The Quasi Hippie: Fire in the hills

This is the first time I have had pictures taken of me for a long time. It's interesting to me, that even when I was almost 500 pounds, I wasn't aware of how "big" I was until I saw myself in pictures. 200 pounds later, I feel better, can fit into smaller clothes and deal with a lot of skin, but I guess I'm still over 200 pounds and have a way to go before I git my goal. Again, I look at these pictures and am surprised at how different I look from what I saw in the mirror that morning. Still, I refuse to photoshop anything. When I do hit goal, I want to see every skin flap, every stretch mark and every fat roll. Hopefully these pictures will keep me on track later on and be a reminder as to how close to dying I really was.

So, that being said,
We had a blast at Fire in the hills. I was always trying to be the indifferent punk as a youngster, shunning everything that was remotely uncool, like cowboys and country music. As I've gotten older, I actually have a little country in my music list and daggone it. This weekend I earned my cowboy name "Barefoot Dolly." I had so much fun dressing in Victorian clothes and participating in the dutch oven cook off, shooting guns, banquet and just hanging out with some really awesome, nice and--hey, they dress up in their spare time and shoot guns---dare I say, quirky people.

Without furter ado, pictures :

The cow-folk milling about the western town/shooting area.

My nieces are all sharp shooters and were in the competitions this weekend.

From left to right: Leslie (Lucky Leslie), Shanon (Iron Butterfly), and Lauren (Wild Annie O.).

Everyone gathered for how-not-to-lose-an-eye before shooting begins.

Me, In jail.

I had to laugh. My mother and I were the only Obama supporters in the whole area. The NRA guy set up his hate signs right next to the Hippie Liberals.