|My Dad is a cowboy. A cowboy with a PhD in...Animal Science? A really smart cowboy.|
I wish you could have seen his face as we drove up to their house. We round the final bend in the small road leading up to their house, and the first thing we see is a huge tree completely dismembered in the front lawn. Huge limbs were strewn about everywhere. Leaves and tiny twigs flew through the air. My Dad in the middle of it all, wielding his chainsaw with careful abandon.
How I wish I had a picture of it to show you. Needles to say, Cory had a fun-fulled, tree-cuttin' and haulin' afternoon. And he LOVED it, Dad. Really. He did.
My Dad saved my life, at least once that I know of. Probably more. When we lived on the ranch growing up, he would take us with him as he worked with the cows. (Little known fact about me: I've seen a lot of crazy cow related things. A lot. You've never really lived until you've seen your Dad tie a rope to a baby cow and pull it out of its mother.) Anyway, one day my dad angered a cow. It was really mad. I was...five years old? Maybe? And minding my own business. So much so, that I didn't hear the shouts for me to get out of the way of this angry, charging cow. I also didn't see the cow. Somehow my dad got to me before the cow and snatched me up just in time. Thanks, Dad.
Also, it was a really long time before my Dad let me go back on the rounds with him.
It was probably for the best.
|My parents 30 year anniversary was earlier this month.|
Speaking of the rounds, whenever I did go with him, we would be in the truck driving down the road, and we'd see the prettiest sunrises. My dad would sing a few lines of the Beatles, "Here Comes the Sun" to us, and I (We? I feel like my little brother Sam was there.) would refuse to believe that it was the sun. "NO, Dad." I insisted. "That is an ORANGE." And he would laugh. But I still say, If the shoe FITS. You know?
|Here he is with his first grandson, Master Jefferson, after my wedding.|
I'm a lot like my mom. Right down to ALWAYS burning the last batch of cookies and an inability to tan. But I've got some of my Dad in me too. He hides it, but he's got some quirky spunk. I'll always remember the shock he gave me when he offered to push me around Lowe's in a wheelbarrow he was purchasing. I was 14 at the time, and a little too self conscious to take you up on it, but try me again sometime.
There's so much more I love about my Dad. He built me bunk beds one weekend. He refinished countless pieces of furniture
|I love that he's carrying my Mom's wedding dress and purse in this photo.|
I love you Dad! Happy Father's Day!!