There’s
just something about falling in love in November, thought Steve.
Something … timely. Something … special. Steve’s incredible
shaving-brush-like moustache is gray now. It’s lasted a long time,
there at the ranch and up at Steve’s cabin, and it deserves to be
such an elegant gray.
Falling in love, Steve said to himself, just couldn’t be all that
terrific. November … the Native American’s hunger moon. The month of
storms and danger, when smart outdoorsmen practiced being even
smarter indoorsmen.
But Steve always thought there was a slice of flavor inside a
November romance because of the month’s hardships. Some of the
longest lasting and happiest marriages began with a November
romance. He silently recited several November bondings that appeared
to be happily headed for eternity.
Women are truly wonderful, even in November. They’re soft and warm
and cuddly. If a guy finds himself in need of a snuggle, a woman is
at the top of the list.
Oh, a dog is okay, he thought. But a woman … when it works right …
is the best. [to top of second
column] |
Maybe someday, Steve thought. Have to think about
that kinda hard this winter.’
After November. Nothing serious should be planned in November.
Unless, of course, the right woman should come along ……
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by Sweetgrass Mornings, by Slim Randles. Try
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