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He pulled up to the house in a new model Chevy Silverado. I was couldn’t immediately tell who it was. The figure inside seemed incongruous with the shiny, gold-painted truck. His beard was long and his hair scraggly and gray.

A while back, about the time winter was thinking about getting serious, I did something I’d never done before: I got a flu shot.

It was a sky-blue bicycle with the then-popular “banana” seat, and it had lots of pink frills, obviously a girl’s bike. It showed up under the Christmas tree one year, and our 6- or 7-year-old daughter was over the moon with delight.

I’ve heard many farmers, dairy producers and ranchers say they wished they could spend more time on a tractor or horse instead of riding around in a pickup or stuck in front of a computer.

If you’ve followed me long on here or over at my blogs on Progressive Cattle, you know I’ve got two topics I talk about on repeat.

A few years ago, I was asked to tag along on a trail ride in the great Owyhee country of southwestern Idaho with a few dozen state, county and federal officials and several distinguished members of the hierarchy of the Western cattle industry.