Barefootin' Mama in the Middle of Nowhere

Ridin’ the Range

So I have spent the last two days on a horse…. it’s been fairly awesome fantastic ( I am trying to be more positive in my life).  So on that more positive note I won’t even mention the fact that I have been riding my brother-in-law’s annoying horse because mine is in the shop.  Or that my father-in-law and his “constructive criticism” and his “vast knowledge base” has taken me to the point of no return and back!

BUT I will tell you all about the beautiful meadowlarks that I get to listen to.  I do not think there are enough words to describe the beauty of the song of the meadowlark.  Or the smell of the flowers as they are in full bloom: sweet clover, canola, alfalfa, sage…  Do yourself a favor… close your eyes… take a deep, deep breath… what did you smell?  I hope you were lucky enough to be able to experience a pasture (native preferably) on your inhale because believe me… it’s fantastic.

Days like yesterday and today are days that help me remember why I married a rancher in the first place.  Why I wanted so desperately to raise my children out in nature surrounded by animals and good husbandry of both the land and the livestock.  TOday Paul’s grandparents were visiting and we were having a break from the 32degree weather under a shade tree.  His dad says to me “wouldn’t it have been easier to have married a lawyer?” And then his grandma says “yes, you could have married a teacher and he would have 144 days off a year” and I looked at her and smiled and said “yeah, but if I had married a teacher I wouldn’t have gotten to marry Paul.”

I can’t wait until tomorrow… I love this job!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s