Last time we talked, I was speaking my piece about the longest seven-mile cattle drive known to a gal… and as I type, Country Man and his father are loading up more in trailers to move to pasture over 15 miles away. Probably best that way. Parting makes the heart grow fonder and all. Going to drop their behinds off and say good riddance for the summer; it’s just me and the bulls for a little while.
Unrelated to our anniversary, Country Man and I are going to make a one-day trip up to Kansas to pick up a part. Big part. Trip soon. Real soon. Anyone been to Kansas? A slogging (slow jogging, I learned) friend of mine told me about her trip that way, but I stopped listening after she said “cheesecake factory”. Oh how I hope we dine at The Cheesecake Factory!
The pickup honked and I headed out the door to ride with husband. A Ruby Red Squirt in hand, I pulled my ankle length skirt up enough to hop in the pickup (still managing to get it caught in the door) and let the wind drive us west toward the open lands.
The humidity poured through his shirt and hair while the cold air blew hard and fast inside. He was a dirty, sweaty mess, with cracked fingers and bruised shins. I watched him wipe his brow, sparked with blessed curiosity to be married to a man who loves what he does and does it well.
Who sacrifices his body every day for the love of the land, for the love of ranching, for the love of farming, for the love of hard work… for the love of love.
Today (everyday, I try), I am thankful to dwell in land where neighbors choose to put their life out there for people like me to enjoy all this. To live in the moment. To live free.
Happy Memorial Day.