Well, he walks out in the arena
All dressed up to the brim
Said he’d just came down from a place
Called ‘Highland Rim’

I’m working on no sleep today. Of course, we all seem to have a good excuse to explain our deficiencies and our inefficiencies, but I really believe my excuse today has some validity to it. Here’s the deal:I was going about my business with the chores in the early evening last night, when I noticed the dog pestering one of the horses that was lying over by the water troughs.

My daughter Anna is in her junior year in college as a political science major. She’s strayed a bit off the family path in terms of her college career, but we still allow her to come home – on occasion.

A couple of years ago, a good friend of mine, who happens to be one of the county commissioners, asked me to write up a little roast/tribute to the retiring county sheriff.

When I was about 7 years old, an old horse trader, of sorts, showed up in our country with a truckload of Shetland ponies.

It’s a pretty tall order, if not absolutely impossible, to win all of life’s battles. The odds against you are even greater if you’re not careful when picking your battles.

Last month, I went back to my hometown to attend the funeral of my uncle. It was kind of a surreal experience for several reasons, not the least of which being Uncle Reed was only eight years older than I am, the youngest of eight siblings and the first of those siblings to die.

Some of my earliest memories from growing up are of riding on the front of my dad’s saddle as he rode to and from the hay fields to irrigate.

I have a good friend who is a genuinely good, generous, down-to-earth kind of guy. Like a lot of us, he bounced around a few places at different jobs before he settled in in southern Idaho.

My grandfather, a World War I veteran, died when I was 13. He was always an old man when I knew him, but the memories I have of him are mostly good ones.