Hen's Teeth, Horse Feathers, and Mount Suribachi
Have you ever had a perfect day, one in which everything fell into place, nothing went awry, and you felt as though providence smiled on you in spite of yourself?
I know - a perfect day is as mythical as hen's teeth, horse feathers, and honest politicians. But they exist, dear reader, for yesterday I had such a day.
I needed to pick up some venison from the meat processor near our deer lease. The ranch we lease is about two hours from home, and nothing makes the miles go faster than having an eleven year old granddaughter as your co-pilot. Arianna jumped at the invitation to go along, as she loves the ranch almost as much as I do.
First up was a required stop at our halfway point in Lampasas for some Bush's fried chicken, where Arianna insists that macaroni is a vegetable.Who am I to argue?
Next we stopped at the feed store to look for things a cowgirl needs, and a little something for my bride.
Upon arriving at the ranch, we sighted in my venerable .22 rifle and went through a box of shells. Annie Oakley would have been proud.
Then the real fun...driving on the ranch. She did so well that I wasn't nervous at all. The downside was I had to get all the gates! We counted all the deer we saw, watched a new calf nurse, and laughed at the antics of baby goats.
We stopped at one of the many wind turbines on the ranch and took a couple of pictures for scale.
The towers are over 200 feet tall with blades 116 feet long!
After checking feeders and doing a little mudding, we drove to town, appreciating and commenting about all the beautiful ranches we passed. We picked up our venison and headed toward home. But first, we needed to take care of all that mud.
Back again in Lampasas, it was supper time (dinner is the noon meal on ranch days, thank you very much) so we stopped in for a bite to eat at a sandwich shop.
Upon sitting down to wait for our meals, my granddaughter noticed an elderly man sitting alone who was having some trouble with his drink carton. She asked him if he needed help, and he said he did. Arianna jumped up without hesitation, went to the gentleman's table and provided the assistance he needed.
After she returned to our table, the gentleman asked if we liked to read. We responded in the affirmative, so he told us he had a book to give us. He went to his car and returned with his autobiography. He sat next to Ari and asked her name. He then signed the book and gifted it to her. Her new friend is T. Fred Harvey from Kerrville, TX.
I noticed Mr. Harvey wore a baseball cap that had "Iwo Jima Marine Veteran" embroidered on it. I asked him about it. He said yes he served there, but only made it 9 days. That was all he said. If you read the story in the link above, you will find that he "only" made it 9 days because he covered a Japanese hand grenade with his hip when it fell into his foxhole near the base of Mount Suribachi.
Thanking someone like this for his service is far too small a gesture, but I did it anyway. My heart was in my throat with pride for my granddaughter's kindness to a stranger, but also with respect for this man who gave so much "for this great country of ours" (his words).
On the way home I began to explain to Ari about WWII and how the attack on Pearl Harbor prompted many young men to answer the call to defend our country, as Mr. Harvey did as a teenager. I told her about Iwo Jima and how Mr Harvey had probably been wounded (which I confirmed later). She asked a lot of questions, and I told her how proud I was of her.
Yeah...a pretty perfect day
I know - a perfect day is as mythical as hen's teeth, horse feathers, and honest politicians. But they exist, dear reader, for yesterday I had such a day.
I needed to pick up some venison from the meat processor near our deer lease. The ranch we lease is about two hours from home, and nothing makes the miles go faster than having an eleven year old granddaughter as your co-pilot. Arianna jumped at the invitation to go along, as she loves the ranch almost as much as I do.
First up was a required stop at our halfway point in Lampasas for some Bush's fried chicken, where Arianna insists that macaroni is a vegetable.Who am I to argue?
Next we stopped at the feed store to look for things a cowgirl needs, and a little something for my bride.
Upon arriving at the ranch, we sighted in my venerable .22 rifle and went through a box of shells. Annie Oakley would have been proud.
Then the real fun...driving on the ranch. She did so well that I wasn't nervous at all. The downside was I had to get all the gates! We counted all the deer we saw, watched a new calf nurse, and laughed at the antics of baby goats.
We stopped at one of the many wind turbines on the ranch and took a couple of pictures for scale.
The towers are over 200 feet tall with blades 116 feet long!
After checking feeders and doing a little mudding, we drove to town, appreciating and commenting about all the beautiful ranches we passed. We picked up our venison and headed toward home. But first, we needed to take care of all that mud.
Back again in Lampasas, it was supper time (dinner is the noon meal on ranch days, thank you very much) so we stopped in for a bite to eat at a sandwich shop.
Upon sitting down to wait for our meals, my granddaughter noticed an elderly man sitting alone who was having some trouble with his drink carton. She asked him if he needed help, and he said he did. Arianna jumped up without hesitation, went to the gentleman's table and provided the assistance he needed.
After she returned to our table, the gentleman asked if we liked to read. We responded in the affirmative, so he told us he had a book to give us. He went to his car and returned with his autobiography. He sat next to Ari and asked her name. He then signed the book and gifted it to her. Her new friend is T. Fred Harvey from Kerrville, TX.
I noticed Mr. Harvey wore a baseball cap that had "Iwo Jima Marine Veteran" embroidered on it. I asked him about it. He said yes he served there, but only made it 9 days. That was all he said. If you read the story in the link above, you will find that he "only" made it 9 days because he covered a Japanese hand grenade with his hip when it fell into his foxhole near the base of Mount Suribachi.
Thanking someone like this for his service is far too small a gesture, but I did it anyway. My heart was in my throat with pride for my granddaughter's kindness to a stranger, but also with respect for this man who gave so much "for this great country of ours" (his words).
On the way home I began to explain to Ari about WWII and how the attack on Pearl Harbor prompted many young men to answer the call to defend our country, as Mr. Harvey did as a teenager. I told her about Iwo Jima and how Mr Harvey had probably been wounded (which I confirmed later). She asked a lot of questions, and I told her how proud I was of her.
Yeah...a pretty perfect day
Comments