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I was checking heifers one dark, freezing cold night in late February a few years back, when I came upon a hapless tiny newborn calf shivering all alone under some sagebrush, with no mama in sight.

It’s the beginning of December
And cowboys around the globe,
Are counting down to Christmas,
The calves have been sold!

Twas’ the first day of Christmas,
and all through the house,
My wife, she was stirring,
in a seasonal blouse.

Growing up, my mom was infamous for having totes and totes of Christmas decorations nestled in our crawlspace. It drove my dad bonkers.

This is the season of the year when we are poignantly reminded of all the things for which we should be grateful. Too often, however, life gets in the way, and we don’t take the time to consider all our blessings. Between breaking ice in stock tanks, trying to get teenagers out of bed to do chores and working to remember what was in grandma’s turkey dressing before we leave the grocery store, we often don’t stop to reflect on all we have.

The horses are out. It’s a simple phrase. A statement of fact. A declaration of circumstance.