The dawn sun rays of this ranch morning revealed a blue blanket in the front pasture compliments of eager bluebonnets praising the glory of life, death, resurrection and Easter eve.
The air is crisp, no breeze, and nary a cloud with the audacity to show its marshmallow face.
A walk to the front gate for the obligatory newspaper pilgrimage included the enthusiastic trumpet of the river bottom turkey toms challenging all comers on the opening day of spring turkey hunting season.
Add the joyous bounding of the ranch dawg seeking only the reward of his "alpha's" touch, the distant coo of the resident doves, and the blossoming promise of live oak leaves budding on the myriad acres of trees.
One knows in the bowels of their heart that He shall arise on the next morn and forever provide for the salvation of believers' souls.
Life is good and the ole ranch hand is eternally grateful.
Plain and simple ramblin' from an ole country boy concerning personal history, current family events, the Tin Star Ranch, and philosophical BS with no redeeming social value implied or intended.
Tin Star Ranch Hand
The Ole Fat Boy
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About Me
- TSRH
- I take country pride in being my parent's son, a grandpa, dad, husband, brother, uncle, nephew, christian, professor, patriot, special texas ranger, tractor jockey, woodworker, welder,shootist, bird house architect, low relief wood carver, counted cross stitcher, UT fan, meat burner, humorist, video poker devotee, raconteur, 8mm film star and all around BS artist.
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