T.H. (Trophy Husband) went to Colorado on business for two days so I guess that left me in charge. That means I’m the boss of me. So being the boss of me, I decided to give myself a day off. Not really. The only thing he asked me to do while he was gone was to check the steers that we just turned out on wheat pasture. Make sure they are 1) there, and 2) trailing down to the pond to drink. Obviously, T.H. has loads of confidence in my abilities. I think “That would make one of us”.
I drove up to the pasture planning how I was going to spend all my free time this afternoon. I just had one question for T.H……..What steers? I don’t see them anywhere!! Not only had they not found the pond yet, they were not there at all!! Maybe I have it wrong? But no, this is the right wheat field.. A quick call to T.H. in Denver confirms it. Just great, one simple job and I screw it up. Worse yet, there goes my day off. At his suggestion I went home, saddled up Paint, hauled him back up there. (I’m not really that lazy yet, this pasture is 6 miles from the house. I know you were thinking “why doesn’t she just ride him to the pasture?”)
I unloaded Paint and started riding and looking. See those black specks out there on the horizon? Those are the steers. There is one more variable in this equation. Paint has not been ridden in over a month. He had been turned out on wheat 3 days before . Presently, he is on the equine equivalent of a “Red Bull” high.
This is as close as we could get to the steers before they run off.
A cedar tree branch swayed in the wind and Paint jumped 10 feet sideways and then spun around like a dog chasing his tail. He’s looking for whatever big “booger” that was. Must have been a big one. As usual, invisible to human eyes. Now I was genuinely afraid. Where was this coming from? I used to never be afraid to ride. I wanted to cry, get off, walk back to the truck, go home and get in bed until tomorrow.
The spinning wheel of fear and anxiety in my head almost won ” I’m scared, no one cares, no one knows where I am, no one cares, except T.H. and he’s Colorado, and no one cares, and I’m 54 yrs old, I can’t ride like I used to, might as well give it up, no one cares, I’m too old, I could lay out here for days and freeze to death, and no one cares, and my pants are too tight, and my gray roots are showing, and no one cares, whaa whaa whaa” (I recognized the voice of my evil twin, ET. Sometimes I really hate that b$%@#)
I said a little prayer something like this “God please give me back the confidence I had when I was 40 and the body to go with it. Thanks, your friend Terah, Amen”
Then I think God said back to me distinctly, “Terah, put down your camera, and hold on to your horse, before you get hurt, your friend, God”
I’m an obedient child of God, so here is a lifelike drawing of the route we took to get the steers gathered up and down to the pond for a drink.
It appears someone’s horse might have been drunk like Lee Marvin’s in Paint Your Wagon. Not the case. the steers were a little wild. I had to stay way back and let them drift in the general direction. The whole project took about two hours. It was fun once I settled down.
We got them there eventually. Paint got a little sweaty.
I gained back some of my 40-year-old’s confidence, but not the body, yet.
(sorry just couldn’t help myself) Pretty Kansas Sunset
Love, Cowgirl Red aka Terah
P.S. Wish I could tell you that the steers settled down and staid put all due to my great “cowgirling” skills. But that would be a lie. When T.H. got home, we had to go gather some of them up from the neighbors. This last picture is them being unloaded from the stock trailer back out on our wheat. But, I still have some of my 40-year-old confidence and I’m going to the salon in Wichita tomorrow to do something about my hair.
I am a Cowgirl, Artist ...... Goddess of the Plains.
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