I grew up doing ranch hand work for my grandparents. Unfortunately, the animals have gone over the years. No horses to greet us and bob their heads in joy of our arrival. No stampede of dogs chasing a lone and very frightened squirrel. The sparkling canopy of trees now cover a barren hill with remnants of Hurricane Irma. My Grandfather can't climb onto his tractor anymore, and he plans to sell the hard earned playground of my childhood soon. It puts a rock in my throat knowing that I can't escape there when I'll inevitably be missing my Gran and Pappaw.

My very first job as a kid was working on a horse farm mucking stables. Tough work (I won’t say hard) But that $100 a week was rewarding. That’s where my dad’s maxim of “Give an honest days work and get an honest days pay” really struck home. I’m trying really hard to teach my kids that lesson.

Yep, every kid should spend a few years on the farm doing chores and amusing themselves. When I was eight my older brother and I would spend a few weeks to a few months on my aunt's farm. I was shocked that she had no horses. I mean, every farm was suppose to have horses, even for the plowing. So I learned to drive the Farmall and the Fergerson. Lots of chores to do, lots of time to read, television only pulled in two stations, the rest were noise. Sorry folks, that was the fifties, when in rural Texas one could still look up and see the stars at night, big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas....