Meeting Larry Correia

By J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| July 12, 2019

19 COMMENTS

Last week, Terry @kaladin and I met up in Layton, UT with Randy Weivoda @randyweivoda (and his lovely wife, Sarah), Katie Koppelman @katiekoppelman, OmegaPaladin @omegapaladin, and Rupert err.. Ruder err.. Rooster err.. Rudert @jasonrudert.

Most of us were attending SpikeCon, which was a collection of several different nerd conventions all rolled into one delightful convention. There were a variety of panels, an art show, a cosplay show, book signings from several of your favorite authors, and my favorite: beer. The convention was located at the Davis Conference Center inside the Hilton Garden Inn. There were several items up for a charity auction, both silent and not-so-silent, including books, art, and a few other things, such as a chance to play a tabletop RPG with none other than Larry Correia.

The RPG had originally been listed under the silent auction, but as it was the top 6 bids who got in, they ended up redoing the auction with a not-so-silent one. Terry and I managed to score two spots for us. We felt extra good about the donation because the proceeds went to Big Cat Rescue out of Tampa, FL. https://bigcatrescue.org/

I was super nervous about meeting one of my all-time favorite authors. Nothing a couple beers couldn’t handle though!

The RPG was called Gritty Cop RPG, and Larry is currently alpha testing it before he releases it into the wild. If you’re familiar with tabletop pen & paper games, it’s a very simplified character creation that I thought was similar to a few other games I’ve tried, but a considerably more entertaining process, and very well done. We were able to get the game explained to us and have our characters created well within an hour. We got such perks as “Cut the Red Wire”, which gave +1 to Explosives, “Brute Squad”, which gave +1 to Hand to Hand, and “Too Old for This Sh-t”, which I do not remember what it gave. Terry took the last perk and every time I would be impulsive, he would throw his hands up and yell “I’m too old for this sh-t!” in his most exasperated tone. This happened frequently. There were also disadvantages that you could take one of in order to gain an additional perk. Terry took “Dirty Laundry”, which Larry promised would come up later in the game, and I took “Good Is Not Nice” which gave -1 to my public relations.

Game play was mostly D6, but the stress level mechanic required a D20, and decisions or counts got a D8. Very easy to pick up for people who aren’t familiar with tabletop games, and I imagine a great way to break someone into them.

Larry’s daughter, Hinkley, was there to hang out with us and had previously played the game. I was tickled to meet her as she’s a witty, clever, fellow gamer chick. She related stories to us about their previous gaming sessions. She’s an up-and-coming writer herself, and I have no doubt that anyone who is into more nerdy literary adventures will be seeing her name soon if they haven’t already done so.

Our party of six was comprised of Rock Steele (a Gray Man who blends into his surroundings and is able to infiltrate any group with ease), Sherman Washington (a pretty boy from a wealthy family with the most punchable face you’ve ever witnessed), Lizzie Hammer (a bat-out-of-hell greenie driver who vomits at the sight of dead bodies), Sgt Ted Roberts (a grizzled older officer with nerves of steel and a take no BS attitude [also a real life officer]), my partner Jack McConnell (an old guy with dirty laundry in his past who is too old for this sh-t), and me, J.D. “Grumps” Grumpowski (a crabby, mentally unstable forensic specialist with an itchy trigger finger and a shotgun). We had a couple of NPCs, played lovingly by Larry: Lt. Winters (our super awesome and dependable superior), Hamish “Fox” McCloud (our intern who would never bring beer to poor old Grumps), and several crooked cops.

Our adventure began with a call at 2AM for a multiple homicide at a greasy diner called the NightOwl. Five bodies lay in the bathroom, riddled with shotgun holes, with a blood trail leading to one of the bodies: a retired officer. Because he was “one of ours”, we set off to solve the mystery of his murder, finding a corrupt police force and following all the tropes of a classic gritty cop movie along the way.

My first action was to pick a fight with a suspect’s mother, gaining us valuable information about the location of the suspect and his buddies. We showed up to a gun fight, lost a CI to some bad guys, raided an evidence room, almost screwed up our PR with the media, scared a victim’s mother half to death in a squad car, infiltrated a crime ring, found a friendly judge who gave us fill-in-the-blank warrants, attended a fancy party, and murdered an entire platoon of bad guys during a set-up. My last action was to give a cheesy one-liner before shooting an RPG into two Suburbans surrounded by bad guys, killing all but one, who was willing to turn over state’s evidence. We managed to get two of the ringleaders tossed into prison, the third was killed right before I blew up the SUVs.

Terry and I made it back to our hotel room around 2 AM, exhausted and excited. This was the most fun tabletop experience I’ve ever had and I will most certainly be purchasing this game when Larry releases it. I can’t recommend this game enough! It was also a great memory for Terry and I to build together and we’ll be talking about this for years to come!

A Tribute to Nanny Peggy’s Wisdom

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| April 2, 2018

11 COMMENTS

I count my grandmother among my best friends, and for her 83rd birthday (Sunday), I made a semi*-secret trip to Arkansas to surprise her. She hadn’t been looking forward to turning another year older, and since my brother also lives at least a two-day drive away, thought that her only grandchildren present would be my sister and my niece. *Semi-, because she caught me in MSP on the phone. I generally call her every morning on my way to work and I had made the mistake of believing an airport quiet area was truly quiet.

So I called her at my regular time on Friday morning and when she heard the announcement in the background, she knew something was up.

I’ve always thought she missed her calling as a detective. She definitely has the mind for it; like a steel trap. After a barrage of questions, many of which were concern that I was in some kind of trouble, I admitted that I had been attempting to surprise her for her birthday. This was met with a “Well you little boogerbutt! I mighta had a heart attack if you’d shown up at my door!” in a tone of pure delight.

Nanny has been a constant throughout my entire life. She is a sweet person, with an underlying current of hot iron and a temper like a freight train. Throughout the family, the common knowledge is: “Don’t piss off Aunt Peg.” I’ve had her get mad at me exactly twice in my life and both times were that memorable. The first time was understandable, though I didn’t deserve her ire. The second time, I was lucky I got away without a well-deserved whipping.

Every morning that I talk to her, the phone call begins with a cheerful “Why, good morning, Julie!” and ends with a “Well, sugarfoot, I’m gonna get off here and let you get to work. You know I love ya!” Those phone calls are the highlight of my day, and I truly dread the day that they end.

Nanny never went to college and never finished high school. She got married to my grandfather at 16 and they worked themselves half to death to provide for the family they created. I consider her to be one of the smartest people I know, even smarter than me with my fancy-schmancy computer science degree.

Over the years, she’s cheerfully imparted her wisdom on everything from job hunting to gardening to quilting to furniture upholstery. She’s handy with re-doing furniture and making homemade canned goods. She taught me how to filet a catfish so clean it could be served in a restaurant, how to rig up a fishing pole, and how to rework a wood table. She showed me the best way to make white gravy and how to fancy-up a box cake mix.

She made sure I knew how to tell an antique from a fake and where all the best junkin’ places were in NEARK and SEMO. She taught me all the different flowers, how to make an apple pie, and how to effectively kill a snake with a garden hoe. [The key is to make sure your hoe is sharp enough to slice baloney!] She’s shown me how to exhibit the patience of saint (especially when you don’t have it naturally), even when dealing with someone who drives you nuts, and when it’s most effective to drop in a swear word to end an unpleasant conversation. She’s even given me advice on which trees to avoid planting in your yard and how best to shell pecans.

She’s a true-blue Republican, a happy Trump supporter, and she joined up with the NRA at the same time I did. She loves the fact that she can talk politics with me and get agreement, especially when some of her other close friends and family are Hillary-loving Democrats.

I make it a point to reserve at least one day with her every time I come back home to visit. We have a special little junk shop over in a town called Biggers-Reyno, run by Mr. Eddington. We go at least once just to see what new stuff he’s gotten in. He’s on a first-name basis with her, my mother, my sister, and myself. Thanks to her introducing us to that place, I’ve found a fair bit of furniture and what-not that I’ve packed home.

She used to do quite a few quilts and when she found out that I enjoyed quilting, she shared a box of 1930s newspaper clippings with me that she’d been saving up. I decided to make a sampler quilt with every color of the rainbow like she’d planned on doing originally. She told me she’s always loved colorful quilts and has given me a variety of ideas for quilts based on ones her mother had done.

Before I head back to Montana tomorrow, I’m going to get up and join her for breakfast. I’m so happy I got to be here for her birthday and I’m already looking forward to seeing her on my next trip home.

Summer in Montana

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| February 28, 2018

18 COMMENTS

My last post was about summer while I was growing up in Arkansas during which I made plenty of great memories. Now that I’ve been up here in Montana for several years, I’ve made quite a few Montana summer memories.

I moved to Montana in June of 2014. The day I left Arkansas, there was a heat index of 120 with 90-some-odd-percent humidity. I loaded up the U-Haul with the help of several friends, stuck the cat in his pet taxi, booted up an audiobook, and set off on my great trek across the country. I drove up to Sioux Falls, SD the first day and was delighted with the much cooler temperatures. I drove to Gillette, WY on the second day to stay with my handsome now-husband. (@kaladin) Then I finished the journey up to Bozeman on the third day. Terry had already picked us out an apartment on his last leave. Got the truck unloaded, and started to settle in for about a week before the new job started.

When I got to work, I was surprised that there was no air conditioning. The South is barely survivable without it. I’m not really sure how people did it back in the day. Turns out, most buildings up here do not have air conditioning, but every building has really good heat.

The new office was in a north-facing part of the building with a tree just outside and an open window. It was actually very pleasant. Everyone else kept complaining about how miserably hot it was. I felt confused as it was only 78 and it was considerably drier than I was used to, so it was actually pretty nice. The hottest part of that summer, it got to about 94 outside, and I was still wearing jeans with my flip-flops. I figured out quickly that I would need to buy summer clothes back in Arkansas because the women up here have a much more masculine summer fashion than I care for.

The first weekend in August every year is the Sweet Pea Festival, which is a showcase of the arts. Or rather, an event with live music and art galleries that you pay to get into so you can watch the musicians and purchase art. My first year, I got a free wristband from helping a colleague out with her part. I went with a couple of Terry’s friends, who I had claimed as my own. I got to learn what a “tater pig” is, though I wasn’t a huge fan. I ended up serving on the board of directors for this festival my third summer in town, but it was not an experience I care to repeat.

Sweet Pea also hosts a number of popular community events leading up to the actual festival. This includes Bite of Bozeman, which involves food trucks and restaurants setting up booths along Main Street, has live music from local bands and samples of all the delicious local food you can imagine.

There is another art festival that takes place the same weekend as Sweet Pea. It’s called the S.L.A.M. festival and consists of many local artists who were not invited/included to Sweet Pea. S.L.A.M. also has live music (by local artists) and is free to get into. I know a couple of the artists involved in S.L.A.M. now. I’ve also bought a few pieces of art from there, including a custom mug by one of Terry’s favorite artists.

One of the most delightful things to do during a Montana summer is to go drink some beers while you float down the river. Now, I will preface this by saying that Montana rivers are much colder than Arkansas rivers. In some of the Montana rivers, your flesh has to go a bit numb before you can enjoy yourself. The best way to achieve this: a couple cans of some Montana beer. Now floating down the river isn’t that much fun if you wait too late in the summer. We start getting forest fires and low river levels around the first of August. You want to go somewhere in late June to mid-July. We normally float down the Madison.

Terry had taken me to the floating “creek” in his hometown. I use air quotes on creek because it’s much more like an Arkansas river. It’s called Big Spring Creek, though the more rural Montanans say “crick” instead of “creek”. I dipped a toe in and it was like dipping a toe in a glass of ice water! He laughed at my squealing and teased me about pushing me into the water. Then he took me to another creek called Warm Spring Creek. Do not let that name fool you as it’s anything but warm! My in-laws had a swimming hole on that creek, and my mother-in-law loved to tease me because I thought the water was cold.

Montana is one of the most beautiful places on earth. I just love it here and I’m looking forward to many summers here in the future.

Image result for glacier national park — Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park

Wait… I’m doing this wrong…

Go away, we’re full! There’s nothing to see here, just a bunch of gray, smoky skies, volcanoes, vultures, and half burnt forest underneath 6 feet of snow!

Summer Memories

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| February 18, 2018

17 COMMENTS

When I was a kid, the local pool had specific blocks of time in which it was open to the public. A single quarter would get you into one of the two-hour sessions. Despite my extremely sunburn-prone skin, my sister and I often got our mother to let us go for both sessions. There was a 20- to 30-minute break between the two sessions in which we had plenty of time to run two blocks over to the little grocery store and grab some snacks, charging them to Mom’s account. We usually got a Yoo-Hoo and a Moon Pie apiece, snarfed them down as quickly as possible, then ran back to the pool to camp out in the much cooler ladies’ locker room while waiting for the second session to start.

My sister and I lived in the pool as much as possible during the summer. We especially got excited for family reunion time every other June. We got to have three full days in the pool with our distant cousins while the adults visited. Occasionally, I’d be so sunburnt halfway through Day Two that my mother and grandmother would ban me from the pool, so I’d stay indoors with the adults and play cards.

One of my favorite things about summer was going to my grandparent’s cabin over on Lake Norfork. My grandpa kept his boat out in the stall, just down the road from their cabin. The trip took about three hours one way from our house to the cabin, and we had certain landmarks that we’d look out for on the way:

the “secret” Hancock camping spot,
the confederate flag store in Imboden,
the Belgian waffle place in Hardy that we never passed at mealtime,
the town of Highland with the rebels that our band director eventually moved to,
the town of Salem where I used to think was the Salem where they burned witches,
the town of Ash Flat where the Walmart bathroom has a smell we named “crapples,”
the “A” fence,
the crappy laundromat,
the dog kennels, where I’m fairly certain the dogs were used in illegal dog fighting because they were incredibly aggressive,
the donkey house,
the giant A-frame cabin next to the little road we turned off on to get to the cabin
The Corner Booth restaurant in Hardy, AR that specializes in Belgian waffles. We kids eventually stopped there on our way back from the family reunion once. It’s filled with creepy dolls!

Finally, we rejoiced at the sight of the green fish sign that read “Young,” cheerfully greeting us at the end of our long journey.

I always claimed the bedroom on the front porch. Despite the heat outdoors, the bed side of the front porch had a shade tree just outside, so some open windows made it a perfect temperature at night. I also liked the fact that it was on the other side of the house from my parents, so I could sit up late, reading one of the many books my grandmother had stashed in the nightstand.

We went fishing a lot with my grandfather, though he didn’t take me for a long while after I lost several poles one summer. There were spots on the lake that you could see 20 feet down into the moss and habitats of the creatures living there. We would pack baloney sandwiches on white bread.

When we got older, my father would take us out on tubes. His greatest delight was trying to fling us off those things by crisscrossing through the waves he’d made.

My absolute favorite thing about the summer though: honeysuckle. You always know it’s the beginning of summer in Arkansas when you can smell the honeysuckle blooming as the sun sets.

Quote of the Day: Stress

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| February 6, 2018

28 COMMENTS

I have been under an increasing amount of stress and pressure at work for the past six months. I’ve never dealt with stress very well and this time has been no different. It’s not helped by the wonky blood sugar issues I’ve been experiencing or the latest round of flu that I feel coming on thanks to co-workers who couldn’t be bothered to stay away from the office when sick.

I’ve learned over the past week, however, that I need to realign my perspective of my ever-growing to-do list and the constant interruptions I get while working in the office. I need to change how I react to it. I’m normally very good at my reactions to bad stuff, but work-related stress is something I’ve never tackled before.

I need to care less.

I can no longer let my stress define me. I am not a victim of my bottomless pit of work stuff that needs to be done. I am not responsible for doing the work of three people because we’re short-staffed. I do not need to stay caught up. I do not need to take on extra projects. I will not continue taking my work home with me in the form of tears and health problems. I will find healthier ways to react to work stress.

Quote of the Day: Irritating Co-workers

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| January 25, 2018

118 COMMENTS

“It is really irritating to work with irritating people.” ― Joshua Ferris, Then We Came to the End

Yesterday, when I came into work, I saw a co-worker, who I haven’t gotten along with in the past, enter the building in front of me with ease, no key involved. After walking through the door, he turned around to stare out the window at me for a moment, then walked off. When I tried the door handle, it was locked. It was such a petty thing that if I even told anyone at work about it, no one would have believed me. I, fortunately, had my keys, so it ended up being an annoying extra 10 seconds to get the door open.

I’ve had my share of very annoying (and sometimes abusive) co-workers over the years.

The guy who told on everyone for everything, and acted like everyone was less intelligent than him, but couldn’t understand why no one wanted to be friends with him.
The guy who jerked my arm up behind my back because I accidentally messed up his bucky bead sculpture.
The guy who sat on the other side of the cubicle wall who would make snuffling and horking sounds, then give spoilers to TV shows to anyone who would listen.
The gal who came to work stoned every single day and couldn’t remember how to do any aspect of her job. After I wrote up documentation for training new people and providing a reference for people who couldn’t remember, she couldn’t ever remember how to access the documentation, or open it, or print it. Then she threatened to kick my ass for “treating [her] like [she was] stupid”.
The guy who took half a dozen unscheduled breaks, and blamed me for not stopping my phone call with a customer to remind him how to do the basic work we learned on day one of training.
The guy who screeched at me for making an innocuous change to a spreadsheet that I was in charge of without telling him, and again for me asking him why he didn’t report an issue with a hard drive to anyone.
The gal who spent company time talking to her Internet boyfriends over the phone, and trying to flirt with all the other ladies because she was bisexual and wanted everyone to know it. Who told our boss that I was being mean to her when I had simply asked her to do her job and stop making long-distance phone calls or harassing the rest of us. Which ended up in a conversation where I had to explain to my mid-70s boss what “bisexual” meant.
The guy who screamed at me for being a bigot, a sexist, and a racist because I didn’t vote for Hillary, who is apparently “from Arkansas” (she’s not).
The gal who spent all day either playing Facebook games, or yell-fighting on the phone with her abusive husband, who she would constantly either tell us the horrible things he did/said or would want us to give him a glowing recommendation for him to work with us because he was afraid she was cheating on him with one of the other work guys.
The guy who spent all day trying to get us to write little snippets of code for his development to the point that he’d have a bunch of unconnected code for a development that didn’t work, but he’d send over to QA anyway.
The Mother Gaia-worshiping colleague in another department who, upon finding my milk jug in the trash can, went on a two-hour rant-fest about the mysterious, horrible, disgusting, earth-hating recycle-phobe who would dare to throw a milk jug in the trash can. She cared about the environment so much that she drove her SUV the three blocks from her work-provided house to the office building every day, then used numerous pieces of paper to leave passive-aggressive notes about those evil wrong-doers around the office building.

I’ve had a job of some sort for the past 18 years. I’m sure I’ve been the annoying co-worker in at least some of my jobs, but I do try to be at least somewhat considerate.

What are some of your annoying co-worker horror stories?

An Open Letter to People Who Beat Dead Horses

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| January 17, 2018

80 COMMENTS

Dear people who beat dead horses,

Please. Stop.

It’s inhumane!

Now, far be it from me to defend horses. I think they’re total jerks and probably deserve to be beaten to death, but no creature deserves to be beaten after death.

That horse is clearly not moving so why do you insist on continuing to take a bat after it?

I don’t understand your passion in sending the horse to the afterlife without a bone left intact. It’s just not right. Please stop trying to re-kill it, it’s already dead! You’re like a vulture, but instead of eating the corpse, you just keep beating it with a bat. Do you enjoy the squishing noises that spring up from every thwack? Are you trying to kill the flies that keep landing on it? What is going on in your head?!

This horse is no more! It is an ex-horse!

Please, I’m begging you, just step away from the horse.

Quote of the Day: Weathering the Storm

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| January 15, 2018

9 COMMENTS

“When someone is going through a storm, your silent presence is more powerful than a million empty words.” ― Thema Davis

I went and got brunch with a girlfriend yesterday in Casper, WY.

Her mother passed away just before Christmas. I let her know at the time that if she needed to talk, or visit, or anything at all, that I was here for her. She had a number of things go wrong for her around the holidays, including a broken arm due to slipping on some ice. I didn’t know about any of it and I felt horrible that I hadn’t been present to give her whatever support I could offer.

Yesterday, she opened up about her mother and she told me she appreciated being able to talk about all this. I just listened. I have no idea what it’s like to lose a parent yet, but I figure that being able to talk to someone about them makes it easier to process the grief. Like me, she is an oilfield wife, so her husband isn’t always around. I hugged her (carefully!) and told her that I am just a phone call away if she needs anything.

I wish I could offer more than a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on to a friend who is having a rough time. I wish I could do anything to ease their burden or pain. I know from my own experience that going through a difficult time becomes much easier when you have someone you can confide in. So, I try to be that person for the people I care about. Sometimes a person just needs someone to listen and it’s an easy thing to be a silent confidante.

An Open Letter to Snow

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| January 8, 2018

32 COMMENTS

Dear Snow,

You know I love you. While you weren’t around as much when I was a kid, I still loved you even then. Now, when you’re around more than I ever dreamed of, I’m content. Every morning, when I wake up and see you covering the trees, and the houses, making this area look like a Christmas town, it fills me with joy. Even the terrible drivers, who suddenly forget how to drive as soon as you make an appearance, don’t phase me because you put me in such a cheerful mood. I love how you blanket the world. I love the silence you bring. I love that crunchy sound you make when I walk on you. I love when your flakes get stuck in my hair.

That is until I have to shovel you off my sidewalk and driveway.

Don’t get me wrong, Snow. I know that you can’t help where you fall. But is there any way we could work it out to where you fall all on my lawn instead of my sidewalks and driveway?

Please consider it and thanks in advance!

Love Always,

Stuffing vs. Dressing

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| December 28, 2017

80 COMMENTS

When I was growing up, one of the big staples of every Christmas and Thanksgiving feast involving turkey was a couple of giant pans filled with slightly-mushy baked cornbread dressing full of chicken or duck. I hated the stuff when I was younger, but it has grown on me considerably in recent years. I had known there was such a thing as stuffing, but that was always referred to as “what Northerners call dressing.”

In some cases, I suppose that would be true. Most of the “stuffing” recipes I find have you make the stuffing much like dressing, but use that to stuff the turkey, while dressing is only meant to be a side dish that you eat alongside the bird. For my in-laws, stuffing isn’t used for stuffing so much, but it is a stove-top concoction of chunks of bread with sage and eggs. It’s still very tasty, but very different from the dressing made by my family. On the other hand, I can find plenty of “dressing” recipes that look much like what my in-laws consider stuffing.

The term “dressing” first originated in the 1850s, when the Victorians decided to switch from the term “stuffing” as it was considered more crass. Southerners kept the term while the Northerners couldn’t be swayed.

Ultimately, the difference between stuffing and dressing depends upon the region you live in as stuffing and dressing can both be referred to as what you stuff the bird with and the casserole dish served alongside the bird.

This year, I introduced my in-laws to my family’s version of dressing, to go along with our introduction of deep-fried turkey. It was my first time making the dressing, so it was not perfect, but it was still pretty delicious!

Quote of the Day: Christmas Memories

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| December 24, 2017

13 COMMENTS

After a trip over some of the most sporty roads I’ve ever seen, we made it safely to my in-laws’ last night. This will be the second year that I get to make memories with my husband’s side of the family. The first Christmas I spent with them, I received the two best presents I’ve ever gotten: a legitimately white Christmas and my first time ever sledding.

When I was growing up, we normally got a light dusting of snow once or twice over the winter, but the most I ever saw on Christmas was about a quarter inch. We once got three-plus inches of snow. It was the only snowman I ever made. It was far too flat to go sledding anywhere in our neck off the woods and Arkansas shuts down at the mention of any amount of snow.

While we were still dating, Terry came down after a rig and we went grocery shopping. “Where’s all the bread and milk?” he asked. “It’s about to snow,” I replied. “It’s only supposed to snow a half inch though. That doesn’t explain where all the bread and milk has gone!” he exclaimed. I said, “Snow means it’s Winterpocalypse, so everyone prepares by grabbing bread and milk!” He started laughing.

This year our plan is to go sledding for a bit with the nephews. I still have a few presents to wrap and stocking stuffers to stuff, cornbread to make for my dressing, and dessert to prepare. This evening, we’ll head to a Christmas Cantata at Terry’s grandma’s church then eat a delicious meal with the extended family. I’ve got to cook a big pot of my family’s chicken and noodles for the occasion.

All in all, I’m looking forward to hanging out with my in-laws. I really got lucky because they are just as awesome as my husband. (@kaladin)

I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas and makes cherished memories of their own!

Quote of the Day: Friends

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| December 15, 2017

16 COMMENTS

“It’s the friends we meet along the way that help us appreciate the journey.” — Unknown

I just got back home from an extended weekend around the Seattle area to visit friends (and to finally get a break from work). Aside from the cousin I visited, all of the friends I met up with are relatively recent relationships I’ve made through my husband.

When you’re feeling burned out or stressed out, it’s difficult to notice, let alone appreciate, the small things in life. It’s hard to appreciate the journey without getting into a hurry. I know I need to slow down sometimes and just let things happen as they will. Fortunately, all the stress regarding work helped me crank out some comp time that I used to take a break from life.

I’m the kind of person who normally has everything planned out when I leave the house, though I’ve found over my years of going back home to visit, vacation seems more enjoyable when there isn’t an itinerary for every minute of every day. My original plans fell by the wayside and I took off towards Yakima with half a plan, deciding to just play my vacation by ear, with no set day to return. Two nights at Ryan’s, three nights at another friend’s, 1 night at another friend’s on the way back home. It was gloriously nomadic.

I did a fair bit of running around, both by myself and with at least 1 friend. I got to spend time getting to know my friends’ children. I also got to be stressed out by the insane traffic, get dirty looks and horn honks from people as I meandered my way around the city, going the wrong way up one-way streets, and failing at parking garages. I got to try soup dumplings, raise my blood sugar much higher than it needed to be, eat a delicious Hungarian feast (courtesy of @ryanm), and play some games. I got to visit a tea shop I helped through Kickstarter, and spend time with family I hadn’t seen in 15-plus years.

Prior to my trip, I was feeling a bit burned out on work and life, but I’m now feeling rejuvenated thanks to amazing friends.

Quote of the Day – The Last Minute

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| December 6, 2017

15 COMMENTS

“If it weren’t for the last minute, nothing would get done.” – Rita Mae Brown

For the past couple of months, I’ve either been working 10-12 hours every day, or I’ve been on vacation, or I’ve been working while on vacation. We just had a big software rollout, and I decided that I was going to come home, heat up some leftover pot roast, and spend the evening lounging about on the couch watching Longmire and snuggling the cat.

As I was getting ready to head upstairs for the night, I decided to check my Ricochet notifications and remembered that I had put off writing this post all day. So as I started to head upstairs to write it, I remembered that the hubs had asked me to check for packages every night as he’s been Christmas shopping online. I poked my head out to check and remembered that I still need to shovel snow on the front walk so our HOA doesn’t get testy. Now that I’m sitting here remembering that stuff, I’m also remembering about 20 other things I actually needed to do this evening, and now I must rush around getting everything done before I can go to bed.

I guess it’s a Monday after all, but now that it’s the last hour before I need to start getting ready for bed, I still have to: shovel the sidewalk, check the mail, clean out my crock pot so I can slow cook a chicken tomorrow, get the cat’s claws trimmed so he’ll stop attempting to shred my arm, finish the laundry, clean the bathroom, finish the dishes, pick up the living room, take a shower, pack my lunch, and finish unpacking my bag from my trip because I need to charge my FitBit.

One of these days I’ll get it together, but for now thank goodness for the last minute because I’m about to get some stuff done.

Quote of the Day: Black Friday

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| November 25, 2017

37 COMMENTS

“Into the breach, then. Against mobs of middle-aged moms and frightening harridans we shall prevail.” — Patricia Briggs

On Black Friday, instead of shopping, I spent the first half of the day playing with my cute toddler niece who calls me “Aunt Doodie.” For the second half of the day, I have planned fun stuff with several friends.

I went to a Black Friday sale once for my mom, several years ago. It was whatever year Game Cubes were the hot commodity in short supply, and Wal-Mart had a big sale. I had sat up all night, then left at 3:30 AM to drive an hour to a supercenter as our little hometown Wal-Mart wasn’t going to get any Game Cubes.

I was waiting to get into the supercenter just before 5 AM with everyone else. At 18, I was probably the youngest person there. I grabbed a cart and went in with a single mission: acquire Game Cube for my brother’s Christmas present.

When I found the display, there were 2 consoles left and an older lady was making a beeline for one of them, so I quickly snatched up the closest box and tossed it into my cart. I gave a little fist pump of victory and set off to grab some other items for my mom.

I had just made it to the next section of the store and started looking for an item on the shelf when a woman, approximately in her mid-40s, appeared. She started taking the Game Cube box out of my cart. I whipped around and slapped it out of her hands, then fixed her with a hard glare. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded. “You took that Game Cube from me!” she replied. “Like hell I did!” said I, “I grabbed that off the display fair and square!”

She continued standing near the front of my cart, glaring at me. Then an exchange of epic swearing proportions broke out. She threatened to beat me up if I didn’t give her the console, I swore right back at her, then took off, running my cart over her foot while racing towards the checkout. I’d get the rest of the stuff from hometown Wal-Mart.

I made it back home safely, told Mom I’d never do another Black Friday sale, and why. To this day, over a decade later, I have never been back to a single Black Friday sale and never will.

Southern Soul Food

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| November 14, 2017

40 COMMENTS

“All soul food is southern food, but not all southern food is soul food.” ― Cassandra Harrell, Soul Food Lovers’ Cookbook

As I’ve mentioned on here before, my family loves to cook. I’m about to head back down to Arkansas for Thanksgiving with husband and cat in tow. Already my mother has a group message on Facebook, planning out the menu and it’s getting pretty elaborate. I’m going to contribute bacon and Brussels sprouts, a big chocolate cake, a couple jars of pickles that I made this summer, and a 1-lb. bag of the best caramels Montana has to offer for our glorious feast.

There will be turkey, ham, fried chicken, dressing, several casseroles, fresh veggie sides aplenty, and a full dessert bar. With seven women cooking, we’d be able to feed 100 people easily.

Nothing warms my soul more than being around my family for a big holiday dinner. The warmth of love fills the entire house and we end up with enough food for everyone to take home leftovers. I would say that all of the food that goes into one of our big family dinners is 100 percent soul food. You can taste the love that went into every bite. I’m really looking forward to heading back home.

I hope y’all have as happy of a Thanksgiving as I’m about to have!

Exhaustion (and Snow!)

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| November 5, 2017

43 COMMENTS

“Winston was gelatinous with fatigue.” ― George Orwell, 1984

It’s been snowing like crazy in Montana the past couple of days. Once I saw that we’re supposed to get another foot in the forecast, I decided late last night to shovel out the driveway so I could clear off my car and go get the necessary supplies.

My conversation with my husband went something like this:

Me: I spent the last hour shoveling this driveway out and we’re supposed to get another foot tomorrow.

Terry: Jesus! You’re about to be snowed in!

Me: Yep! Gonna go to the store to get bread and milk

Terry: Hahaha

—about 20 minutes later—

Me: Okay, I’m finally done! Driveway is good enough, cleaned a foot of snow off my car, and cleaned a spot out in the garage to park

Terry: Wow!

Me: Yeah, little over an hour of work. Hopefully Albertsons is open!

Terry: Were you serious about bread and milk?

Me: Yep!

Terry: Bwahahaha! You have a freezer full of meat, babe! You aren’t going to be snowed in and starve! But if your Arkansas roots demand it

Me: My Arkansas roots demand it

Terry: You better send me a picture of you clutching bread and milk then

Me: I will make this happen

I managed to get my bread and milk, a little dab of produce, and some Ritz crackers. I know I’m not going to be snowed in here for weeks, but I’ll not be leaving my house the rest of this weekend. I’ve not been keeping up with my exercise very well either. Between last night’s front walk and driveway scraping and this morning’s front walk scraping, I am absolutely exhausted. Gelatinous with fatigue is very appropriate to describe how I’m feeling. At the same time, I’m determined to make this Montana-woman thing work despite my Arkansas roots.

Hard Work and Opportunity

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| October 2, 2017

21 COMMENTS

“Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don’t recognize them.” — Ann Landers

As the last of the remaining warm days dwindle here in Montana, I’ve spent several days this week working on a clawfoot dining room set that I got for free earlier this summer. I got the set because I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. At a local flea market, I was caught by a vendor admiring one of the chairs out on the loading dock. He asked if I liked the chair and I replied that I thought it would be beautiful with a little TLC. He told me there was a table with it and I said that my husband would probably shoot me if I spent a bunch of money on a fixer-upper dining set. He said if I loaded it up, it was all mine, free of charge. I jumped at the opportunity and with a little help from a few old guys, I was on the road with a pickup loaded with six dining chairs and a gorgeous hardwood clawfoot table.

As I spent the first half of the summer travelling, I didn’t get much time to work on the furniture. I spent a Saturday tearing the chairs apart so I could assess how much work they actually needed. Fortunately, not a whole lot: upholstery, replacing a few missing screws, and re-waxing.

On my trip to Arkansas back in May, I found some gorgeous, reasonably priced upholstery material to re-cover the chairs with. I didn’t get to touch the upholstery until some time in July, when both Terry and I decided to retreat back into hermit mode as we’d both spent May and June on the road. I was very pleased with the results.

This week, I managed to get a few warm-enough-to-work-in-the-garage days to finish four of the chairs. (Which I wanted to have done tonight for my company coming over.)

If I were afraid of hard work, I wouldn’t have this gorgeous set of furniture, soon to be completed, to proudly display in my home.

Learning to Drive

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| September 26, 2017

5 COMMENTS

My first driving lesson was with my grandpa down a dusty county road in northeast Arkansas in the middle of summer. I think I may have been 10 or 11 at the time. I had already wanted to know how to drive for years. I always claimed oldest kid privilege so I could sit in the front seat, next to Mom, as I attempted to memorize the various turns and corrections she made on the steering wheel to take us from town to our country home.

Pa had been watching my sister and I at his house that afternoon. Around lunch time, we went into town to get some baloney and white bread for sandwiches. On the way back to the house, he asked if I wanted to give driving a shot. Boy howdy did I! He got us around the curve to where no one would be watching, then got out of the pickup and told me to scoot over. I could barely touch the pedals, but I managed. He patiently instructed me on which pedal did what, and how to get it out of park, then climbed back in on the passenger side next to my sister.

The road grater had driven through as we were in town, and we could see it about a half mile up the road. The driver hadn’t come back yet to smooth the levee of dirt and rocks off to the right side of the road. Pa instructed me not to get over the mini-levee because there wasn’t a shoulder and I might get pulled into the ditch. I carefully put the truck into drive and slowly accelerated the old Dodge down the road. I got a little too far over onto the mini-levee and the wheel was jerked out of my tiny hands. Pa said “Turn it left, now!” and I did. I managed the wrangle the steering wheel into submission and pull back to where I needed to be. A few minutes and a mile later, we were pulling into his driveway. I stopped way too short on parking so I didn’t hit the post on the carport.

“Good job, kiddo!” Pa said, while tussling my hair. I was so happy. Driving at last!

Vulnerability, or the Time RyanM and VC Saved My Life

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| September 14, 2017

56 COMMENTS

“When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.” ― Madeleine L’Engle

When I was about 4 or 5, I started taking swimming lessons. I’ve always loved swimming and it’s one of the few athletic things I’ve actually been consistently good at, regardless of the rest of my physical health.

This past weekend was the Montana Rico Meetup, and I finally got to meet @vicrylcontessa and @1967mustangman. I’ve known @ryanm for several years as he’s an old friend of my husband’s (as listeners of Flyover Country already know). Sunday, we decided to go out kayaking on the lake as VC had brought her kayak and the McPherson clan was staying at a resort that offered free kayaks. I was incredibly excited as I haven’t been kayaking in years and it’s something I’ve always enjoyed.

We got the kayaks down to the lake and the water was the opposite of calm. I was extra excited because I knew this would make it more fun. Danger was the last thing on my mind as I’m still relatively young and believed I was still invincible. I did not take a life vest. I’m the opposite of a petite woman and I could already tell that none of the vests were going to fit me. So rather than having an embarrassing time failing to fit into one, I boldly proclaimed that I would be fine and had enough “padding” to stay afloat. This would have been true had the lake been still.

Getting the kayak out in the water was difficult because the waves were large and kept pushing the kayak parallel to them. The kayak filled up with water quickly and it took several of us to get it back on the rocky beach and dumped out. We tried getting it back in again and WHOOSH! I got sucked under it, bruising my shins on the rocks in the process. I got up out of the water, still determined to get the damn thing out in the water.

Finally, I was out on the lake, paddling away from the shore, going up and down the increasingly larger waves while having a blast. I got out a little way and decided to see how easy it was to turn the thing 180 and point back at the shore. It was fairly easy. Feeling more confident, I decided to chase some of the bigger waves a little further out. It was glorious! I was having so much fun! The smoke had also lifted enough that I could see the mountains and the scenery was absolutely beautiful.

After a while, I decided that I should head back to shore as my arms were beginning to get tired from paddling. VC had gone much further out in the lake than I had. I started to turn, but my timing was off and a wave hit just as I was doing so. The kayak rocked dangerously but I kept trying to turn. Another big wave hit, but I was still up. I was almost there in the right position when I got knocked over by a third big wave and over I went. I couldn’t get the kayak back up. It didn’t have a skirt and had taken in too much water from the first two waves.

I finally gave up trying to push the kayak, knowing that it would eventually reach shore and I completely lost track of the paddle. I turned towards the shore and kicked off my flip flops, determined to swim for it, but it didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t making nearly enough progress for how tired my arms were. The waves were dumping water over my head and I went under a few times. I tried kicking my legs with the waves, but my head kept going under water. I tried rolling on my back to just let the waves carry me back to shore, but after a few nosefuls of water, I decided that wasn’t a good idea either. I knew I was in a really bad position and the main thing that popped into my mind from all my swimming lessons was “Call for help and try not to panic because panicking will make it worse.”

I started yelling for help, hoping they could hear me over the wind and the waves on the shore. I didn’t know how far back VC was still, but I assumed I was going to have to do most of the swimming. So yelling in between coughing up water and swimming I did. I had gotten out much further than I’d originally intended, I thought I saw someone swimming towards me, but they were so far away they looked like a dot without my glasses. I was getting too tired to stay afloat. I was taking in too much water and having trouble breathing. My labor was getting less and less effective at keeping me up. My head started slipping under the water more and more. My arms felt like jelly. I was trying so hard not to panic but it was getting more difficult to keep it together. I prayed as hard as I could that I wouldn’t die like this. This is not how I wanted to go.

It seemed like an eternity passed, but then there was VC, handing me a lifeline in the form of a paddle and I clung to it in desperation. I don’t remember what either of us said. The only thing I remember was sheer relief flooding in to replace my terror. She held me up with the paddle until Ryan made it to me with a couple of life jackets. I was going to live after all. Using the life vests to keep my upper half afloat, I kicked with the waves and eventually made it back to shore, just as my legs were starting to feel like jelly.

I found out later that she had started towards me after she saw my kayak flipped over. If she hadn’t noticed, I don’t think Ryan would have made it out to me in time. I felt so dumb that I didn’t at least take a life vest with me, or wear one unfastened. It was an abrupt lesson, learning that I am, in fact, a vulnerable human being and I am not, in fact, invincible just because I am young. It’s also been difficult for me to come to terms with facing my own mortality.

VC and Ryan both have my eternal gratitude. I truly appreciate you both.

Quote of the Day: Idiots

By J.D. Snapp

Coolidge

J.D. Snapp

Originally from Arkansas, I now hail from Casper, WY. My husband is Terry Snapp, part of the Flyover Country duo. I’m a quilter, a gamer, a crazy cat lady, and a software engineer.

| August 29, 2017

24 COMMENTS

“Real comedy is not when you laugh at an idiot, it’s when the idiot laughs at you.” ― Raheel Farooq

I follow Mike Rowe on Facebook. I’m a huge fan and the more posts of his I read, the more of a fan I become.

More recently, he’s had a run-in with a certain Chuck Atkins who implied that Mike Rowe and his followers were white nationalists because Mike Rowe encourages people finding employment in the trades instead of spending tens of thousands going to college. This note from Mr. Atkins was incredibly smug and snarky, and to my delight, Mike Rowe called him out on it. Normally, that would be the end of that. Mike Rowe has plenty of off-the-wall, hateful comments that he responds to and easily puts people in their place.

But Chuck came back.

He backpedaled on the “white nationalists” insult and called Rowe’s followers “conservative jag-offs” instead, saying that he wanted to be a “squeaky wheel” that Rowe would actually respond to. And so he did. Rowe told the guy he was happy to grease the squeaky wheel, to which Atkins responded that his original comments were true because he had gotten threats from people who “put a white nationalist in the White House”. The “discussion” continues on with Chuck becoming less and less coherent, making off-the-wall comments about how Mike Rowe got his “goons in the right-wing media” to go after him, how Mike’s followers are idiots and strictly white anti-science people, some random tangent about iphones, and how 2 years of civil service and college should be mandatory. He ends by mocking Mike Rowe, saying “he got trolled by a f***in Honey badger!” and that Mike is like “Elmer Gantry”.

Chuck’s “arguments” were so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. He brought any negativity onto himself in the first place by making publicly available insults against an entire group of people, then followed up as though he was the one having the last laugh without a shred of self-awareness about how foolish he appears.

I’m glad Mike Rowe took the time to stand up for his fans, but not because I felt insulted at being called a “white nationalist”. I’m glad because Mike Rowe provided all of us with some amusing entertainment at Chuck’s expense.

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Conservative Conversation + Podcasts

J.D. Snapp

@juliesnapp

Meeting Larry Correia

Summer in Montana

Summer Memories

Quote of the Day: Stress

Quote of the Day: Irritating Co-workers

Quote of the Day: Weathering the Storm

An Open Letter to Snow

Stuffing vs. Dressing

Quote of the Day: Christmas Memories

Quote of the Day: Friends

Quote of the Day – The Last Minute

Quote of the Day: Black Friday

Southern Soul Food

Exhaustion (and Snow!)

Hard Work and Opportunity

Learning to Drive

Vulnerability, or the Time RyanM and VC Saved My Life

Quote of the Day: Idiots

J.D. Snapp

@juliesnapp