Slip Sliding Away

I’m not clumsy. It’s just the floor hates me, the tables and chairs are bullies and the walls get in the way. ~ unknown author but it could have been me

Three months ago, on a dark and stormy night, much like this one, I took an embarrassing tumble – more of a slipping sliding landing on my seat stumble, down my RV steps. I was pretty sure this fall was a little more complicated than the last or 20 or so I’d taken. Usually I fall over and bounce right back up like a Bozo the Clown punching bag.

Maybe my problem is that I still cling to the imagine of an entire P.E. history of A+’s and I haven’t come to terms with my past mid-life clumsiness. Truth is, I tip over a lot. In this instance, however, the steps were wet, I was in a hurry so the guys at the gate wouldn’t have to wait, I went down and I didn’t bounce back.

My not so subtle landing on the last step (there are only 4) shook the RV like an explosion (always a possibility in our business). Heidi woke up, got dressed and was out the door in about 57 seconds. I’m pretty far past stoic when it comes to pain but this time I just sat there. It’s hard to describe. It felt like someone had just rammed a fiery poker through my knee.

I wrote about this back when it happened. I fell the first week of February which was fortuitous, if a fall can be fortuitous, since 10 days later we had a week off between the stacking of our old rig and our Company Man calling us to follow him at his new rig.

During the week off I did all the things you do with a bum knee. I sat – a lot – with my leg elevated and wrapped in ice.

I tried Ibuprofen and Aleve and Aspercreme.

When it was time to get back to work, Heidi bought every kind of knee brace Walmart carries. I have 1 that I can wear under my black pants which are loose and 1 that I wear over my jeans which aren’t and 1 that I sleep in so the other 2 can air out.

After 3 months of being afraid to exercise or move really, our rig came back to the area where my PA is located. I went in this week and it took her about 2 minutes to determine that I have a torn meniscus – a common injury of athletes and old people.

My PA referred me to an Orthopedic surgeon who would do an MRI and then would prescribe surgery or PT. Self employment has it’s benefits but medical insurance isn’t one of them.

For some reason, the diagnosis discouraged me. I don’t know why? After 3 months of quite a lot of pain, what was I hoping she would say? I already knew it hurt – a lot – so why I thought a torn meniscus was bad news, I’m not sure.

Here’s what happened that night. The gate was quiet at my TSL.  I watched 3 old episodes of Glee and 2 of Jeopardy. Pathetic, I know. It’s was during the “Think music” that I got over myself and started thinking.

I made the uncharacteristic decision to be ‘pro-active’ – a word I’ve never even used in a sentence, let alone applied. I Googled torn meniscus, read about 20 articles and looked at 5 or 6 sites with rehab exercises. I picked the WebMD exercises because they have a good reputation and pictures. I need pictures. I get confused without pictures.

I wrote every  exercise out in detail. Then I got the great idea of putting the computer on the floor (so I could study the pictures) and I plopped myself down beside it. The first exercise was called a Quad set. The exercise required a towel under the ‘injured leg’. I started to get up to get a towel and found out that, well, no, getting up wasn’t really an option.

I know me. I was pretty sure that once I managed to get up, I wouldn’t get back down again so I scooted over to the chair and grabbed the yarn, needles and all – stuck the yarn under my leg, prayed for no traffic and began my rehab.

During those 30 minutes, the bell didn’t ring even once. I eventually rolled myself over to the sofa and dragged myself up. I felt entirely better. My leg hurt maybe just a little worse but my attitude changed completely.

I was very impressed with myself. When Heidi got up I shared my new rehab plan with her. Ever the practical one, she thought probably it would be better to carry out this choreography while she’s up and can get the gate. True.

Yesterday was rehab day two!

Walkin’ In High Cotton

We’re walkn’ in high cotton, which is actually pretty short, but its high cotton all the same. Now this is a surprise to me because I didn’t know (before moving south) that cotton was grown in Texas.

Guess which state in the nation grows the most cotton?

Texas, whose 3-year average production was over 6.2 million bales of cotton for the years 2006 through 2008, is the leading cotton-producing state. ~ National Cotton Council of America

So yes, there’s more than a little cotton down here and I expect we were bound to end up sittin’ in the middle of it sometime. And so we have!

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I blame my lack of knowledge regarding Texas and cotton on Mr Brokaw, CCR and Alabama. Mr. Brokaw was my high school History and Geography teacher. He was also the assistant football coach. We mostly learned about the history of football.

A bale of cotton weighs about 500 pounds. ~ NCCA

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If I’m going to be totally forthcoming, much of my particular view of geography and history comes from the fact that most of the ‘facts’ I remember are lyrics spinning in my weirdly wired jukebox brain. I can’t think about cotton (the look … the feel… the fabric of our lives) without a jingle or a song playing in my head.

I was influenced a lot by those around me – there was a lot of singing that went on in the cotton fields. ~ Willie Nelson

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And I can’t look out the window without thinking about cotton so my brain’s a’ hummin’. Sometimes it’s Creedance Clearwater Revival singing about the Cotton Fields of Louisiana.

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One bale of cotton can make 1,217 men’s T-shirts or 313,600 $100 bills. ~ NCCA

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But most of the time the tune that’s playing as the current soundtrack to my life is Alabama singing High Cotton. It’s a look back at the good life in Alabama and not really about cotton, apart from the high reference, but I like it the best anyway.

And I love this video. It’s one of those click on the button to fill the screen and sit back and be grateful videos.You don’t have to be  a fan of country music to enjoy it!

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We are so walkin’ in High Cotton!

• We have a job
• We like the job
• We really like the guys we work with
• We haven’t seen a rattlesnake or a tarantula in almost a year
• We’ve been mouse free for months
• We have a real pea gravel pad 3 times the size of our RV
• We almost made it to August before temps settled in the 100+ range

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• It’s been weeks since I’ve had giant bugs nesting in my hair or t-shirt
• It’s been months since I’ve thrown water on a donkey
• Fallen on any cow
• Run into a tree with the RV
• I haven’t left the RV for 7 weeks
• SO, I haven’t gotten lost in 7 weeks

Hard to beat all that! High Cotton, for sure! 😀

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The immature flower bud on a cotton plant is called a square. ~ University of Arkansas, Division of Agriculture

Go figure. They look round, kind of like walnuts, to me. But then again, I’m the one who didn’t know there were cotton crops in Texas so who am I to say. 😀

Do What You Like – Like What You Do

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The pictures on the front of the Life is Good t-shirts vary but their trademark philosophy is always same: Do what you like. Like what you do. Optimism can take you anywhere.

As I mentioned in my last post, there are actually quite a variety of jobs you could be assigned as gate guards. Some you might like better than others. These are the most common ones:

• Jobs where you live right on the site and work safety, wear flame retardant clothing. and keep track of where everyone is at all times. I don’t see myself ever doing that but I’m guessing some folks like it.

OK, this is one of our guys, but can you imagine an already hot-flashing 55-year-old woman suiting up in 100+ degree temps? Me, either! I’m pretty sure I’d become the safety issue on the rig! 😉

• Jobs where you work just FRAC (tons of traffic) and follow a FRAC crew. This involves moving every 6-10 days. The gate guards I’ve talked to that do this, love it. I have no idea why? We have way too much HUAD for that one!

• Jobs where you start with the drilling rig and stay on site through FRAC and completion.

• Jobs where you stay at a production site (we have friends who did this for over a year). They had all their meals catered and locked the gate at 10 each night and opened at 6 every morning while making the same pay we all make on a 24 hour gate. I wouldn’t hold my breath hoping to get one of these.

• Jobs with multiple active holes where you make a little extra for each drilling hole if someone is living at each site.

• Jobs with unfortunate placement. We worked a gate by the highway where the traffic for 6 sites stopped by us on their way to: our rig, or the FRAC (which had their own gg), or the construction of our second pad, or the production plant, or the pipe line, or the 2nd well (which also had their own gg )… It wasn’t a big deal, but it was really busy. We were sort of like the traffic cops in the middle of the street and blow whistles and point a lot. 😀

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I’m sure there are other industry related gate guard jobs, but the majority work in one of these areas, or like Heidi and I, follow a drilling rig. With the 2 brief exceptions noted in my last post, following a rig is all that we’ve done and we like it quite a lot. The kind of experience you have following a rig depends on a lot of things – chemistry mostly. Sometimes you click and sometimes you clash. We’ve been very fortunate to always click.

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We loved our year with our previous gig, and we’ll never forget those guys! It was quite an introduction to gate guarding! It’s hard to forget people who bring you tarantulas in a crock pot or rattlesnakes slithering around in their truck bed or the snare wild hogs right outside your window at night! We were so sad for us and happy for them when the rig got called back to their home state of Louisiana.

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There are many, many nice people to work for and with in this business and, I’m told, some that aren’t as nice. This isn’t a glamor job (clearly) 😉 and attitudes toward gate guards vary. The Texas Railroad Commission requires gate guards, so to some companies the position is just a necessary evil and to others, it’s a part of their team that they value.

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We’ve been fortunate to make the team for the second time. We’ve struck gold with this company and drilling rig. We’ve enjoyed every day (well almost every day ;)) of the 5 months we’ve been with them. We’ll be taking a few weeks off in a few weeks with the repeated assurance that when we return, they expect us back because we’re “family” now.

That’s really nice. You can see from the photo below, we practically live on the pad.

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You certainly can find something wrong with any job. This one is hot and dusty. It’s a long way from home no matter where you live, even if you live in Texas!

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The pay, before taxes, comes to $5.21 an hour. The only thing that makes this job financially viable is that we work 24 hrs a day(no napping on the job since we always try to be out the door in under 10 seconds). That, of course, means we work every weekend and every holiday. As year-rounders following a rig, we work 100 or 200 or 300 days straight. It helps to take a couple of weeks off about every 6-8 months.

What it comes down to mostly is your outlook. It’s like the Life is Good shirts. Do what you like. Like what you do. We focus on what we like about what we do. Like right now, it’s 2 in the morning and I can do my job well and still blog (when the internet is favorable) and watch the pre-recorded Olympics in between trucks. There’s virtually no stress or conflicts to resolve since no one cares what we think because we don’t know anything about whatever the problem is!

As for the last part of the Life is Good philosophy: Optimism can take you anywhere, be careful with that one. I’ve always been pretty optimistic and look where that took me! 😉

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Somewhere Near Nowhere

I’m watching the opening ceremonies of the 2012 Summer Olympics while I write this (recorded earlier) and while I work the gate at 3 a.m. I’m not sure why I’m watching the Parade of Nations? Maybe just because it’s a nice reminder of the humanity behind the politics.

Plus, how else would I have known that the owner of a Malaysian gold mine has offered a Gold Bar worth $600,000 specifically to any Malaysian athlete who wins a gold medal in Badminton? For that matter, how would I have known Badminton was an Olympic sport?

This post is part 1 of 2 about what you might expect if you decide to head for Texas Tea/ Black Gold country. Reading my blog, or even the majority of blogs about gate guarding, you may be under the impression that it’s a job where you guard the gate for a drilling company.

Sometimes.

Our first 3 1/2 weeks on the job we were on a hunting ranch in Tilden, guarding water we never saw, working for a Company Man we never met. We opened and shut the gate after each truck, or stream of trucks. It was one big, heavy gate!

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From there we joined FO and Lantern 16 (drilling rig). We followed them (by invitation, we weren’t stalkers :D) for 11 months. The roughnecks (which are now called employees) were a wild bunch and certainly made that first year interesting! They were good to us and we decided then that we really liked following a rig. We’d hoped to follow them right into retirement, but they stacked in November.

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We subbed for some folks on a drilling rig for a couple of months over the holidays last winter.

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A typical gate for us

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When the gate guards came back, we joined the Winter Texans. I’ve mentioned before that Texas, unlike every other southern state in the nation, does not have Snow Birds. Texas brands everything so down here it’s Winter Texans.  After a week or so of waiting, we spent 1 long week 500 miles straight south of  Nowhere, Oklahoma which wasn’t near Anywhere in Texas.

I can understand why the group, Cross Canadian Ragweed, sang about Nowhere in Texas because I’ve been there.

Why don’t you roll with me baby down to Nowhere, Texas
I got nothin but time
Jump in the cab of my 70 Chevy
Leave Oklahoma far behind
My good friend told me once Texas is big enough
That a man could get lost
Roll down that window
Open that glove box
Give that road map a toss

A woman could get lost in Texas, too. I know. I do it all the time. 😀

Texas is also big enough that you may not have a tower for your satellite TV or your internet or even your cell phone, which was the case for us Somewhere that felt like a long way from Nowhere. This gate was kept shut and padlocked at night, even though we had traffic. It was kind of eerie going out at 2 a.m. and fumbling with the combination while blinded by headlights.

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2 days into the job, for the first and only time ever, we called our mgr and asked for a replacement. We stayed 5 days until he found someone. I took a bit of flak here for that decision. It goes back two posts. We each have to do what makes us comfortable and we weren’t comfortable being that isolated.

Since I’d ripped off a part of  the side of the brand new RV the second week we had it as I cut too close to a tiny palm tree, we left a week early for our appointment in the Houston repair shop (Bob Jones RV – really great folks to work with if you need someone in Houston).

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On the way to the Texas Bayou to wait for our repair appointment, we picked up a stone that shattered the back window. Heidi got really creative at Home Depot!

My son, who lives in New Jersey, had a February conference in Houston so we’d scheduled the repairs to coincide with his trip.

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After the visit, which was grand, and the repairs, which took 10 days – there was a whole lot of repainting involved –  we headed back to wait for a gate. It was a long wait. By now, we knew what we wanted so we waited.

Heidi and I will never strike oil, but we do seem to have struck gold with an oil company for the second time. Before I get into that, I’d like to share a little more about some other options you may have if you hit highways and they carry you south to the unique world of Texas Tea and Black Gold. But not tonight since this already too long. I’ll close this with Dave Barry’s ever wise words:

Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic. ~ Dave Barry

What is THE RIGHT RV?

I grew up camping. I was born in Elkhart, Indiana and lived in Middlebury until I was 11. If you’re familiar with camping back in the 50’s and 60’s, that was the Camper Capitol of the World.

I’ve camped in a sleeping bag/tent-less, in a pup tent and in a big family tent –  but most of my camping has been off the ground in something.

My Dad’s the one w/o the cowboy hat. Can’t remember him ever wearing one.

The green and yellow Cox fold down was our main summer get away for years and years. Those were the days of big hair and big curlers – even in Indiana. Except for me, my Dad cut mine as you could probably have guessed.

1965 – me, my Cousin, my Sis, Mom, my Aunt & Uncle. I don’t know why the Cox is set up. Surely they didn’t fly from CA to be relegated to the backyard?

A few years later, my folks bought a little 19 foot Phoenix Travel Trailer.

1968 – new trailer, old Chevy

I’ve gotten so many emails asking what THE RIGHT RV is for Full-Timing and for Gate Guarding. This isn’t a topic I probably would have ever addressed but I’m glad you’ve asked because this is one area where I’m strongly opinionated.

Here’s my advice: Buy what you want. 😀

Really folks, telling someone what kind of RV to get is like telling them whether to buy a Cape Cod or a Tudor or Condo – or rent an apartment!  How presumptuous to think we know what’s right for someone else. Doesn’t that just floor you?

We’re not talking about camping anymore. For some, an RV is their home at least half of the year. For many of us, it’s our only home. So I’m completely baffled when people write to me and say that a blogger has told them never buy (all of these have been mentioned): *New, *Used, * 5th wheel, *Motorhome, *Trailer, *White Paint, *Special Paint. *Too Big, *Too Small…

A fool and his advice are easily parted. (OK, that’s not exactly how the saying goes but I think it’s just as true.)

The right RV is the one that you’re comfortable with in all aspects: budget, pulling/towing, amenities etc… I received an email from someone who said a gate guarding blogger wrote: Only an idiot would buy a new RV and bring it to Texas.

Down here they’d say: He’s all broth and no beans.

For me, that would have been the end of that. I’m not likely to seek advice or even just have many conversations (or blog visits) with someone who shares his opinion by insulting others. But it bothered the person who wrote to me quite a lot, so I’ll address it.

As they say in the South: Well, slap my head and call me silly! because I’ve done that twice (bought a new one and brought it to Texas).

Well, technically, only once. Heidi bought a new 2007 32 ft Motorhome in the spring of 2008 (better price because it was last year’s model). Eventually, Henry and I hopped aboard and we headed for Oregon and ended up in Texas.

Last fall, for a variety of reasons, we decided to switch to a 5th wheel and bought a new 2012, 40 foot Brookstone. There she goes again, bless her heart. I’ve been told that, in Texas, you can get away with all insults by adding bless her heart at the end. 😉

If you’re truly in a quandary between a Class A and a 5th Wheel, I’ve written about it a couple of times: Full Timing It in an RV, What Would You Buy which includes a reader’s poll and some really interesting comments. And The Winner Is…which lists some of the pros and cons that other RVers were kind enough to share and more of their comments.

But in the end, there’s no right RV. Get what you like. Get what works for you.

We’re in the middle of a move – 16 miles down the road. By middle, I mean we were suppose to move yesterday morning at 8 and found out yesterday morning at 6:30 that we’re moving tomorrow morning at 9 as far as we know this morning at 4. 😉

Flexibility is key in this job! I’ll write about that in my next post.

Back When I Knew Everything: A Cautionary Tale About Advice

Hey folks!

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I’m going digress from my normal story-telling mode in an attempt to answer some of the questions that I’ve been getting via email re: gate guarding. On RV forums and in a smattering of blogs, you read the words Always and Never quite a lot. Always and Never are two absolutes that beg for contradiction.

The one thing people are the most liberal with, is their advice. ~Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Here’s my advice:

• 1. If you want to get a feel for the job, read a variety of blogs

• 2. Don’t pay too much attention to advice  😉

Some people are natural advice givers. You won’t have to travel to very many gates in your reading before you see that many of the most highly opinionated folks contradict each other in the way to do almost every aspect of the job. That’s perfectly fine. They’re just sharing their opinions and they have different ones.

When your mother asks, “Do you want a piece of advice?” it is a mere formality. It doesn’t matter if you answer yes or no. You’re going to get it anyway. ~ Erma Bombeck

Most of us, although I’m sure there are exceptions, would advise you not to drink the potable water, unfiltered from the tap. That may be about it for universal gate guarding truths. No matter how firmly or strongly stated, we’re just sharing our opinions. As in most of life, the majority of things that come up each day are a matter of taste, opinion, conviction, constitution and circumstance.

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There is no Holy Grail for gate guarding. No one person speaks for all. You may find that you learn as much from someone who’s been gate guarding  for 3 months as you do someone who’s been doing it for 3 years.

I think the thing about being a gate guard is so that it’s so out of the norm for most of us. We’ve  generally had altogether different kinds of careers and have lived in altogether different kinds of environments.

Then, one morning, you find yourself standing at a gate – or just in the middle of the road – with an orange vest and a clip board and usually very little to no instruction.

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We turn to each other for tips and that helps. Just keep in mind that we’re all  just sharing what works for us. It may or may not work for you.

Know when to tune out, if you listen to too much advice you may wind up making other peoples mistakes. ~ Ann Landers

It reminds me of the Montgomery Gentry song, Back When I Knew Everything

Back when the world was flat
And Mom and Daddy didn’t have a clue
That was back
Back when a pitcher of beer
And a couple shots made me bulletproof
Back when “God” was a name I used in vain
To get a point across when I got ticked off
Lord, I’m learning so much more than
Back when I knew it all

When we started in December of 2010, I didn’t know anything about gate guarding or the industry or Texas.

Now I know a few things. 😀

I’ll write a some posts in the days ahead about what I’ve learned and how we handle certain situations. Take what works for you and toss the rest.

I found out credit cards don’t mean you’re rich
And beer and gasoline don’t mix
Yeah, and step side trucks can’t jump a ditch
And those “big house” rooms sure are small
I’ve learned that love is a woman that’ll settle you down
A Sunday sermon can turn life around
And I can’t believe answers I’ve found
Since back when I knew it all

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If you have something specific that you’ve been wondering about that you’d like me to address, feel free to write to me @ branson.debbie@ gmail.com and I’ll gladly share my opinion. I’m hoping other gate guards will hop aboard and share their experiences.

The only things worth learning are the things you learn after you know it all. ~ Harry S Truman

The Frog Whisperer

It’s been raining – quite a lot –  but that doesn’t really explain it.

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There was that brief time, back in May, when we were parked right next to a swamp. There, it would have been less surprising. But here, south of Kenedy and a very long way from any water, well, it’s just odd.

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Since the rains started a few days ago, stepping outside at night is like stepping into the 2nd of the 9 plagues. As far as I know, they didn’t have  Tumblebugs Egypt and ours have washed away, but the activity on the green carpet and surrounding area continues.

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We’ve switched from insects to amphibians.

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I like frogs. I try not to step on them on my way to the gate. As soon as I start down the steps, they freeze. I guess they think if they don’t move, I won’t see them.

You can keep your willpower, Frog. I am going home to bake a cake. (The Toad)      ~ Arnold Lobel

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Blah, said Toad. ~ Arnold Lobel

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The cynics among you may think that they’ve come to eat the bugs the lights beckon at night.

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Time’s fun when you’re havin’ flies! ! Kermit

But I have another theory and I’m pretty sure it’s valid. To test it, I cornered a frog. He told me the first part of the story.

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When I sit at the table and turn on the computer, Henry likes to take the window seat. I thought he just liked watching the men and the cows and the trucks and the rig.

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It took some persuasion, but I finally got one of them to come clean.

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This last little guy led me straight to the source.

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I came inside where I found The Frog Whisperer feigning sleep. He’d tried to cover his tracks, but as you can see, he was in a hurry and didn’t do a very thorough job of it.

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Come back and wake me up…..half past May! (the Toad)            ~ Arnold Lobel

Really, I think he’s just being modest about his gift. He’s Henry VIII. He’s too shy be a Cesar, but he does know how to whisper. I’m convinced.

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Confessions of a Closeted Dieter

I’m on a diet. OK, maybe not a diet since everybody says diets are a remarkably unsuccessful way to lose weight. I’m on a quest to be able zip my jeans, sit down and still breath.

This is not my first attempt at breathing while sitting and it’s not my first attempt at dieting changing my eating habits. There are a few obstacles. I’m menopausal and if you aren’t or haven’t been, never mind. I’m remarkably sedentary. It’s one of the perks curses of the job.

I fall back on the excuse explanation that I work late afternoons when it’s really, really hot and nights when it’s really, really dark.

For me, dieting changing the way I eat, isn’t something I talk about because:

1. I might decide not to, in a day or a month and well, then, that’s embarrassing…

2. It invites tons (pun) of advice about diet eating differently and exercise

3. It’s just an a bad topic. If you need to lose weight and aren’t in the mood, nothing is more annoying than hearing someone ramble on about it. If you don’t think you need to lose weight (no matter what you weigh) then you’re either blessed with an incredible metabolism, you’re an overachiever in the area of self-control, you’re into things like being healthy or you’re not a female living in America – any of which makes the topic moot for you.

So, I’ve kept my quest to myself with the exception of telling Heidi and Henry, in the off-chance they should happen to encounter large or small flying objects (you know how dieting changing eating habits can make some people so moody).

I already had LIVESTONG.com (which is free) set up on my laptop. It’s a simple program: enter your activity level and weight goals and you get a suggested calorie count. Eat something. Type it in and it breaks it down into carbs and proteins and fats etc…

We began working with this rig on March 5th. My regular exercise regiment consisted of going up and down the 4 steps of the RV dozens of times each day. When that made me tired, I decided on April 1st – no fooling – that I had to make some changes.

Of course I haven’t said anything to the guys here on the rig. Seriously, only slender women talk to men about their need to lose weight. Mostly, only women who are a size 2, 4, 6, 8 or 10 talk to anyone about their weight! The rest of us pretend like it’s invisible and we’re the only ones who see it.

Once our Company Men decided that we were “family”, they decided to feed us. Sometimes they cook for the whole rig. Sometimes just for themselves and us.

It’s been 2 months to the day since I’ve been faithfully typing my food into LIVESTRONG. These are just some of the meals we’ve been graced with (I haven’t always remembered to take a picture) in the past two months. I’m including partial descriptions since the specific content is sort of unclear in some of these shots.

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Chicken Fried Steak, Black Eyed Peas, Fried Okra, Mashed Potatoes & Gravy

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Breakfast Tacos

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Steak, Potato salad, Scalloped Corn, Green Beans, Peach Cobbler

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Breakfast Burrito – almost forgot to take a picture as you can see!

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Pigs in a Blanket

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Steak and Sausage cookout

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Flintstone Ribs, Sausage, Mashed Potatoes & Green Beans (both w/bacon) 😀

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Steak and Ribs (buried under the huge steaks) and Sausage Cookout

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Chicken Fajitas from the FRAC wagon (even though it wasn’t our site)

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Catfish, Shrimp, Mac and Cheese, Green Beans and Cobbler

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Steak, Shrimp, Mashed Potatoes, Corn (no meat added to corn) 😉

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Fried Chicken, French Fries, Fried Potatoes, Fried Okra from the FRAC Wagon

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Louisiana Crawfish Boil

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Amazing Steak! I’m from Iowa. I know my pork and beef.  The steaks here are so tender, you don’t even need a knife, Scalloped Potatoes, Cobbler etc…

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Shrimp, Steak & Chicken Kabobs, Bacon in the Green Beans, Wild Rice and Banana Split Cake

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Our Directional Driller’s Homemade Jambalaya

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Ribeye Steak, Gigantic Baked Potatoes, Texas Toast & Beans, of course

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Homemade Hot Tamales – and yes, I knew not to eat the husks this time! 😀

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Cajun Meat Pies

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Homemade Crawfish Etouffee (left), homemade Guacamole which Heidi claims was the best in the world, & what was left of the Chorizo and Eggs (on top of the guacamole) when I got up! 😉

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Grilled Pork Steaks, Cajun beans, Potato Salad and Squash (that even I liked)

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Our CM’s batch of his special Cajun Creamy Taco

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Yep. Now you can see why I’m a closeted dieter trying to fit into the clothes in my closet!

No complaints. Not only can we make 3 meals out of every meal, we never buy meat, except for an occasional package of chicken!

And I always say:

If you gain five pounds….it’s water.

If you lose five pounds….it’s weight.

If you gain 15 pounds….it’s Cajun cookin’ y’all!

I Know An Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly

I know an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don’t know why she swallowed the fly
Perhaps she’ll die

I know an old lady who swallowed a spider
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly
But I don’t know why she swallowed the fly
Perhaps she’ll die

Well, you know the rest. If you don’t, I’ve added a video of Judy Collins singing this on Sesame Street.

I’m feeling a lot like the old lady in the song. I’ve never swallowed a fly, as far as I know,  just a few moths and at least a half of a spider, but I am combating entomophobia with a touch of DOP.

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I don’t know what these are but we’ve had thousands of them!

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Two different conditions are recognized that relate to an inordinate fear of arthropods like insects and spiders. Entomophobia (“entomo” = insect + “phobia” = fear) refers to an unreasonable fear of real arthropods. The key here, as with other phobias, is that the fear involves a real stimulus, in this case an insect or spider, encountered in everyday activities. For example, a spider found inside the home might trigger this intense fear reaction.

A condition called delusions of parasitosis (DOP), or delusional parasitosis, on the other hand, is a severe, debilitating reaction to an imagined infestation. Delusions are a mistaken belief and in this case the person believes, wrongly, that they are infested with an insect or mite, or that they are being repeatedly bitten.

~ Jack DeAngelis, PhD, OSU Entomologist

My latest troubles began with the bee-like thing with pincers that nested in my hair while I was logging in a truck and burrowed into my head. The harder I pulled at him, the deeper he went. I had a sore head for days. He’s looking a little worse for wear in this photo. I took a picture in case I broke out in hives or went into anaphylactic shock (which was more likely to happen from eating the crawfish, but still…). That way if  Heidi found me passed out on the floor, she would know what bit/stung/pinched me.

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Of course, there was that cricket the size of a Dorito thumping the mouse trap.

The last few nights have heightened my entomophobia. There was the furry spider on the door, the creepy spider with white spots that lives on the night lights and the red spider that spins in the wheel well at night.

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Then, night before last, it was the giant winged thing that came in stealth-fully (again, probably in my hair). I’m beginning to redefine hair-net as: my hair that nets every winged creature! He came in quietly. I didn’t notice. Hours later, he dropped down on my head from somewhere while I was reading. I can’t tell you how much I hate arthropods dropping on my head.

You can’t really get a true idea of this from the picture but he/she was about the size of a monarch butterfly when it spread it’s wings… and u g l y!

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He fell on my head. I jumped out of the chair. Henry flew out of his bed. The giant flying thing went all kamikaze on us – bouncing off the walls and ceiling and even under the table.

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Henry isn’t much of a mouser but he does go after bugs, but this one was too much for him. He couldn’t get to it. I was disappointed to wake up and have Heidi say the winged creature disappeared shortly after she got up. He resurfaced just  few hours ago. I was a little more prepared tonight. I knocked him out with one of Heidi’s Crocs before he could get fully airborne.

I carried him outside.

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We’re pulling out of the hole right now which mean there were non-stop cement trucks and tankers. By the time I’d logged everyone and returned inside and sat down to read again, my DOP kicked in big time.

Although I knew it wasn’t possible, I felt the giant winged thing crawling down my back.

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t that giant winged thing. It was a this giant winged thing.

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I’d rather have DOP, but I don’t think I do. So far, everything I’d hoped I was just imagining was crawling on my skin, was real and worse than I’d imagined.

I may have entomophobia but there’s something about being phobic that implies it’s a little irrational and I don’t think that’s that case either.

I think I just have boundary issues.

And, all things considered, I think they’re pretty reasonable. I’m saving the snakes and frogs for another day. I actually love the frogs but I wish they’d eat the giant winged things.

It’s supposed to be in the 90’s this week. Still, a hoodie is starting hold a certain appeal!

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It’s a Man’s World

If the world was perfect, it wouldn’t be.    ~ Yogi Berra

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To quote the late James Brown, it’s a man’s world, at least it is in the oil/natural gas industry.

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According to Catalyst it looked something like this in 2011:

Male-Dominated Industries in Canada and the U.S.
Industry	Women’s Share in Canada, 201110	Women’s Share in U.S., 201111
Agriculture	29.5%	N/A
Agriculture, Forestry, Fishing & Hunting	N/A	24.7%
Construction	11.2%	9.2%
Fishing, Hunting, and Trapping	16.0%	13.7%
Forestry and Logging with Support Activities	14.8%	N/A
Mining (including oil and gas extraction)	19.0%	12.1%
Utilities	24.7%	22.2%

Women in Management in Male-Dominated Industries

Those stats are just management. By the time you get to a drilling rig, or FRAC or production or completion, the percentage of female employees is next to nil.

I just want to thank everyone who made this day necessary.     ~ Yogi Berra

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We have deep depth.  ~ Yogi Berra

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Gate guards, which are made up of about 55% men and 45% women, don’t count since we’re Security not Mining. There are still several men who work gates solo but only a couple of women. We’ve met  two other women teams –  a mother and daughter and two that are good friends. Needless to say, in this man’s world, men do not work in teams at a gate. Can you imagine 2 men living in an RV? They can’t even sit next to each other at the movies! 😀

If you don’t know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else. ~ Yogi Berra

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So yes, it’s a man’s world.

He hits from both sides of the plate. He’s amphibious.             ~ Yogi Berra

In a year and a half, we’ve worked with 1 woman who was our geologist, 1 woman who was a safety trainer and maybe 2 or 3 female semi drivers.

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Other than the women in sales, we live in a man’s world, deep in the heart of very macho Texas!

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It ain’t the heat, it’s the humility. ~ Yogi Berra

Heidi and I spoke to groups of health care professionals for nearly 25 years,  90% of whom were women.  Yogi got this one right – at least partially. 😀

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It isn’t the heat (or the gender), it’s the humility, the attitude, that makes the difference between people who are good to work for and with, and those who can make the day really unpleasant.

These guys get a lot of credit. I know it was a shock when their gate guards arrived in this man’s world and we were both women! We’ve gotten used to each other over the last 7 weeks. They’ve decided we’re “family”.  It’s mostly a man’s world, but it’s our world, too. 😀

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