Good Morning.

It’s Tuesday, and I’m a day behind. But! BUT! I have a fantastic story I’ll be sharing with you all tomorrow, which is why I wasn’t able to post my “Copper Hue’d Mondays” yesterday, on Monday.

These images are from my “wish wall” and are the basis of some of my copper inspiration.

Found at Interior Dream

Found at The Lennoxx

The “No Tell Room” found at The Farmers Daughter Hotel

This next photo isn’t a room, but I utterly love this vintage plate rack. LOVE!

Found at Design, Decor…

Anyone else have any sites they recommend for getting creative decor ideas? Paint schemes? Accessories? Furniture?

Enjoy!

BOX!

Say it with some emphasis. Really; get into it!!

Today’s story is brought to you by Old George! Nothing smells quite like Old George. You can purchase Old George at your local Gibsons, home of the “6 for a $1.00″ salted nut rolls.

Lord, how I miss Gibsons! Home of cheap ammunition, salted nut rolls, irregular Dickies and scratchy wool blankets. A kid could be hog happy with a summer’s supply of .22 shells and nut rolls. We used to hide both in some tree’s, on what was an old homestead on the farm in the valley. Shells, nut rolls and toilet paper. Because frankly, walking the mill back to the house to visit the rain room wasn’t exactly high on our list of priorities when in the midst of a rowdy game of cowboys and indians. When I think back on playing with my brothers and cousins out at the old homestead it brings to mind one of the last memories I have with my dad before his death, and instantly, my mouth waters. The roasted pig from THAT summer! Pure bliss!

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

BOX!

Honestly, the story behind my yelling “BOX!” as an expletive is really one of those “you had to be there” kind of stories. You know, the ones that are side splitting funny, if you were there, and when trying to re-tell the tale, they just aren’t that funny and leave the room in this awkward, dull haze of silence. A definite “DOH!” moment.

So to give you the short version. While on a camping trip in the deep, dark scary woods of Montana, several friends are sitting around a campfire (so cliche-I KNOW!) telling stories, pocking fun, and imbibing in a little recreational adult therapy. BEER! I think there might have been some dirty Martini’s mixed in with that to, because it’s not really camping if you can’t smuggle a shaker, some ice, and a bottle of vodka into your cooler, along with a jar of olives. High five!!!

The topic, as they sometimes do, turns a bit personal and the subject of a fellow friends divorced wife comes up. Now, it’s all in good fun, but apparently she wasn’t the most “loyal”of wives, and several people in town were well aware of her extra-curricular talents. None of the fine upstanding gentleman in company that night, of course. I guess the stress must have been to much for T.J because out of no where he up and yells….”BOX!” “BOX!” “BOX!”

Stunned silence ensues. Literally. It’s not like you can really come back with anything after that. You just sit there, numb, wondering what in the heck he put in his beer, and if the shrimp and pasta you all ate prior to the nightly campfire ritual was really that fresh.

After about 2 minutes of silence, he whispers something about never wanting to see that B#%&*!, and W#&%@!, and a few others and couldn’t we all just shut the BOXING BOX up! And really, I’m still not sure why he didn’t just cuss, instead of saying BOXING BOX, since he’d already thrown a few choice words out prior to the BOXING BOX outburst. That’s the odd part. But okay. We’re going with it.

Now see…don’t you wish you were there…and I can feel that awkward, dull haze of silence creeping in! “DOH!”

Saying “DOH!” just makes me want to reach for a Duff Beer!

Courtesy of youaremykilikiller

I’ve been debating with myself for the better part of a week which design I should start the “Story Behind the Design…” Series with. In an earlier post I gave a brief history on UBetcha Apparel and mentioned I’d write about each individual design, one at a time. Here’s the first installment.

It’s been a difficult task to choose one, mainly because as I think on each design, it brings up old memories and stories. Essentially that’s the purpose or thought behind each design. I want someone to look at one of the designs, and have one of those old memories come springing forward and for a moment, you get lost. That’s what telling stories does for each of us, in one way or another.

With this being said, I’m going to start with the “Cowboys Don’t Linedance, Buckaroos Won’t Even Watch!” Men’s T-Shirt. I’ve revamped this item. Initially there was an image that went along with it, but I’ve taken that out and went for only the words. I felt this was a more direct approach to a very serious topic.

When I first started dating my ex, back in 2001, he was working for a cutting horse trainer in the Bitterroot Valley near Corvallis Montana. Now, if any of you have been to the Bitterroot Valley you’ll know that there’s a pretty good buckaroo following in that area. And, if you are slightly aware of the difference between a cowboy and a buckaroo, you’ll get the underlying meaning of this design. If not, it’s still pretty easy to understand the staunchness of a buckaroo. Not to say that they don’t have a good laugh, but there’s just some things you don’t do…Linedancing is one of them.

I spent quite a bit of time in the Bitterroot Valley that first summer we were dating. One night, a bunch of us went out to the Plumb Loco bar in Stevensville. Upon stepping foot in the bar, the ex turns around and walks back out. “wwwhhhhooooooBetcha! RT this for your chance to win with http://inaminiskirt.com. @UBetcha_Apparel #trickortweet” I take a peek inside and notice they are line dancing and immediately understand why he’s leaving. Was pretty funny to see a group of buckaroos high tail it outta there. The whole time I’m watching this and hearing “Cowboys Don’t Linedance and Buckaroo’s won’t even watch!” They were pretty emphatic about it. Every time I think about that, it brings to mind that memory and I can see the disgust on their faces. Cracks me up!

July 1st you will be able to purchase both of these items from www.oubetcha.com.

Laton Alton Huffman

Evening all!

I was talking with a friend of mine today who mentioned the name L.A. Huffman. Not knowing who this was, I did a little research. Turns out, he was a photographer from eastern Montana during 1879 – 1931. Laton Alton Huffman arrived in Miles City, Montana Territory, December of 1879. He  had come to seek the recently vacated position of post photographer at nearby Fort Keogh where he was appointed post photographer, an unpaid position that provided a dirt floor log studio and an opportunity to make and sell photographs. He was 25.

There is quite a bit of information about L.A. Huffman located at a website dedicated to him. L.A. Huffman website. Additionally I found a website with several of his photos. They are wonderful. Probably some of the best western photos I have seen in a long time. Miles City Mueseum -  Gallery.

These are a few of his photos I’ve found.

If anyone has any other information or knows where I can learn a little more about him I’d sure appreciate any information. I will likely be taking a trip to Miles City this Summer to see what I can dig up. EXCITING!