Well, for those of you that I haven’t called while screaming hysterically or who haven’t seen my facebook update, I might as well tell you: I am going to the Pioneer Woman’s house this weekend. In fact, I will shortly be on my way to the airport, to a plane that will whisk me away to a magical place in Middle-of-Nowhere, Oklahoma. A magical place of cooking, chaps, cows, and no traffic noises.
The Pioneer Woman had a holiday baking weekend giveaway, inviting 4 lucky gals to her house to be fed, drink coffee, feed the cows, learn about baking, and sleep in.
Prior to this I had never won any lottery-style thingamaging in my life . . . but I had a little itch when I entered, and even thought to myself, “man, if I win I have to make sure I can make it back by Sunday night” (for that gig at the Red Line Tap). Then I told myself “This is ridiculous. Don’t even worry about that–it’s not like you’re going to get picked! Not with those crazy odds! Heck, half of the female population in America is entering this giveaway!”
But the itch persisted.
I was comment #16,128, and I was picked. From about 40,000 entries. With only 4 winners, that was a 0.01% chance. If you’re having trouble even believing the words that I’m saying to you (I’m having trouble believing them myself), you can check out my name emblazoned for the world to see on her “holiday baking weekend winners” post.
I found out on Friday November 5th, and my first reaction was honestly to start laughing hysterically. Thankfully my boss wasn’t in the office to witness the insanity. I laughed for about 15 minutes, on and off, with tears in my eyes. I also screamed multiple times. I had to verbally instruct my own self to calm down. Then I called my sister, called my Mom, and texted my other sister (sleeping soundly in Alaska).
Ree allows everyone to bring a guest, so I’m taking my Mom with me, since Heidi will be too pregnant to fly in from Alaska, and Erica’s husband-man gets deployed that same month . . . for a year. Incidentally, this is why we’re voting for the P-Dub to do an army wives weekend. So Erica and Heidi can go.
Leading up to this weekend, I’ve been having the craziest dreams. In one of them, Ree had a heavy Eastern European accent and a smoker’s voice, and told us she was going to die of cancer by age 49. I immediately started crying, and realized that her blog would now go from a happy, cheerful place, to the diary of a dying woman.
In another dream, I kept trying to take pictures of the sunset on the ranch, but my camera’s memory card was malfunctioning and didn’t save any of my amazing photographs.
In yet another, when we arrived at the guest lodgings, there were cats, mice, and other animals everywhere, and there was a pile of cat poo in the shower. Oh, and a dead mouse had been skinned and gutted by some cowboy in the middle of the carpet. Thankfully in this dream I had the sense to bring my Mom and Erica and Heidi, and they promptly cleaned it all up for me.
I don’t want to sound like a crazy obsessed fan, but I love this woman. I love her humor, I’ve cooked (and loved) over 30 of her recipes (seriously, I’ll make you a list some day), I learned the rudiments of photography and Photoshop from her, and I’ve admired her site for over a year. In fact, it was her blog that taught me what a blog even was!
At this point, baking isn’t my forte. But after this holiday baking weekend, and after absorbing the magical skills which will undoubtedly be in the air, I should be set.
Just look at the sinfully delightful things she cooks up. I dare you not to salivate.
The cry that has been ringing in the back of my mind for weeks now betrays the fact that I am a girl, through and through:
But . . . I don’t have anything to weeeeeeeeaaaar!
I will be blogging all about the experience, make no mistake.
*both photos courtesy of thepioneerwoman.com