I think the season might have changed from spring to summer while I wasn't looking. A quiet breath of change that happened maybe while I was grading. Or shearing. Or mourning. Collectively, a lot
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I didn't want to go to the barn this evening. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. <<<>>> It's below freezing out here on the ranch. I woke up to snowflakes meandering to the
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Sunday: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas... The tune lilts through my head as I look around the house, but while there is probably a tree in the grand hotel, and while friends have been
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I sat down last weekend and made my Christmas lists. Christmas shopping. Christmas goals. Taking some inspiration from a blogger I follow--Karen at The Art of Doing Stuff--I decided
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8:15: Coffee It's after 8:00; I'm still in bed, under covers, and I've only REALLY been awake for about 15 minutes. Over and over, I have to explain this. I don't do early mornings unless I
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Kniggett stood perfectly for shearing. He always had; every shearing since his first, Kniggett stood rooted more than tied. He seemed to enjoy having his hot wool stripped off row by row,
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Sunday... 7:29 am. I'm still curled up in bed, asleep enough to be dreaming, when the phone goes off. I don't check it, letting the caller go to voicemail. I snuggle back into the
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"Oooph...Her teeth are a mess." Doc shone her headlight into Violetta's jaw and gestured for me to take a look. Pronounced under-bite aside, she had jagged edges, uneven wear, and several
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It's been one of "those" days. You know the ones... It's the sort of day that feels a bit like three. Nothing goes catastrophically wrong, but things don't go quite right either. Minor
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"Ok," I said, "tell me why this wouldn't work." John, God bless the man, was standing in my chicken coop with an ice breaker, chipping away at the mass of chicken shit and ice that was preventing