MemoryLaine | Manicures are a curse for ranch girls...

Manicures are a curse for ranch girls...

July 06, 2016  •  Leave a Comment

  "And just like that; there goes my fresh manicure..." 

Good morning friends, it's been awhile since I've had a chance to sit down at a computer. It seems life has been really busy! So speaking of busy, I know some of you ladies will understand this blog, and maybe it's not just me that's been cursed? 

I've decided that Ranch Girls are a beautiful majestic creature! They're the Unicorns of today's society. These kind of women can work as hard as a man, but can do so with such class and grace it almost seems magical. Now, with that being said, I have a small confession...

I like to feel like a woman. I enjoy hot showers after a long day, and getting dolled up on a Saturday night. I also enjoy getting my nails done. It's true. I can tie a slipknot, or fancy braid a mane and tail, but I can't for the life of me paint my darn fingernails without it looking like a toddler got a hold of a spray can on my hands. So for the sake of society, I have to pay someone to paint my nails. 

It just seems I've been cursed...

​It never fails that the moment I leave the nail salon it opens up the flood gates for shear disaster on the home front! 


Just last week, I left the nail salon, and someone had ran through the 5 strand barb wire fence taking out six T-Posts, and scattering horses along the old highway. 

Fresh Manicure= Fixing Fence, and catching snorty horses. There goes that manicure.


This week I thought to myself, I'll book my appointment early on in the week in hopes that it would last a few extra days. Boy was I dead wrong. 


Horse owners know that it's always unpredictable. The disaster always waits for the worst timing! In my case the disasters always wait until I get home from the nail salon. 


So here I am driving home, radio up, and windows down looking at my perfectly painted nails in a blush pink color, and as I pulled into the driveway I saw a horse limping towards the barn...


I found myself moments later with my fresh painted nails elbow deep into a bucket of epsom salt. It seems nail salon day is a great time to tell me that you have an abscess.


The moral of the story is Ranch girls have to try 100 times harder to look glamorous, and most of the times we run around looking like a hot mess, or homeless, but we sure can fix fence, doctor horses, and catch snorty broncs when they decide to bust free. 


I am cursed with the " I can never have nice nails while I own horses" curse 










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