What Do We Trade
The question was 'What did you want to be when you grew up?" Well, now, glad you asked.
I remember when I was right about five years old, my step-father was in the Air Force, and we were on our way south to the base in El Paso, Texas. We were all riders, even my step-father had been a jockey, then mom, my sister and I.
On our journey we decided to take a break and rented horses to ride. As I said, I was about five, and being the smallest of us'ns I ended up with the slow poke of the horses.
I mean who puts a five year old tyke on a horse by themself? As I've shared before I liked our Indian pony. We thought alike...move at a run, a fast run.
Well, it was a memory. Ha!
But I had boots, cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and a cap gun to take care of the bandits. I was gonna be a crack-shot like Annie Oakley and ride the range.
Here is a link to Patsy Montana's "Cowboy's Sweetheart.
And as another old song says, yes, I'm older but not much wiser. My saddle needs stitched, and I'd have to borrow Young Fuzzy's horse, and I would definitely need a high mounting block, but. . .
"It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise, than for a man to hear the song of fools. For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool: this also is vanity." (Ecclesiastes 7:5-6 KJV)
