Many cherished childhood memories involve my grandparents' ranch in Montana. Learning how to ride a horse (practically before I could walk), gathering eggs, milking the cow, the smell of horses and alfalfa dust and dew -- staying on the ranch in the summer was always a glorious adventure.
Though the ranch is different and my grandparents are in their eighties, it still felt the same -- their down-to-earth humor filled the house. There's still a freezer for meat and another just for ice cream. And there are still horses -- scads of beautiful, sweet-tempered horses. My grandpa Peary's dearest dream was to be a horse rancher. While their income, at least when I was younger, came from beef cattle, those horses have always been dear to his heart. Most of us Hannums caught that love of horses, too.
Though the ranch is different and my grandparents are in their eighties, it still felt the same -- their down-to-earth humor filled the house. There's still a freezer for meat and another just for ice cream. And there are still horses -- scads of beautiful, sweet-tempered horses. My grandpa Peary's dearest dream was to be a horse rancher. While their income, at least when I was younger, came from beef cattle, those horses have always been dear to his heart. Most of us Hannums caught that love of horses, too.
RSS Feed
