A Rancher’s Valentine..

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

On Valentine’s Day, you might be surprised by a box of chocolates or a rose…which are wonderful. If you’ve ever dated a cowboy though, you know Valentine’s gifts may not be ordinary . Cowboys are hardworking. Many a cowboy remembers Valentine’s Day because it is usually when he puts in a fuel order. Cowboy Valentine’s might look a little different:

You may get a new shot gun–as in the vaccine kind.

He may give you a swig of his favorite drink.

Your cowboy may try to get you to touch his hat–which means you owe him a kiss.

Men in boots sometimes present poems… That they wrote themselves:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Your eyes glisten more,

Than dew on cow’s poo poo.

 

Really girls, there are many ways a cowboy will love you…but I’m telling you this: if a cowboy gives you his time, he’s giving you one of his most precious commodities. The movies may show ranching as romantic, but we know it is a lot of work. A lot. So when your cowboy moves things around in his schedule, when he doesn’t jump to the computer to check the market reports or read a good article, when he includes you and makes time for you…that’s a Valentine’s gift.

Friendship, love, relationships…they aren’t made in the wrapped present. (Although they are nice!) Authentic connection happens in the small moments: sharing the newspaper, playing a game, walking out to check the heifers…trust happens in the details that revolve around each day. Maybe you watch the sunset, maybe you commiserate after a loss, perhaps you watch a movie because you’re tired…

However you share your Valentine’s Day, be thankful for time together. If you’re lucky, your cowboy may even let you drive the feed truck and you know what that means!!!—He’ll have to open the gates!

**Just a shout out to my cowboy…who remembered Valentine’s Day and got me a nice gift! I’m thankful!

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I’m in the driver’s seat…looking at a new calf. He’s quite a bit early for us, but he’s healthy!

 

 

 

Time Drainer… How to hold on to time

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I’m in the kitchen cooking supper and I’m wondering where my day went.

Sure seemed busy.

Things were accomplished: laundry, cleaning, phone calls, writing, feeding cows, chores, but where did the time really go?

If it were an object gone missing, like my son’s pocket knife, I’d look under couch cushions, stick my hands in coat pockets, and poke my head in odd places–like behind the commode or inside a the dog food sack.

Time hasn’t gone missing though–it’s there, it just passes quickly when I’m not looking. Even when I’m conscious of it, it slips through my fingers. In years past, I’ve been angry about it. Frustrated. Where did my hours go? I’m trying to get my to-do list done!

Yesterday I’m sitting at the computer getting ready to write and the Lord’s voice whispers, “Time isn’t an enemy. It’s a gift.” I pause. I’m not sure what to say… Or do. I don’t do anything and my muscles relax.

I breathe that in like the aroma of coffee or tea and let it sink it. Time is a gift.

A GIFT.

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Here I’d been trying to lasso it, wrangle it, or run it into a corral to keep it locked up. I’d been trying to wrestle time and instead it’s been wrestling me.

Here’s my new plan:

*Take the first moments I’m awake to be thankful for the day and pray.

*Make a to-do list and proceed in an order that fits around scheduled blocks of time in my day, but be flexible.

*Be present. I’m trying to be in the moment, rather than jumping ahead in my brain to the next thing that has to be done before my body even gets there.

*Stop. When things aren’t working, stop and go to something else.

*Make time for truly important adventures. Time with kids. Date nights with my cowboy.

*Countdown. I need time to decompress after the day and relax before heading to bed.

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Each of us will find different ways to make our days precious. However that happens, it’s a delight to know that time is not against us, it is a gift.