Two weeks into weaning,
we celebrate real progress,
the gather, sort and haul—
the harvest down deep-rutted
dirt tracks, 4-wheel drive,
low-range gooseneck tow,
bawling calves to the asphalt—
our early peach
tequila margarita,
just-picked berry
and last season’s lime
juice frozen into a star.
Blank page and pencil,
this year rattles
everywhere we go.
Welcome back. We missed you. Ever made a hat band or belt out of the skins?
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Under the auspices of only shooting ground squirrels, I brought rattlesnakes home to skin and tack to scraps of lumber when I was twelve. Concerned, my mother recognized my childish quest to become a man. Quite different times, my folks would have been thrown in jail today for turning a kid loose with a .22 rifle.
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Isn’t that the truth? They might even get in trouble for letting you shoot a BB gun. These day children are suspended from school from pointing their thumb and forefinger in a “gun” shape. Unbelievable.
janet
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Amen
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Margarita looks delicious- especially after a hot day!
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The peach tree is loaded, delicious, but unfortunately short-lived before the birds take over. Pick and give away everyday. No time for anything fancy in the middle of weaning. You just can’t beat a fresh peach!
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