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.
AAAAAAHHH! Bulls, already a problem! How in less than 24 hours do you get one tearing down fence and in the wrong herd and another fraidy-cat hiding in the bushes? And besides that half of them are terrorists. If I had a nickle for every time some big white whale came at me on my horse I'd be a rich cowgirl. As it is, I'm just lucky to be alive . . . grumble, grumble, grumble. I could go on all day grumbling but it doesn't do me any good.
On a bright note, I'm going to one of our other daughter's branding today. I'll try and get some pictures. See ya all later.