FOR JANELL

If you could be a cowgirl(boy), would you live in Clovis, New Mexico? Maybe. I keep thinking if we have the opportunity (always an opportunity in the line of duty) to move west of Albuquerque by 500 miles, then I will explore my secret desire to be a cowgirl and open a dude ranch … for wayward spouses.

In order to understand this line of thought, though, you must first understand the psyche of the frequently moving military spouse. We spend hours/days/months pondering our next move and all its possibilities. We cruise real estate sites and now our latest craze — Military By Owner (MBO) — imagining what it would be like to live there, wherever THERE might be. We quickly dispose of all the ills of our current residence by replacing it virtually with the domicile to come. There is always an opportunity to seek out a kitchen with a gas stove, or at least a cooker from this century; a house with four bedrooms instead of three; a mud room AND a garage … really the possibilities (again) are endless. WE are not yet bound by the reality of what our future residence offers. We are flying on the wings of our fancy. In our minds we see only good or better than now. We imagine space and hardwood floors. Walk-in closets and green green grass. (oh dear, I only see brown in Clovis. No matter! It’s the desert skies I seek!) We cruise the help wanted ads online, wondering about our next possible career. Let me see …. I’ve always wanted to be a ….. “COWGIRL!” Optimism at this stage of the game is our oracle. There is really no need at this time to corral our imaginations. That will surely come soon enough. No — for now, we are drunk on the possibility of things to come.

As I understand it, Cannon AFB/Clovis is exactly three hours from Lubbock in one direction (Southeast) and Amarillo (Northeast) in the other. These are the largest metro areas within proximity; proximity is a relevant term when you live in the wild wild west. Plot them on the map and you get a triangle with Clovis at the crux. If you GOOGLE EARTH Cannon, you can get a clear line of sight on the Wal-Mart. And the brown. I understand from my friends who live there, who’ve sent me pictures as evidence, the tumbleweeds roll onward until they are heralding through your lawn higher than one’s house. But to me, this is all matter-of-fact. To me — I feel the fit of fine cowboy boots and smell the scent of well-oiled leather. I can hear the clippity-clop of horses on the battened down earth and the whinnie of my horse calling for my attentions. I envision trail rides with the kids, saddlebags bulging with our lunch, which we’ll eat next to a cool stream and a cactus.

Understand, this post is not meant to pick on Clovis. It’s not. It’s just an example (a very real one in my case) of the next path we may take along our Air Force adventure. And this particular path really does merge with my secret (or not-so-secret) cowgirl cravings . I’ve always wanted to swagger through a set of swing doors…