Marci Whitehurst

A few nights ago, my hubby was out moving cows with friends. He texted me at 7:30 telling me they were almost done and he'd see me soon. Before long, it was 8:30. No hubby. Then 9:30. 10:30 crept up, no word.

The grass is greening up; babies are jumping around fields; and it's time for some spring-cleaning in the yard. It was in the yard where I found hundreds of bones. OK, not hundreds, but a lot. I found them in my flower beds, the grass and under the porch. Apparently hunting season was good for our cow dogs.

It's been noted that after several years of marriage, couples begin to finish each other's sentences and understand certain phrases to which they alone are privy. I'm certain this is true among cowboys as well. After 17 years of marriage though, I'm still uncertain of some of my hubby's grunts, hand motions and word combinations.

This fall, I've been looking over pictures that I took this summer, some of which include our vacation. With animals and land to care for, it isn't often that our family gets away.

Almost a year ago, we bought our first ranch. Granted, it is small in terms of most cattle ranches. Yet prior, we leased land for our cattle, so having our own chunk of dirt seems miraculous. It fit the budget, but the house needed major TLC, and the land had lacked regular care for many moons.