We sat down to eat breakfast this morning just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. It was a delicious breakfast of hash browns, sausage, and eggs, cause that’s how I roll…get up early, prepare a hearty feast for my family, slop the hogs, milk the cow, hitch up the team, mend the socks…all before 7:00. Yep, that’s me.
Anyway, when we were about done with breakfast, Will looked out the window and remarked, “Are those deer out there, or colts?”
This got everyone’s attention and we gaped out the window to determine what creature was moving across our CRP. The perceptive hunter/gatherer that I am knew immediate they were not deer.
And when they turned to the east, we knew our morning was about to get western. Abby and I wished the boys luck as they headed out to wrangle their steeds. (After all, we had the milk to strain, the dishes to wash, the bread to bake, the quilt to sew, you know, stuff like that.)
But all was going well. The rebellious colts were headed straight to their pen for their morning breakfast. What good boys!
My sweet son headed out with some corn to encourage them.
So far, so good.
But the colts smelled a rat.
And off they went into the wild blue yonder. So long guys! It was good knowing you. You were such sweet boys. Keep in touch! Be sure to write!
They were gone forever.
But wait! My sweet hubby had other ideas. I really think he wanted to do this all along. I mean, what could be more fun than flying across an open field in hot pursuit of delinquent colts?
But really, he just calmly drove out there and caught Buck. He’s such a stud. (Hee hee. That’s my double entendre for this morning.)
And the mischievous colts came home to live happily ever after.
All’s well that ends well!
And the boys asked if next time I was out gathering the eggs, tanning the hides, and mending the fences if I could kindly make sure all the gates were shut.
Yep. Sure. You betcha.