a real cowgirl...

It's official.  I am not sure who decrees the honors to me, but I have earned my pigtail braids and overalls.  Granted my overalls are covered with paint and not manure, but I have shooed cattle.  I made lunch/dinner for Thomas before he had to head to work.  We were a little pressed for time because I was painting in and around the kitchen, thereby making a big mess.  But as we sat eating in the living room, I look out the window to see a small herd of cattle coming up the driveway.  I went out to shoo them away from the garden, and then came in to call Art up the road to see if they are his.  I left a message and took another bite.  I walked back out to find they had huddled around the house, so I shooed them back towards the corner of the property.  I called Tom's dad to see if he knew who I should call, but he said he would come over to look at the brand first.  I couldn't see the brand, and Thomas didn't recognize it.  Before Mike could arrive, Thomas decided to help before he left for work.  We teamed up: he waved his hat pushing them toward the gate, and at the right moment I threw up my arms and heeyaw-ed them out the gate.  Mike was just showing up, and he didn't recognize the brand either.  He suggested to call Gene down the road, and I did.  Gene also had someone pulling into his yard suggesting they might be his.  Problem solved, as I watched them mosey west down the highway toward Gene's house. About twenty minutes later, Gene stopped by to say they aren't his, and nobody knows who they belong to.  Maybe so and so or another guy, but nobody I know.  I came in to grab my camera to get a picture of them hanging out at the end of my corner, but they must have moseyed on some more. The kicker was telling Gene how funny it was that I just looked up from my lunch to see them coming up the driveway.  Evidently not funny, as Gene told me, "Nah, this things not so unusual."  So maybe I am still a city slicker kind of cowgirl...