Scott's Job Description...or, We May Be Blood Kin

The other day, I mentioned a meeting with a Sr. VP who told me to "write my own job description". My brother, Scott, got a kick out of that, and wrote one for me, as I detailed here on my post.

Finally, after a blogging hiatus, Scott's back. And that "write your own job description" uncorked a river in him...and he wrote his own job description.

I sometimes forget how alike we are...but when I read his self-authored job description, it so fits me. You know we gotta be kin!

Go here, and read Scott's real self-authored job description. You'll enjoy it!

PS - Scott...I shot 81/100 today! Come and get me!

Answers to My Last Post - or, I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

We just got in from putting on a scholarship golf tourney, and we are way tired.

I knew, though, I had to be a woman of my word, and post tonight. 365 posts, right? That's what I promised.

So, tonight, I give you comments from last night's post, where I discussed how one of the companies that's after me offered me the rarity of writing my own job description. There are several great encouraging comments, but the ones that really cracked me up tonight are from my brother Scott, and Braja from India.

To preface this, one of my work peers is Trey. Trey was instrumental in getting me hired at my present company, and I've been very honest and open with him about all this. I had posted a little PS in last night's post, for Trey's benefit. Here's how it all went down.

I wrote the PS: Trey, I know you read this. Don't freak out. I'm just debriefing.

Brother Scott said: So write it! Write your own perfect job description with your perfect salary! Then double it and present it! If they say yes, now you have a decision to make. Before that , it is just another journalism assignment. Love ya.

Then, he got a little more creative, which so I loved!

$1 million a month, for the first 6 months. Lamborghini company vehicle. 2 4-hour work days a week--no more or salary doubles for that month. No cell phone or email! They come to you and bow--if you grace them with your time and knowledge - you get % of the ticket. Your husband and brother get jobs at 1/2 of your pay with all benefits and insurance. The company must be renamed after you! You set the price of intermediate West Texas Crude by whatever mood you are in for that day! If you are blue ---Price is $70 but if you are happy - Price is $85. I don't know what it would take to get it to $100.

And then, in chimes Braja...from India...

Trey, cover your ears (she wrote):

Jeez, Janie, look into it!!!

OK Trey, it's safe to look now.

In the end, the big noises and huge promises fall flat...go with the substance...

I love you all - you all keep me sane, and on point, and on the right road. Thanks for all your comments...and for making me smile and laugh!

More Than Just A Statistic

Okay. No more suspense.

My job was “eliminated” yesterday.

I am now a statistic. Female. Executive. Over 50. Unemployed.

I’ve been a statistic before, just not “unemployed”.

I’ve been married. Divorced. Single mom. Single working mom. All those things.

But never, ever, unemployed.

And certainly not in a recession, much less a bust in the oilpatch.

I knew it was coming, my boss let it slip that I was “on the list” two weeks ago. ThatManILove and I cut a traveling trip short, came home to Midland, went straight to my office and cleaned that sucker out. (I didn’t think I could stand the pressure of someone standing over me while I boxed up my office.) My boss told me many things yesterday. Affirming I was their top producer in 2008, affirming how I conducted my business throughout the almost 2 years I’d been there. But here’s the kicker - I need affirmation, and keeping my job, in some weird way, was one of the places I somehow got that affirmation. So, I needed to know “why”. I’ll probably never know the real reasons. My boss did tell me one thing - he said if he’d known the company was ever going to go down this road, he wouldn’t have brought me into the company at all.

I’m a rainmaker. I make rain. And I made a huge amount of rain for this company. The Lord seeds the clouds, and those clouds rain relationships, and I watch over those like a hawk. I nurture them like the best mom. And I win - because a huge part of those relationships become friends, and family friends at that. For those relationships, I am so very thankful.

My employer let me keep my phone, and gave me all day to do what I needed to do. I wanted to get out of there right away, but I took the time to send out bulk mails to all my customers and clients, letting them know I was leaving and giving them my new contact information.

In retrospect, I could have done that from the house. Immediately, my my work e-mail flooded. And I felt like I needed to answer all that I could, though I forwarded some to my home e-mail for later response. The voice mail on my phone filled up 3 times - before I could get it emptied, the messages recorded on paper for later attention, it would fill up again. This morning, when I awoke, the voice mail was once again full. I still have a magnum of phone calls to return.

And in the midst of all the storm, this is where things went right. People were calling to check on me all day long, and today as well. I have never felt so loved.

Now, my bloggy friends, you’re going to get to walk this road with me. My emotions are running the gamut, but I promise to keep the rants down to a certain decibel. Already, some hilarious things have happened. Welcome to Mi Vida Loca.

Rocky Mountain Bound!

Sometimes I have to leave the house wayyyyy too early - the birds aren't even out!

Early morning Wednesday was one of those days. I had to catch a 6 a.m. flight to Denver to go run the streets with Young Whippersnapper Salesman. (I sincerely hope it's not a rerun like that post!) It will be fun, he’s a joy to be around. And I love his family. Round Robin with YWS's beautiful wife and 4 beautiful munchkins will most certainly be in the works!

I love Denver, it’s beautiful. There are a lot of neat things to do (when your husband’s along, mine won’t be!) and the weather is mostly lovely.

The high will be 86, and the low 61.

I love it.

See y’all on Friday! (And I’m posting ahead a little, so I’ll still meet my 30 day challenge! By the way, if any of y’all are going to join me on the 30 day posting challenge, let me know and I’ll link you.) My brother Scott has decided to join me, so y'all go visit (I notice he's posted very flatteringly about me on his most recent post!)

Happy Trails, Y'all, Until We Meet Again! (As That Other Janie Girl would say!)

ps - Keith Urban is in town and I don't have tickets. Waaaahhhhh. And...Three Doors Down is at the Fillmore and I don't have tickets. Waaaah some more. Guess I'll just have to make do with "America's Got Talent".

pps - I don't even know what's going on with these fonts. Sorry!

Fun With My Brother

Do you ever get to just "hang" with your sibling?

Forty miles separate Scott, my little brother, and I. Since he's hopped back into the oilpatch, we get to see each other more (his office is in Midland), and talk way more frequently. It is fun, I tell you, (even when I blow up his Kawasaki Mule), fun!

Last week, I called him to see if he was available for lunch, and he was. We met, sat down to visit, and, BAM...one of my friends taps me on the shoulder. He and his business partner sit down and join us. We all visited. It was still a fun time, and we just rolled with it, traded customer info, and sales tips. We all learn from times like those, so the time wasn't wasted.

Scott had to go out in the field, and I was nosy enough to ask where, and who it was he was going to visit. (Big Sisters have rights, you know.) Turns out it was a customer I was wanting to meet, so we teamed up and went out there to location. It was really fun going on a sales call together, but most of all, it was great just hanging with my brother.

One of those little "special" times. Love ya, Scott!! Thanks for letting me tag along.

N'Awlins, NOLA, Chocolate City Here We Come!

ThatManILove and I are trying to get packed and ready for a week of meetings and fun in New Orleans. I’m almost packed. House is clean. Cupboard is packed. Dogs are managed and ready for the housesitter. Laundry is folded and put away. TMIL is going through accounting paperwork.

I’ve moved our flights back three times. Friday to Saturday, Saturday to Sunday, Sunday to later Sunday.

I believe that this household might be experiencing some severe flight delays...ones that can’t be blamed on Crapinental. (And yes, we’re flying Southwest!)

I’ll try and blog from the Chocolate City, but no promises, Cher! Happy trails…until we meet again!

For the Love of VodkaMom, Braja, and Marinka

What the heck?

I’ve been taken hostage. I went to Denver on a business trip, a 3 day business trip, that is. One day up, one day doing business, one day home. In the middle of day one, Little Brother Scott suffered a major heart attack. We rerouted our flight, getting off and heading back to Dallas. Scott came through the surgery with flying colors and the decision was made for us to carry on to Denver.

All that to say…ThatManILove has taken me hostage and won’t let us come home until Sunday. And I’m going to go with that!

I’ve been so busy, haven’t been posting or reading. This morning, I went to read blogs and found out that Marinka and Braja have been guest-posting here and here. Those heifers, all three of them. Heifers, heifers, heifers. They’ve been having a par-tay and I wasn’t even invited!

So.

I’m gone. I’m in Denver. And if anyone wants to guest post for me, contact me. We’ll talk terms and conditions…mostly, your term is anytime you want to and the conditions are favorable for guest posters anytime I’m gone.

Just remember…my blog is published daily on the local paper webpage so you have to be nice and not post about pink thongs, toys of a different nature, or things like that.

Any volunteers?

Hello?

Anybody out there?

(Sniff. Sniff.) (Janie wipes away a tear.)

Okay. Have a great day…and please pray for Scott’s quick and complete recovery! I’m hitting the streets of Denver.

Baby's Coming Home...

ThatManILove came back to West Texas sometime around the first week of January. And went straight back out to work. I’ve actually seen him very little since Christmas. He’s been on a job where it was best that he stay at the drilling rig, where he has a trailer.

Which is okay. At least he’s within a couple of hours of home. And he has spent one weekend at home (Valentine’s!)…but mostly, he was getting caught up on rest. Then, we had to put one vehicle in the shop, and go get a rental car. Which he quickly loaded up with all the stuff out of his truck. And that which he didn’t load up, came into the front door of the house. And that’s as far as it got.

Yesterday morning, he was leaving the house, heading to another job, and he grabbed me for a quick kiss.

TMIL: Baby, Daddy’s coming home tonight. You know I’m like living out of a suitcase still, right? I’ve not even unpacked.

Janie: I know.

TMIL: No, really. I haven’t even slowed down enough to settle in since I got back from Pennsylvania.

Janie: You don’t have to tell me, dude! I know, babe.

TMIL: I don’t think you understand, honey. I need to reclaim my house. Kick Zack The Wonderdog out of my side of the bed. Unpack my clothes. I’ve really not been home, yet. And I miss my Zanna Montana Wonder Pup. And...

Janie: (I gotta stop him before he revs it up into a full out whine.) Honey. If anybody knows you’re not home, it’s me. (as I look pointedly around at the cartons of papers, steeltoe boots, suitcases, stuff…strewn…everywhere! And I’m not allowed to touch it - because God forbid I get it out.of.order!)

TMIL: Oh. Yeah. I…guess you do know I’m not home. Okay, honey. I'll see you tonight! Have a great day!

Isn’t he cute? He cracks me up.

Energy Update: That's Made from Oil? No Way!!

You know, the energy industry is either boom or bust, feast or famine. I’ve been doing what I do for 25 years, and I don’t think we’ve had a time when we could just “cruise.” To top it off, mainstream media hates the oil and gas industry. All they can talk about is the price of a gallon of gas...something that is regulated by many different things. Sometimes, it’s wearing to be in a field that is always in the negative limelight. 

I go places (outside the oilfield), and people ask what I do. When I tell them, they frown. And then, tell me, “You are EVIL.” I’m always nice, but inside, I want to scream, “Do you know you really can’t live well without us?” So, I decided I’d show you a little bit about my industry. It is, after all, an industry that I dearly love. And who knows, maybe you'll see it a little differently after today.

Way past the basics of energy for your house, and gas for your vehicle (car enamel, dashboards, antifreeze, safety glass for that front window, additives, oil, tires and fan belts, etc.), there are some of the menial things essential to living well that you utilize every day... and they all are derived in some form or fashion from the oil and gas industry.

Got an Ipod ? The casing is plastic. Plastic is made from...wait for it...petroleum.
What about that laptop or desktop? Sweet. Oilfield, baby.
Cameras for those great picture moments? For sure, oil.
Play a guitar? What makes up your strings? Oil. Oh, yeah, baby, sing it. Right through those speakers. That, by the way, are also made from a petroleum product.

Wear makeup? Most makeup has a petroleum base.
Perfume? Eyeglasses? Even your soft contact lenses? Oil, baby.
Seal it with a kiss...because your favorite lipstick probably is made from petroleum.
Need cold cream to take that lipstick off? Thank the oilfield.
How about nail polish? Oil. Don’t like the color, need nail polish remover? Oil.

Does your kiddo draw with crayons? Yup. Oilfield.
Play with Legos? Oilfield. Model cars, trains, planes? Oil and gas, baby.
Baby dolls, trucks, trikes and bikes? Oil.
Huggies? Luvs? Passies? Made from oil...to help you take care of that precious baby. And when you put him or her in that life-saving carseat? Rest assured, it’s made from Oil.

Are all your clothes white? Or that unbleached fabric? Because if they have any color to them at all, the dye has some petroleum product in it. Speaking of clothes, the detergent you wash them with - is a petroleum product.
Go fishing? Fishing rods, line, nets, boots, lures, life jackets, oars. Cooler. Water skis. Wakeboards. Tow rope. Fishing BOAT, for God’s sake. All petroleum based.
Shower curtain? Shampoo? Hand Lotion? Oil and gas. Again.

How about that cellphone? Coffeemaker? Those cool little appliances that help you make it through the day, from drying your hair to making a grilled cheese? And do you play those old LPs or CD’s throughout the day? All petroleum based.
.
Scotch Tape? Electrical tape? Duct tape? Glue? Paint brushes? Paint rollers?
Bicycle/motorcycle helmets? Trash bags? All that, and more are made from oil.

Do you use a toilet seat? Yeah. Seriously. You’re sitting on oil, baby.
How about those credit/debit cards? P.l.a.s.t.i.c. - made from o.i.l.

Are you a golfer? You couldn’t be without those little white balls! Petroleum. Shooter? Parts of your gun are made from oil. Tennis player? Rugby? Any sport known to man? I bet the oil and gas industry has some part in it.

Wax your floor? Yup. Is it linoleum? Yup again. Use a mop? Burn a candle? Oil.
How about when you write a check? Use a ballpoint pen? Oil.

What if you fall and get a booboo? Need a bandage? Oh, yeah, honey, it’ll get better with oil. Are you diabetic and need insulin injections? The syringes...are made from oil.
Take antihistamines? Aspirin? Cortisone? Wear dentures? Use a toothbrush, comb, brush, hair curlers? Glycerin, insect repellant? Gotcha. All made from Oil.

Anyone been in the hospital lately? The shunt they put in your arm to start an IV---oilfield. The Christmas tree contraption they add to that so you can get 4 different meds by 4 different delivery systems – made from oil, and the technology came from the oilpatch.

And what about the very process of running a camera into an artery? That process originated in the oilfield, as well, if I’m not mistaken. These and numerous other medical advances were fueled by the injection of oilfield workers into another field, bringing their knowledge and can-do with them.

I could go on and on, forever. But I’ll leave you with this: When your future’s so bright you gotta wear shades...remember this: you wouldn’t be sporting that badass bling without the oil and gas industry. So next time you see your favorite oilfield worker, don’t trash them. Give them a hug.

And maybe even a pair of those bling bling shades. © 2009 Janie Snelson

Happy Anniversary!

Today is my 1 year anniversary at my new job. It’s been quite a year. Lots of up, and then more recently, a down.

I’m flying to Denver right now, and tried to catch up on writing a little. As I was going through my files, I found my job offers from my present company. And I started laughing.

When this company offered me a job, I turned it down flat. They came back, offered again. (They had been talking to me for some months.) Finally, on the third offer, I decided to accept. And, then I realized…they had not converted the offer to a pdf file.

I could not resist. You guessed it…I jacked with the offer. To a huge degree of excess. I added several zeros onto every figure, and upped my vacation to 25 weeks a year, added some other perks. I signed the offer, converted it to a pdf, and sent it to my boss, with a quick e-mail: “Here it is finally! Glad we agreed and I look forward to working with you. Please forward to HR asap for processing so I might give notice.”

He did.

The next day, HR called him. And he called me.

Janie, I think we may have made a mistake on the offer letter.

Seriously? Want to retract it? I’m good with that.

No! We want you to go to work with us, but I think HR messed up when they typed it up..there are some typos. HR called me and they’re all upset.

I think he was having a heart attack. I had to confess.

Dude. It’s a rule, though most likely unwritten. Documents such as that need to be in read only form or pdf form so people can’t change them.

He cracked up. HR thought it was funny. The partners of the company found it hilarious.

The firm now pdf’s…everything.

Those Dang Serta Sheep Got Out of The Pen

Thursday night, I couldn’t sleep. Thank God I went to bed early and caught a couple of hours of shuteye, because about 1 a.m., I was a.w.a.k.e. Decided to do a little work, since I was up, anyhow.

Later Friday morning, I received this e-mail:

-----Original Message-----
To: Janie

From: Rockstar

Janie,
I am a little concerned. You see, I have a manager that is staying up all hours of the night probably because of Starbucks and blogging. Approving invoices at 2:15am and the like. What would you tell this manager?
~~~~~~~~~

From: Janie
To: Rockstar
Sent: Fri Feb 06 09:17:39 2009
Subject: RE: Worried

Rockstar,

If I were you, and I had such a manager, I would be asking the following questions of said manager:

(1) Why did you take the wrong daytime vitamins at 8:30 p.m. last night before you went to bed?
(2) What's up with ABC Oil Company calling you at 4 p.m. yesterday and demanding a 25% cut by first thing Friday morning if we wanted to stay on the vendor list?
(3) Why didn't you get to relax and read blogs instead of worrying and working all night?

Nuff said. If you forward anyone this e-mail you will be in deepa poopa...

Thanks for caring!

Janie

-----Original Message-----

From: Rockstar

To: Janie

Subject: Re: Worried

Okay you need more time to focus on the small stuff than I thought. I am glad you don't drink or you might have a bad hangover this morning.

Whaaaattt? Well, heck. At least he cares – and that’s why we call him Rockstar!

By the way, it's lunch...I am in need of speed. Caffiene. Ginko Biloba. Something.

Or, maybe just a little sleep.

Wide Awake

It’s 3:33 a.m.

I’m awake.

ThatManILove is still out in the field on a job.  I woke up, called him, he called me back.  He’ll be leaving location in the next 10 minutes or so.  Had to tell me all about the job, had questions, and my technical side kicked in.  Next thing I know, I’m trying to figure cement volumes in 4 1/2” pipe.  In my head.  And figure in the expansion properties of a certain type of cement.

Now I can’t sleep.

One of the reasons I left my old job was to get away from the 24 hour aspect of the oilfield.  I needed to get my life back, and that was but one of the factors.  I just forgot to factor in the part where ThatManILove still might get stuck on location from time to time.

I only have to get up in two more hours.  Yummy. 

That Janie Girl

One day, I got a call from a consultant. I’ll call him Lonnie.

Lonnie: Hey, Janie, I want to work for ABC Oil Company through your firm.

Janie: Lonnie! That’s great! (I went through our list of benefits. He was excited.) Okay, who do I need to call?

Lonnie: You need to call James at ABC and tell him I’m going to be working under your banner.

Janie: Consider it done.

I called James and left a message. Not once, not twice, but three times. Two days later, I get another call from Lonnie.

Lonnie: Hey, Janie. I’m going to work for ABC Oil Company, but I have to work through my old firm. James is making me.

Janie: What the HELL?I understand, Lonnie, don’t worry, we’ll get it all fixed sometime.

Lonnie: Thanks for understanding. Another thing – James said for me to “Tell that Janie girl to quit calling me.”

Janie: Gotcha, Lonnie. No problem. (In 23 years, this.is.a.first. I'm freaking out. He seriously doesn't want me to call him? I can't believe that! I've never met him!).

In my old job, if someone had a problem getting through a door, or establishing a relationship, they would send me in to "pave the way" as it were. And I enjoyed a near-perfect success rate.

Three days later, I’m in the offices of ABC Oil Company, delivering breakfast. I happen to notice James’ office is open, so I step in the door, thinking I’ll leave a business card on his desk. Only one thing’s wrong – he’s there! What do I do now?

Only one thing to do…roooooooollllllllllllll with it!

Janie: Hey, James! I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m "that Janie girl" that was calling you all the time about Lonnie.

James: Hey, Janie! (He cracks up laughing, thank God!) It’s nice to meet you. Actually, I’ve met you before, just didn’t put two and two together. I worked at the last shoot and you were competing.

Janie: Oh, yeah! I knew you looked familiar!

He then explains to me why Lonnie had to stay under his former firm – that he had taken medical leave, and needed to come back to work under that same firm. I totally understood his thinking.

The next morning, I went to breakfast with several of his coworkers, and told them all the “Tell that Janie girl to quit calling me” story. They got a big kick out of that, went back to the office, and harrassed James mightily. Poor guy, he'll probably never live over that.

It's a small oilfield out here. And needless to say, my new name has spread all over the patch - they're all calling me...

Tired and Discouraged but Here Ya Go

I'm tired. ThatManILove isn't going to be home for Christmas, so hey, I might be heading back up to the PA to be with him. We may be spending the holiday with Vodka Mom and her crew, who knows? (She SO rocks - she said we could! Now, that, people, is the LOVE of blogland!)

Anyway, I was thinking about the man, trying to remember all the funny times we've experienced. Which led me to read past blog stories. Which now leads me to repost this story, first posted April, 2007.

Not too long ago, a man and his wife were in Academy Sports. She was looking for mucker boots, and somehow got separated from her husband. Around the corner he comes, looking very pleased with himself. In his hand? A folding shovel, and a portable toilet seat that is supported by four legs. Amused, yet more than a little mortified, the wife accompanies him to the checkout, places her items on the counter…and quickly exits stage left to loiter at the entrance, leaving him to pay.

Later, they are talking with one of his fishing buddies, and the wife updates the fishing buddy on her husband’s embarrassing purchase. She thought that her husband had purchased the toilet for the camping and river trips the two men take upon occasion. She is quickly corrected by her husband. He informs his wife and his friend that he bought both toilet and shovel to assist him in taking care of "business" during his long work days out in the oilfield. The fishing buddy laughs, and more ribbing ensues.

(Her husband’s good ol’ boy fishing buddies have given him no end of grief concerning his love for the environment, taking care of business, not trashing the camping surroundings, etc. Matter of fact, she says they now call him “Dudley”, the character played by William H. Macy in the movie “Wild Hogs.” She is of the opinion that her husband mistakenly believes he is helping his buddies become a little more citified out there at the fishing camp.)

I know why the husband wants to take this little jewel of a toilet to work. The oilfield is one of those places that has virtually seen no changes after all these years, at least in the area of personal comforts. There is a distinct lack of amenities out there. One can be two hours from the nearest town and no facilities in sight. Guys have it easier than women, yet none differ when that certain need comes upon us.A month or so later, the husband, staying out of town, calls his wife. They go over the happenings of their respective days. He begins to tell her a story.

Husband: “Remember my little camping toilet I purchased at Academy?"

Wife: "Yes."

Husband: "Well, I was putting it to use today. I dug a little hole, situated the toilet, grabbed my book.”

Wife: “Grabbed your book? You are out in the middle of nowhere. Why do guys have to read when this particular body function is going on? Oh, my Lord. Okay, honey, continue…I’m sorry I interrupted you. It’s just that anybody could drive by, at anytime.”

Husband: “As I was saying, I dug my little hole, and settled in. I finished my business, and shifted to put my book on the top of my truck. I thought “Wow, this thing is really sturdy!” and, just to test it, I wiggled on it a bit…

Wife: “Yeah?”

Husband: “I felt it start to give. The legs collapsed on my toilet seat…and I fell. Right into my business.”

Wife: “WHAAAAT? What did you say?”

Husband repeats himself, adding “I had it everywhere. I’m running around with my coat on, my pants around my boots, trying to get everything cleaned up. I had to almost totally undress. And it is coooooold.”

Wife, tears of laughter running down her face, buries her head in the pillow.

Wife: "Where were the little receptacle sacks?"

Husband: "I guess they blew out of my truck, I can't find them. And, anyway, as I was cleaning up, I realized – the pulling unit was only a football field away – and Joe's up in the derrick. I look up, and Joe is staring down at me. He’s seen everything. He waved at me.”

The wife is laughing hysterically, as is the husband.

Wife sputters: “Do you think he’ll still respect you in the morning?”

Story disclaimer: Any content submitted to Sounding Forth via method of voice, written or otherwise may or may not be posted. The acceptance of any particular content is not related to its value or merit. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Any resemblance between Janie, MLH or the persons herein and real persons living or otherwise is purely incidental. And that’s the twuth…

Wordless Wednesday from an OilPatch Gal

We Ain't A-Skeered of No Woods!

The crazy things I get into, I swear.

Monday, we were up in the Pennsylvania woods on the wellsite. I promised the flowback guys I would make them some stew, and I did so. I sat in the trailer looking out the window, I saw two hunters walk out of the woods. Nosy girl that I am, I ran outside and started talking to them. Needless to say, they were shocked to see a woman on location, but were very friendly. I went and got ThatManILove, and we stood outside in the cold and visited with them. Their names were Pete and Donnie. Nice guys from different parts of Pennsylvania. They invited us to come by their deer camp.

Yesterday, on the same location, Pete came by again, to say hi and bring us some paperwork. He asked us to come by their deer camp again, and ThatManILove decided we’d do so. By this time, it is colder than a witch’s you know what, and snowing. Nasty weather. We leave about an hour after Pete, and head down the mountain. In four wheel drive, and low gear. Five miles took about 30 minutes. I’m telling you, it was one icy son of a gun going down that mountain.

We get to the bottom of the mountain, turn a hard right per Pete’s directions, and end up on this skinny road. On the left of the road is the river, I think, it was soooo dark and hard to see. On the right? Sometimes a railroad, sometimes a steep valley. Dark. Very dark. Road was muddy and slippery and only one car wide. One of those bad boys. Longest two miles of my life, and no.place.to.turn.around.

By the time we got to the end of that road to their deer camp, I swear to God I was hearing the music from “Deliverance”.

We drive up, and three guys we don’t know are smoking on the front porch of an awesome two story deer camp. We get out, go up to the porch, and introduce ourselves. Silence. We ask for Pete. Oh, they say. He’s inside. Go on in. (Don’t you know those guys had to wonder who the freakos were with the Texas license plates and the funny accents?)

Being the gentleman he is, ThatManILove opens the door for me.

Oh, no, I say. I’m not going in a deer camp before you. These guys are tired and are probably in their pink flowered pajamas. MLH looks at me with that look that says, “Oh, my lovely wife, you really are oh-so wise” and smiles, going in first. Pete comes and meets us, and brings us inside the cabin proper.

I met 11 tired hunters. Guys of all ages, from New York, Connecticut, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. They were so nice! Retired NY policeman, a retired roofing contractor, one tire shop owner, one scratch golfer, lawyer, I don't know what else. They treated me like a queen, and ThatManILove like a king. They tried to feed us supper, did card tricks for me, told us jokes, we all laughed so hard. They were great.

It was so much fun – and proof that most people are nice, wherever you go, even tried and true hunters when you invade their MAN CAVE. They’ve invited us back next year, and I hope we go!

But the best part? When we were heading back to the hotel in Clearfield, ThatManILove said the sweetest thing.

"We get to do cool stuff like that because guys LOVE you. You are so real, and you love the things they love, and you just connect with them. That was so much fun!"

Yup. And that's why I love ThatManILove.

He's not a-skeered of a little adventure!

Name That Blogger Contest!

It's cold and wet in Pennsylvania. Here are some pictures I took on location yesterday. This is where ThatManILove has spent most of the last 74 days. Craziness, but such is life in the patch. A fallen leaf, perfectly framed in about two inches of snow.

The woods on the edge of the location. Right under the hill is an old strip mine.

New location in the Pennsylvania. This location had a foot of snow on it 2 days ago.

I could have gone skating on the fresh water pit. On second thought, naaaaahhhhh.

Ice melting on the frac tank. Took me three tries to catch the droplets. I love it.

On another note entirely, tonight, we met a fellow blogger (who is hereby excluded from this particular contest) in State College, Pennsylvania. We had a blast!

First one to guess the blogger's name gets a present from Pennsylvania – and I promise, it won’t be snow!

Thanksgiving - and Lots of Snow!

I’m up in snowy Pennsylvania, with John and Suzan…and today, ThatManILove rolled in to town. Finally!! It is so good to see him – I’ve missed him so much!

Tomorrow will find us eating traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Alfano's at the Quail, which used to be one of the safe houses of the Underground Railroad. I’m excited about being in a place that was used to house slaves on their way to being free. John and Suzan said it’s amazing, and they were very humbled. I’m sure we will be, as well.

Friday will find me with ThatManILove, going back to the Pennsylvania oilfield for another three days, and then we’re driving home together. I’m excited about that, too – I’ve not seen this part of our United States! It will be a good time for us to be together, debrief, and just spend time with each other.

Our sons are healthy, safe and sound. Bob and Cherie are housesitting and keeping Zanna the Wonder Pup company. Zack the Wonder Dog is at Andy’s, hunting daily and thriving. We’ll be more than ready to see all of our family, both personal and extended, by the time we get home.

Speaking of seeing family, by the time we arrive back in Midland, Younger Son will have departed the country for his second trip to Haiti in three months. He will be working in an orphanage over there, and will return right before Christmas. He has fallen in love with the kids over there, and the people. If you think about it, pray for him as he embarks on this trek.

We’ve much for which to be thankful – and thankful, we are. And I am thankful for you, my patient and enduring readers. You daily make me smile, laugh, cry, and oftentimes, spew whatever I’m drinking through my nose onto my computer screen. Stop that, you hear? My IT guy just doesn't get it, and he's getting tired of fixing my stuff!

God bless you each and every one during this holiday season.

Three More Weeks

Three. More. Weeks.

What, you say?

Three. More. Weeks.

I just found out ThatManILove will be staying in the Pa. Three. More. Weeks. Which, when finished, will add up to the fact that he’s been gone three months. One fourth of the year. That is CRAZY. I know, I shouldn’t whine – he’s alive, he’s well, he’s not in the military, and he’s as safe as a man can be in the oilpatch. He's got an awesome job, one he loves. He’s just miles and miles and miles away.

Arrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I can’t believe it. Almost three months he’s been gone. I’ve been extremely busy, with work, the dogs, hunting, the concert, etc. My calendar brought everything home. Next week, I have to go to Houston to attend the AADE Fin Fur Feather Food Fest. Last year, MLH was working and couldn’t attend. This year, MLH is working and can’t attend. See a pattern here? When I reminded ThatManILove that Houston was next week, I thought he was going to cry. It’s a great event, lots of important people attend, and…the food is awesome! We had definitely planned to make this year a “couple event”, just like we planned to make Santa Fe a “couple event”.

I watched “Hope Floats” yesterday…and I was reminded: my cup runneth over. I’m such a blessed woman. I have a man that loves me, sons to die for, and beautiful loving dogs, a great job and a mortgage-free house. It's all good.

I miss ThatManILove. Countdown 21 days. 504 hours to go.

Wondering...

Okay. Help me out here. And before you start, know that names have been changed to protect the innocent. Well, except for mine.

As you know, I just returned home from a days long conference in New Mexico. At this conference, a young sales professional hung out with all of us. Every day. I’m going to call him Joseph.

The very act of our friendship afforded Joseph access to my immediate professional relationships, and introduced him to even others, very powerful relationships in their own right. Most young salespeople would love to have the access this young one gained in one weekend.

A young lady flew in from another town and joined Joseph, and as such, she was welcomed into our group. I’m going to call her Deanna. Deanna was precious, a beautiful single mom, and a national sales manager for a firm totally unrelated to oil and gas. The very first night she’s there, Joseph falls ill. She pitches in and takes care of him. Joseph recovers to attend all of the events on Saturday, as well as the rest of the weekend. Saturday night, we’re sitting together at the same large dinner table, and I tell Joseph that we enjoyed Deanna’s company that afternoon when she joined us for shopping on the square. (He was playing in a golf tourney.)

His comment, “Yeah? She’s sweet. But I have commitment issues. I just can’t do it. But you know, last night, she so totally took care of me when I was sick. I couldn't believe it. It’s caused me to wonder.”

She’s sitting right next to him. I’m so thankful she didn’t hear him. I want to slap him.

I’m thinking: you need to rope up, boy, and see gold when it appears in front of you. I see a committed, professional, single mom, who’s working her fingers to the bone to raise her son. She’s been given a weekend off, and been thrown in a huge mix of people she’s never met, and she is faring very well. She's not intimidated, she's visiting with others, and very interested in their responses. I’m impressed. The entire group is impressed with Deanna.

That night, after an event, Joseph and Deanna went out to a very small, no, tiny local bar with four of my friends and their wives. These friends each happen to be VPs with ABigHonkin’Service Company. (I skipped and went to the hotel, I was exhausted.) A large time was had by all, and said night ended with all the wives and girlfriends singing on the stage with the band. These ladies, with the exception of Deanna, had known each other for years. They took Deanna under their wings, and a good time was had by all. They were all having fun, and nothing untoward happened. Their husbands/significant others thought the time was great!

The next morning found Deanna without her purse. Her Louis Vuitton purse. With her I.D., credit cards, and house/car keys. All missing. Joseph calls me and lets me know. All of the VP’s go on the search. I go on the search. We go over every step of the night, every single place that was visited. We go to the reception, the dinner, the bar, and after a thorough search, find the purse, with everything intact. We’re all so relieved. Deanna almost cries with gratitude. Later on that afternoon, Deanna flies home, actually riding to the airport with one of the VPs and his wife.

Joseph is back with us again. And we’re all bragging on how much we love Deanna, how she fit in, and how sweet she was. How all the customers and VPs and their wives loved her, as well.

Joseph? Not so much. He totally trashes her, saying he can’t believe she got up on the stage in front of such powerful people. After all, he has his reputation to protect.

I’m in shock – my friends are in shock. I’m thinking my own reputation might be in danger, if he continues to act like this. I’ve known Joseph for 3-4 years. I’ve somewhat, in a limited by distance way, mentored him, opened doors for him, and have willingly done so. He works in the same industry as I, and also works with a non-profit that helps underprivileged kids. I think he can go far. This weekend he's sought my advice, and we’ve enjoyed some deep discussions concerning furthering his education, and his ultimate career path.

I tell him in no uncertain terms his vision’s a little off. Deanna was just letting her hair down, following the older adults in the group. Matter of fact, I remind him, he has some culpability here, as well. Deanna crossed no lines, and everyone loved her. I personally think that Deanna is a deep well, very disciplined, and sweet to boot. She’s one of those rare ones - a keeper.

Joseph still keeps griping. I tell him to look in the mirror, that this is really about him, not her.

The next morning, Joseph’s readying to fly home, himself, and can’t find his rental car keys. He calls me, and tells me he thinks that Deanna took the keys home by mistake. The rental car company has to drive from another town and make a new set of keys so he can get to the airport. He calls her, and she doesn’t have them. He’s still blaming her.

I give up. Whatever this is, it’s not about me.

Tonight, I receive this e-mail.

Janie-

It was great seeing you again this year at NMOGA.
As always, I had a great time with you and your friends/customers.
You are such a great person and always so kind to me. It is no wonder why you are so loved everywhere you go.

On a not so "cheesy" note, haha, I was hoping to follow up with a few people to say thanks.
If possible, please send email addresses for the below.

Dean Brown (wifes name?)
Jim Ican’trememberhislastname (wifes name?)
Danny (last name?)
Ronald & Rhoda S – BigHonkin’ServiceCo (last name?)
Peter G/J – BigHonkin’Service Co(last name?)
Dolores & Lonnie Smith

Thanks again! Hopefully next year that man you love will join the fun... ;)

G'Night!

Joseph

I don’t know if I’m more pissed that Joseph didn’t think to get their business cards or that I still might be a little ouchy from once being a single mom myself. Or if I just feel used.

Guess I’d better go look in my own mirror. If you hear this big crash, know that it shattered the moment I showed up.