I'm past 60 where life seems a little quieter, more patient, less demanding, less contentious. Folks long gone are more remembered; childhood is more missed, youth is forgiven. With the grey hair, that I'm still vain enough to dye, has come the understanding that life isn't forever and if I have something left to do, I better get with it.
A deck on the truck, Yaaaaah! I could just dance for joy. Since the bulls caved in both sides of the box on the work truck we've been trying to save for a deck. It's more practical for us anyway but dang those cowboy wages.
I'm not complaining, really. It's great pay when you count in all the benefits: getting to hang out with your good horse, mother nature, and the man you love best in the whole world; getting to work with Collie's, having real cowboys for friends; and all that culture-symphonies of meadowlarks, sky paintings and cloud sculptures done by the real Master. What a good life!
But it just wasn't paying for a deck. I'll never doubt again that when God loves you there's always a way. Our way was this wonderful son-in-law (I haven't always thought so. I, of course, wanted a cowboy son-in-law.) who volunteered to help my cowboy make one.
All a miracle to me that the two of them could do it and have it look so great. My cowboy's a smart guy but not so much a welder. He's good at building stuff with wood (and I admire how he can fix a fence line, so straight and strong). He and my dad built a garage together for my folks. Funny how things come around.
Our youngest daughter, a really sweet girl, is beside herself with pride to have her husband and her dad working out in their garage together with her two little boys playing under their feet. You know, I actually like getting old and seeing the circle of life come around.