‘Twas the Night Before Donkmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Some small creature was stirring; could it be a mouse? There weren’t any stockings because I don’t care: Festive decor is not quite my affair. Two dogs were sprawled out all across the big couch While I couldn’t sleep, which made me a grouch. I …

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The Morning Five Foster Donkeys Arrived

In my freshly shined boots and my one pair of jeans without any holes, I’m standing at the edge of the gravel road out in front of the ranch. The sun has only barely peeked over the treetops; it’s morning rays filtering everything in a lively, lemony hue. Little Foot is securely fastened in a …

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Black Chicken Bloomed

One year ago today, I posted this story on my blog. This was the story of the Unicorn and the first death of a chicken here and how King Ranch refused to let one of his own die in vain. It poured and it broke our hearts. This morning, I decided to wander over to the spot beneath …

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You’re Done, Dead Weight

On our property are several pecan trees. During the fall, literally 1000’s of pecans fall with the leaves -- some crack open and some don’t. Pecans that do crack open are quickly discovered by hungry donkeys who look forward to the tasty, autumn treat.   During the summer time, however, the pecan trees turn into …

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Little Foot’s Little Books

We are nearing the end of the usual soaked, Texas spring. Soon, the clay will crackle in devastating dehydration and the treetops and rosebushes will be broiled. I give it another month until we’re begging for relief from the heat. I sat on the floor in the living room sipping my coffee, watching Little Foot …

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The Last Little Rockstar

The mid-afternoon air hung heavily around us as King Ranch and I stood behind the wooden back house with chipping red paint that sits a ways back on our property The back house is a dilapidated structure that we were told was the original house on the property. One side of it appears to have …

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Life and Death, Again. I Guess That’s the Way of Things.

It wouldn't rain. My goodness, had it been trying to, but it just would not rain. The thing about late, Texas spring is that when the sky tries to rain, but can’t, we’re all left wandering through soupy, walking-through-a-warm-wash-cloth air that gets trapped around the middle of the rib-cage when you inhale. For those of …

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Choppy Waves

To your tiny face, I stoop down, My thumb pushing that line Of tears. They’re cool on Your warm, tired face, and Glaze the depth of your blue Eyes with heavy glint that hurts.   Come here, unto my chest, my Baby, and feel my beating heart. Every Thump thumps just for you, every Hair, …

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Life. Death. And Somewhere in the Middle

As part of my morning routine, after coffee and a stretch and in addition to feeding the dog and giving the donkeys a pet, I check the chicken coop for any newly laid eggs in which to collect. For the past month or so, however, I have been unable to collect eggs because one of …

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A Season for Carving

With one hand lightly resting atop Bunny’s middle back and the other navigating a blue-handled, circular brush in thin lanes along her shedding side, I’ve just realized that I should have probably put some sunscreen on the back of my neck. I can’t see it, but it feels dark pink. Although it’s been about 6 …

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