Cowboys, Cowboys and More Cowboys!

I enjoy books from many different genres and eras, but must admit, cowboy heroes are my favorite. It might be because I grew up watching westerns on TV (with a house full of brothers, I didn’t get control of the TV very often—not that I would have changed the channel). Just like many other girls my first boyfriend was Little Joe Cartwright—he just never knew it.

To me, a cowboy isn’t just a man wearing boots and a Stetson. It’s his way of life, and he’s a breed all his own.

Here’s a list of a few traits cowboys are portray:

They respect women. Throwing their coats over mud puddles and opening doors for a lady is embedded in them. Cursing in front of women is a no-no, too.

Faith, in God, the land, animals, and other people runs deep. They expect other to respect that, too.

Humility runs strong in cowboys. The limelight isn’t for them.

They are spendthrifts, until it comes to their horse and gear. Conservative, too, and not just with money. This includes words, deeds, beliefs, and politics,

Protectiveness runs strong in them—over their loved ones, animals, and the land. Don’t mess with a cowboy because he will fight to the death.

Music. Aw, yes, a cowboy loves his music. To play it, to dance to it, to sing. There’s always a song in a cowboy’s heart.

Speaking of his heart—he wears it on his sleeves, although he’d never admit it. His heart is often as well used as his hands, full of scars and covered with calluses, but when he gives it away, it’s for a lifetime.

The strong silent type. Yep, that’s a cowboy. John Wayne meant it when he said, “Talk low, talk slow, and don’t say much.” Prying words out of them can be impossible. They’d rather communicate through actions. A cowboy doesn’t throw words around, especially ones he doesn’t mean.

Critters—they have to have more than one. Horses are a must, but so are dogs. They like other animals, too, but expect each one to have a purpose.

Cowboys are simple men, down to earth, and utterly loveable—when they want to be. A heroine, lucky enough to have a cowboy fall in love with her, needs to understand these things. If she tries to change him, she’s changing who he is, and they’ll both be miserable.

If you love cowboys as much as I do, you are in luck because Harlequin is having a great sale on books with cowboy heroes! For the month of July the following titles are on sale for just 99¢!

• The Rustler by Linda Lael Miller
• Mercy by B.J. Daniels
• Riding High by Vicki Lewis Thompson
• The Wrong Cowboy by Lauri Robinson
• The Rebel Cowboy’s Quadruplets by Tina Leonard
• Runaway Lone Star Bride by Cathy Gillen Thacker
• No Accounting for Cowboys by Leah Braemel
• Consent to the Cowboy by Abby Wood
• Stranded with the Rancher by Janice Maynard
• A Royal Fortune by Judy Duarte

ENJOY!

Story Idea by Lauri Robinson

www.laurirobinson.blogspot.com

This post isn’t all about cowboys or the west. I hope no one minds. 

My son received a genealogy software program for Christmas last year and we all enjoyed the tidbits of information he found while researching our family heritage. Some of it was new, other bits we’d heard about from other relatives over the years. The most significant probably being my 8 times great-grandmother was imprisoned in 1692 for witchcraft in Salem.

Her name was Elizabeth Austin Dicer and she was married to William Dicer. Her trial records have not survived according to the sites I’ve found, and she lived in Gloucester, not Salem. However, the women accused in Gloucester were divided between the Salem jail and the Ipswich jail. She was part of a group of women whose families petitioned for them to be released from jail in November 1692 because the conditions were so horrible. They promised to return in June. It appears none of the women were made to return because around that time is when the wife of Gov. Phipps was accused and the entire fiasco was called to a halt. 

Her son-in-law is who petitioned Elizabeth’s release. His name was Richard Tarr and was married to Elizabeth’s daughter also named Elizabeth. My paternal grandmother’s maiden name was Tarr and her line of grandfathers leads directly to Richard. From what I’ve discovered Elizabeth Dicer may have been a bit of a crotchety person who accused others of witchcraft prior to her arrest. 

As we now know, the entire fiasco was a tragedy that could have been avoided with a bit of education, but times were different back then—not so long before then they’d believed the world was flat. 

Last month while attending the RWA conference in San Antonio I had lunch with my wonderful Harlequin editor. She’s is from London and it was our first in person meeting, which was a joy. During our discussion, she asked if there was another era I’d like to explore. (My series of books set in the roaring twenties will be released in 2015.)

I told her about Elizabeth Dicer and a plot for a romance story ‘lightly based’ on her plight that had been tumbling around inside my head. She said to write up a synopsis and send it in. I did that last week, so now I wait to see what the rest of the historical team thinks. Writing in a somewhat uncommon era has its benefits and downfalls. It can be looked upon as something new and unique, but readers may not want to embrace reading stories in a time period different from what they’ve come to know and love. I’m guilty of that myself at times.

I have no idea if Harlequin will give me the go ahead on my story or not, until then I will focus on a couple other works in progress where the heroes are cowboys. Such as my next release (November 1^st) which is appropriately titled, The Wrong Cowboy.

One mail-order bride in need of rescue! 

All the rigorous training in the world could not have prepared nursemaid Marie Hall for trailing the wilds of Dakota with six orphans. Especially when her ingenious plan—to pose as the mail-order bride of the children's next of kin—leads Marie to the wrong cowboy! 

Proud and stubborn, Stafford Burleson is everything Marie's been taught to avoid. But with her fate and that of the children in his capable hands, Marie soon feels there's something incredibly right about this rugged rancher and his brooding charm…. 

Thanksgiving Blessings

Hello, Lauri Robinson here, a new Sweethhearts of the West member. I write and read, and read, and read, historical westerns. That’s not to say I don’t read other genres, but put a pair of cowboy boots on the hero and I’m captured, lock, stock, and barrel until the last page even if it means I don’t shut off the light until the wee hours of the morning. 

This is me—the snow princess at my granddaughter’s princess birthday party last year. Dressing up was NOT optional, and I believe this moment was captured as the punch bowl teetered and well,that's another story.

I write for Harlequin, Mills and Boon and The Wild Rose Press, and will have five books released in 2012 starting in January, but I’ll tell you more about them in another blog. Today it’s about Thanksgiving. 

As many of us were taught, the first Thanksgiving took place in the fall 1621. It was a three day feast of thanks hosted by the Pilgrims and a local tribe of Wampanoag. Intermittent days of thanks continued for the next hundred and fifty years, often celebrating an event, good harvest, or end of a time period, such as a drought or battle.

In 1777, George Washington declared the last Thursday in November as a ‘national day of public thanksgiving and prayer’ which all thirteen colonies celebrated, particularly giving thanks for the new constitution of the newly formed nation. The next national day was declared in 1789, by then President George Washington. However, it still didn’t become a ‘yearly’ celebration, until 1863.

For over 40 years, Sara Josepha Hale, the author of Mary had a Little Lamb, advocated for an annual day of Thanksgiving, and during the Civil War while looking for a way to bring the nation together, President Abraham Lincoln consulted with Ms. Hale prior to issuing the Thanksgiving Proclamation that declared the last Thursday of November (based on Washington’s date) as a national holiday.

75 years later, in 1939 retailers begged President Franklin D. Roosevelt to change Thanksgiving to the second to the last Thursday of the month, therefore giving people more shopping days before Christmas. He did so, but the confusion didn’t settle well with the county. Calendars were off, schools vacations had to be rescheduled, and yes, even football games reorganized. Many believed the reason of the date change was not a fitting cause and controversy split the nation. 23 states agreed to change the date, and 23 states refused. Colorado and Texas chose to celebrate both days. Even though businesses reported no real direct change in shopping, the two Thanksgivings (with states choosing which to observe) continued until 1941 when congress passed a law declaring Thanksgiving as a national holiday that would occur on the fourth Thursday of November every year.

So, there you have it. 

History and controversy aside, for me, Thanksgiving is all about family. We lost a very integral part of our family when my mother passed away in June, and Thanksgiving without her and her coleslaw, sweet potatoes, beet pickles and pumpkin pies is going to be bittersweet. Happiness will abound as we gather together for it always does, and sadness will enter in as we miss those we’ve lost while reminiscing of past Thanksgivings as we always do.  (This is hubby and me, my mother, our three sons, their wives and children (absent one sleeping baby and two step grandsons).

Thankfulness for all the blessing we continually receive will also be abundant as we celebrate the day. If I live to be a hundred, nothing will ever replace the sweetness of the word “Grandma!” I am thankful for so much, every day of my life—for living in a wonderful country, for freedom, for my right to worship God, for all the obvious and not to be taken lightly things which include my family, home, community, friends, vocation, my publishers and their belief in me, and especially the people who read and find delight in my books. Thanks for sharing this wonderful life with me.

My Thanksgiving wish is that each and every one of you has a blessed and beautiful holiday.

THE PERFECT FOOTWEAR - THE COWBOY BOOT

By Guest, Lauri Robinson

Hello Sweethearts, and thank you for inviting me over for a visit today! I am so honored. While stacking wood in the woodshed yesterday, I was wondering what I should write about for my guest post, and, well, low and behold, the answer came when I returned to the house and took off my boots.

Fall brings changes, one of those, for me anyway, is to put away the capris, shorts, and sandals and pull out the jeans, sweatshirts, and my Double-H Ropers. I love these boots. Then again, besides being sturdy, comfortable, and versatile, (I’ve been known to shine them up and wear them to weddings and christenings) I believe cowboy boots are the most romantic footwear every created—for both men and women—and have always loved them.



Lauri in her red and white boots with
brother Jeff and unidentified cat

 I was only three in this picture, (that’s my younger brother beside me) yet I remember the boots I have on as clearly as yesterday. They were red and white, and though I don’t remember it, my mother claimed I’d have slept in them if she’d have let me.



Lace-up Roper

 My lace-up Ropers would not have been considered a ‘cowboy boot’ by "Big Daddy Joe" Justin, or his eldest daughter Enid who carried on the family business. The ‘Ropers’ didn’t come about until the mid 20^th century, namely for rodeo riders.

The original cowboy boot was perfected, and made famous, because of the protection they provided. Every part had a purpose. A slip-on boot with a narrow, rounded toe (the extremely pointed toe became ‘fashionable’ in the 1940’s) allowed a cowboy to slip the footwear off quickly if he was unseated and a boot became hung up in the stirrup. The underslung heel was designed to ‘lock’ the foot in the stirrup, minimizing the chances of the foot sliding all the way through and unseating the rider while on rough terrain and/or riding an unpredictable horse, and the soles were thick and made to last. Another form of protection or prevention is the tall and wide upper shaft. This warded off water while crossing rivers, brush and thorns, and snakes—they’d get a mouth full of leather instead of the cowboy’s leg. For any of you who’ve heard the old story about a rattlesnake fang embedded in a boot that killed two or three generations of men, it’s a myth—probably one of the oldest ‘urban legends’. It was first mentioned in a book printed in 1782.

It’s been said that Genghis Khan wore boots similar to the cowboy boot, and a calf-length boot with a low heel was named after the Duke of Wellington in the early 1800’s. These "Wellingtons" were preferred by soldiers in the Civil War, and the simple construction made them easy to mass produce. The ‘boys’ took their boots with them when the war ended, and discovered the boots to be perfect for ranching and cattle drives. Boot makers in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas soon perfected the style, making them taller and the heel deeper, and hence—The Cowboy Boot was born. Original boot makers still have highly guarded trade secrets about the actual construction of their boots, and it was Annie Justin, "Big Daddy Joe’s" wife that created a way for cowboys to measure their own feet and receive a perfectly fitted pair of ‘Justins’ in the mail.

Cowboy boots remained a trusted work boot, but also became stylish fashion when Hollywood jazzed them up. Along with Cowboy Heroes came their hand tooled, embossed, silver-tipped and rhinestone-studded footwear. An early American Cowboy would probably drop dead at the sight of some of today’s boots made from exotic skins—shark, stingray, alligator, ostrich, snake, etc.—and at the price.



Son Daniel, Lauri, and
granddaughter Karlee

 This summer my husband and I traveled a circle of states from Minnesota to Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Wyoming, South Dakota and back home to Minnesota. It was a fabulous trip and we stopped and visited several museums. Our oldest son and his family joined us for part of the trip and our step-grandson bought a cowboy hat in Telluride, Colorado. In one store, a pair of boots caught the attention of my daughter-in-law and I, and all we could do was laugh at the price. Four digits, (not including cents) and, per the clerk, that was a ‘reasonably’ priced pair. (The covered wagon in the picture was the ‘lawn art’ at our hotel in Cortez, and that me with grandson and granddaughter.)

During the trip, someone asked the meaning of old boots on top of fence posts. We passed them by the dozens in every state, but they’ve also been in cartoons and movies, yet none of us knew why. At the hotel that night I started searching for the answer.

Well…
The top five answers I found include:

1. To signal the family/farmer/rancher was home. (Really? And he walked back to his house barefoot.)
2. Initially created for a picture/photo op. (There are plenty of pictures of them.)
3. To protect the wood of the fence post from rotting. (What about the metal and sandstone posts?)
4. The smell of ‘human’ on the boots keeps coyotes away. (No boot that old still has a scent.)
5. A sign of respect that the rancher/farmer had passed away. (So a mile of boots means?)

Since then I’ve asked some cowboy friends, and their answers have been relatively the same: "What else are you gonna do with old boots?"

Needless to say, I still don’t know. If any of you do, I’d love to hear it!

Thanks again, Sweethearts, for inviting me over! My latest release, "For a Sister’s Love" is a book I co-wrote with fellow ‘sweetheart’ Paty Jager. She and I would love to give away a copy of this book. A name will be randomly selected from all those who leave a comment on this post between now and Halloween. Please be sure to leave an email address!



Comment to enter a giveaway!

 In 2012, I’ll have four books released from Harlequin and one from The Wild Rose Press. The only dates I know right now are January 1^st and February 1^st for a duet of Undones (titles still to be determined). Other dates and titles will be posted on my blog, www.laurirobinson.blogspot.com as soon as I learn of them.