For the past few months, I have been secretly, and sometimes not so secretly, coveting the life of a certain Pioneer Woman. I don't know what combination of her skills has intrigued me so, but her blog hits on so many of my basic likes, I find myself at one of her sites almost daily - she is a terrific writer, loves to take photographs, she cooks, she lives on a really cool cattle ranch (in which I find the farmhouse and the views much more appealing than the actual working of cattle), and she can write a romance novel as well as Nora Roberts!
So, for the past quarter-of-a-year, my family has heard the mantra - When the kids don't want to work: You know, Pioneer Woman's kids have to get up at 4:30 every morning to work cattle - even the little ones!; When I'm behind on the laundry - Pioneer Woman is getting a whole new laundry room to deal with all the laundry she has to do!; When I'm trying something new for dinner - Well, Pioneer Woman says this is Marlboro Man's favorite sandwich, so I thought we'd try it, too!; When Chance wants to drive the car by himself - Well, Pioneer Woman lets her girls, who are the same age, drive F250's with loaded hay trailers in the back, so surely it won't hurt to let Chance drive to the mailbox . . .
You get the picture.
Finally, Matt had had enough. "Who is this Pioneer Woman, and why is she invading my household? Although we live pretty well in the middle of nowhere, we do not run a cattle ranch, we do not haul trailers full of 1-ton rolls of hay, and although I liked the sandwich, can't we name it something other than another guy's favorite sandwich? Actually, here's the deal. You think you want to be a Pioneer Woman? Let's test that out . . . . Last weekend of October, we will head to the family's cabin in the mountains - hours (or minutes) from civilization, no running water, wood fireplace for heat, and wood stove for cooking - we'll see how you do as a 'Pioneer Woman' "
Tune in tomorrow to see how I fared . . .