullest of days, starting with breakfast at Joe's Cafe with the giant gorilla on the sign. With full bellies we head to the train tunnels where we spooked ourselves in the darkness of the S curve, searching for the hidden cubbies his uncle had spoken of, in case a train should come while we ambled down the tracks. Heading back to the car with all the railroad ties we could hold (for an undecided project of his) we start off on our next adventure, that of finding the hike his uncle had told us about. We happen upon it a few miles later, almost missing the turn with a screech of burnt rubber. The five mile round trip hike was perfect with a beautiful summit for the two of us, some mountaintop meditation for him, and some downhill trail running for me. After the hike we head off to Morro Bay, a sleepy beach town known for the volcanic rock you're not allowed to climb on. We eat leftover pizza on a rock near the water whilst being harassed by seagulls. After lunch he takes me out where the footing is uncertain, me in my sandals, him in his sneakers. Taking off ahead, he's poking sea anemones and leading me into treachery, of which I won't contest. His adventurous spirit is akin to my own, making the potential for twisted ankles in these wretched sandals worth all the while. Picking up sand dollars and making me kick water on him (so he can say he went in the water) we amble down the beach laughing at each other, watching sea otters float on their backs in the current. From Morro Bay we head up the coast to the quaint little town of Cambria where we get frozen treats and window shop in the sleepy sunshine. Tired from a long day we head back to the ranch for a late dinner and early bedtime.
Today, Tuesday, is a work day. He has spent the day in the woodshop, finishing a cutting board for his parents and making some ears for a sick art installation he's putting together. And I have spent the day writing for articles due in a week.
When I sit and think about this relationship I've gotten myself into, I am overwhelmed with how naturally we fit together. It's been weeks and we sit together like an old couple on the bench he built in the yard, telling stories about our grandparents while watching the sunset. He makes me laugh until my belly hurts. He looks at me as if I am the prettiest girl in the world. And did I mention he's 6'8"?
Anyway, I am happy. It's spring break and I'm enjoying myself here on the ranch with my boo.
I don't mean to brag, but he's really quite great, greater than great, in fact, and you should check out his work on instagram (@PaintByLumbers).
It's more the new boyfriend in my life that's got me whistlin'…I've got this giddy goofiness goin' on that can only be attributed to, dare I say it, falling in love. Eek.
I've spent the past few days gallivanting, frolicking around inside his life here on the ranch. He lives in a barn. On his uncle's ranch. His character of an uncle owns a water park down the road. On this ranch there are three chickens, two horses, one cow, four cats, and a dog, all of which I've fed, pet, and played with over the course of these past few days. The horses are brats who don't like being pet, but are beautiful and bottomless as they eat their days away. The cow is a dolt who I re-christened Vanilla Ice Man (he not very friendly either). The cats have names like Taint and Sphinxter and prowl the paddock looking for gophers (fun to watch on a lazy Sunday morning). The chickens lay more eggs when you let them out to wander. Happiness breeds. Lola the pup is a tiny firecracker exploding all over the place. She's suffering from a spat of squirrel poisoning but you wouldn't be able to tell from her lively greetings and lust for barking at any and all things moving.
The lazy puttering of ranch life suits me well. Although we've been less than lazy in these last days.
I arrived Friday night to a luscious dinner full of BBQ'd bits. There was chicken (seared yet plump with tenderness-an act of magic all its own), stuffed peppers and mushrooms topped with mozzarella, and grilled pineapple for dessert.
Saturday was full of laziness with some shotgun shooting and other good food smuggled in. Later in the evening we had a canyon campfire where we cooked chili and hotdogs on the fire, and nestled some sweet potatoes in the coals. We made up constellations and listened to Otis Redding radio while I shared some of my family woes. Good times.
Sunday opened with fried egg sandwiches and spun into wine tasting at a high end winery in Paso Robles where I learned about wine-making and the true ingenuity of my wood-working artist of a boyfriend. His ideas are endless and boundless (PaintByLumbers). After wine tasting we shopped for pizza makings, then rode some dirt bikes around the ranch (dis property is rull big). Our pizzas were bistro status. Pesto, mozzarella, red peppers, artichoke hearts, olives, and goat cheese on hand-made whole wheat crust. We eat well together.
Monday was the fullest of days, starting with breakfast at Joe's Cafe with the giant gorilla on the sign. With full bellies we head to the train tunnels where we spooked ourselves in the darkness of the S curve, searching for the hidden cubbies his uncle had spoken of, in case a train should come while we ambled down the tracks. Heading back to the car with all the railroad ties we could hold (for an undecided project of his) we start off on our next adventure, that of finding the hike his uncle had told us about. We happen upon it a few miles later, almost missing the turn with a screech of burnt rubber. The five mile round trip hike was perfect with a beautiful summit for the two of us, some mountaintop meditation for him, and some downhill trail running for me. After the hike we head off to Morro Bay, a sleepy beach town known for the volcanic rock you're not allowed to climb on. We eat leftover pizza on a rock near the water whilst being harassed by seagulls. After lunch he takes me out where the footing is uncertain, me in my sandals, him in his sneakers. Taking off ahead, he's poking sea anemones and leading me into treachery, of which I won't contest. His adventurous spirit is akin to my own, making the potential for twisted ankles in these wretched sandals worth all the while. Picking up sand dollars and making me kick water on him (so he can say he went in the water) we amble down the beach laughing at each other, watching sea otters float on their backs in the current. From Morro Bay we head up the coast to the quaint little town of Cambria where we get frozen treats and window shop in the sleepy sunshine. Tired from a long day we head back to the ranch for a late dinner and early bedtime.
Today, Tuesday, is a work day. He has spent the day in the woodshop, finishing a cutting board for his parents and making some ears for a sick art installation he's putting together. And I have spent the day writing for articles due in a week.
When I sit and think about this relationship I've gotten myself into, I am overwhelmed with how naturally we fit together. It's been weeks and we sit together like an old couple on the bench he built in the yard, telling stories about our grandparents while watching the sunset. He makes me laugh until my belly hurts. He looks at me as if I am the prettiest girl in the world. And did I mention he's 6'8"?
Anyway, I am happy. It's spring break and I'm enjoying myself here on the ranch with my boo.
I don't mean to brag, but he's really quite great, greater than great, in fact, and you should check out his work on instagram (@PaintByLumbers).
posted by Sabrina @ 4:47 PM
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