When you’re halfway asleep and your brain is running on in whatever track it happens to be stuck on you get some weird stuff sometimes.

My thoughts were shaped pretty much like this “…I got to get up and saddle the Apploosa, go round the property see how the fence posts are doing… Storm might have knocked  some of them down… don’t want the livestock to get out… hate when that happens… wonder if there’s any coffee yet…”

I was ready to pull on my Tony Llamas and amble out into the kitchen, drink my coffee from a chipped enamel mug and then mosey on off to the barn to saddle up and head out.

When I peeled my eyes all the way open I realised that – hey, you know what? I’m actually not a ranch hand.

Well. Fuck.

I coul have understood it if I had been watching old cowboy movies, or reading cowboy stories, or even just … I don’t know, heard Kid Rock on the radio or something, but no.

Man, I wonder what the hell I was dreaming.

Also, pretty much par for the course, note that I didn’t dream of long lazy days in Texas heat, drinking sweet tea on the porch or anything, no of course not, I was dreaming of getting up and going to work.

Imm’a thinkin’ that’s some typical stuff right there. Just sayin’.

Tip of the cowboy hat to y’all.

ROL