Cowhands and Traildust

Last Spring I went to my first Cowboy Auction. No, not a place for fat old cowgirls to get a Cowboy, though that might be interesting. My friend Craig Colflesh is the ultimate collector of things Cowboy, and he has started doing auctions selling very collectible and interesting items to collectors around the world. What a wonderful place to people watch! I tried the whole time I was there, to get a picture of an old hand who was just priceless. I wanted to add it to my 'photos from behind' collection. He was about 5'tall and had seen a lot of cowtails in his day. His wide tooled cowboy belt was worn and dark with stains from a hundred cattle drives. He wore the silver buckle like a purple heart. I'm sure it was his badge of courage. His legs were so bowed that 2 loose Catahoula cattle hounds walked through side by side without brushing his knees. All they did was duck their heads. His jeans were tight and faded and dust billowed as he strode into the pavillion in his knee high, cut-under boots. The shade from his hat kept the buzzard on his shoulder cool as it rested there waiting for it's next meal. Yes, he was a legend in his own mind. The unlit cigar stub that jutted from his crease of a mouth told the story. Try as I might I couldn't get a shot at him without someone blocking the camera. Maybe he was just a mirage........ Perhaps he wasn't even there......it was just my imagination conjuring up the old hand who wiped a tear from his eye as an old high pommeled saddle with a cantle that reached his waist was brought up for sale........... Okay! So I embellished a little. How often do you run into characters like this anyway?
I am happy to report that the things I took brought a right respectable sum and I am now ready to hit the Cowboy trail in search of more treasures. Not exactly what I had in mind but it is sure neat. Pistol Packin Prudence

Frogs! You've Gotta Love Um!

Everyone always loves my frogs in the garden, so I
thought you might get a kick out of this. I must tell you, today while walking
to the barn I heard a strange, weak, wierd sound coming from the direction of
the pond in the garden. I walked over and noticed Ed, the grey, skinny barn
cat lying flat as a pancake on the big rock by the pond. His arm was
extended over something strange looking. It was a frog! It was so puffed up
I hardly recognized it. Ed would stretch out his arm and gently push down on
the silly frog. When he did, it let out a tortured croak as it deflated. When
it got flat, it would puff up again, and the whole scene was repeated. I
have no idea how long they were doing that! So funny!!! I picked up Mr. Frog
gently, dipped him in the pond and held him for a second. Once he realized
he wasn't swimming in cat stomach juice he deflated and swam away. Frogs, you
gotta love em!