The Ranchers are zinging off the walls.  Their bags are packed (yes, we used a list). Medical records are stashed, passports checked and double-checked, snacks bought for the trip to Galveston, the vehicles cleaned and gassed and safety-checked, the bus driver hired, and a zillion other details seen to.

On top of the whirlwind of activity we were engaged in today, a local energy company was working right in the heart of things replacing gigantic wooden utility posts and lines with monstrous concrete posts that look like something out of the War of the Worlds. 

Chief the paint gelding got so spooked by the machines and commotion he broke out of his stall and the paddock and gave Don and Lori an exciting chase around the Ranch.

A family had stopped by to do a self-tour of the Ranch with their young son, who has Down syndrome, and seemed gratified by the wild west scenario unfolding before them.

“As advertised,” said I, with a wan smile.

And now I tumble into bed, exhausted, but looking forward to warm temperatures and soft beds as we make our way south.  We ask your prayers for calm seas and happy tummies on our way.

I'll keep you posted from the ship.