Working as a ranch hand on a ten-thousand-acre cattle ranch is no joke. I got up with the dawn, ate a quick breakfast and joined my boss in the ranch truck. The battered old thing had no A/C or heat and in North Texas in the snow, I missed that heater plenty bad. We rode with the windows down so managed to live without the air conditioning, just barely. Lifting fifty-pound feed sacks into the back of the truck was always the first order of the day. And I always knew that fence mending would fit in somewhere before the sun went down. Which, by the way, was not long after I got to head back to the house. But as long and hard as that ranch work was, I wouldn’t trade a minute of those years for anything on this earth.
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