By four o'clock, my lips were stinging chapped and every time I put my teeth together, I crunched dirt. The water we got from the red pump in the back pasture was almost gone. It was warm. I was hot. And there was more work to do.

Having now experienced daily life on a Wyoming ranch leads me to suspect there is always more work to do.

Our son, Andrew, works as a cowboy at the Bartlett Ranch in southeastern Wyoming. The ranch breeds and sells quarter horses. Andrew "rides the rough ones and ropes the wild ones." I flew to Denver last night and drove up to the ranch to spend time with him for the holiday weekend. It has been a year and a half since I've seen Andrew. It is good to be with him.