I don’t have to tell anyone it’s hot. I don’t have to tell anyone who has been around me for more than three minutes I am grouchy.
Frankly, I feel about as burned up as the cheat grass in the ditches along the county roads.
It is that aggravating time between planting and harvest, when all there is to do in the garden is water and weed. And weed. And weed.
But something wonderful and refreshing and recharging happened the other day. I went to look at some cows.
That doesn’t sound as invigorating as, say, a day at the seashore, but it worked nearly as well, short term. And there was no scalding sand to walk across just to dip toes in the water and get stung by a jellyfish.
You see, the Redheaded Stranger told a dear friend he would check on the cow herd while their family went to church camp and then took a little time for R&R.
It was a great honor to be asked, because this fellow doesn’t let anyone look after his cattle except himself. Not even the son-in-law.
And there is little the Stranger loves better than a good cow, except maybe a bad cow trying to kill him. He has a special spot in his heart— and his medical chart for the bad ones.
So, one afternoon I rode with him to check the cows. They live down near Calumet (I think. I got a little turned around) in as pretty a pasture as graces Oklahoma.
There is grass stirrup deep with plenty of thick clumps of trees for shade and for the cows to hide in.
These independent Bossies kept to the trees, too. Oh, we saw enough of them in the openings to know they were all present and accounted for, but usually all they had time for was a curious glance our way before returning to graze.
It wasn’t a comfortable trip, bouncing down rough two tracks in a farm truck with neither shock absorbers nor air conditioning.
But down there in the shady hammocks, close to the deep manmade waterway, there was peace. No cell service, just breezes stirring the hot air. It was too far from anywhere to even hear traffic.
And in those couple of hours my own inner peace returned. I felt as peaceful and sassy as those grazing cows we had traveled so far to check. Well worth the time and the trip.
Happiness is where you find it, even if it is in a cow pasture in the back of beyond.