By Bryce Angell

My eyes are glued up to the shelf, a brand-new pair of Mucks. They’d be in my possession, but I lack the certain bucks.

I could go without my Pepsi for a month or maybe two. But the headache would be pounding like a freight train passin’ through.

I’ve got my Visa plastic for emergencies and such. The boots are kinda spendy. Do I really care that much?

I grab my precious cargo and I’m tingling to my roots. The clerk says, “Hundred eighty.” Must be gold in them there boots!

To purchase I can justify. It’s more than just a treat. No more sittin’ in the saddle with my cold and frozen feet.

I’ve waited days to wear them. Time to saddle up Ol’ Blue.

But my boots won’t fit the stirrups. What’s a broke cowboy to do?

The boots ain’t never goin’ back. I burned the dang receipt. My wife will never know the cost. Is that what’s called deceit?

The Co-Op might be open. I’ve seen stirrups there to buy. They close at 6:00 p.m. It’s 6:05 p.m. No use to even try.

I’ll drive out to the shoppin’ mall. They’ve got a western store. But their prices are extravagant, not for the country poor.

I’m riflin’ through the stirrups. Find a pair that fits my Mucks. I take ’em to the clerk. She says, “Two hundred twenty bucks.”

This time I cough and choke on down my Wrigley’s Spearmint chew. The clerk said, “Sure they’re spendy, but they’re made for guys like you.”

I wonder what she meant ’cuz I ain’t got the cash to spare. I swear she meant hi-rollers with their nose up in the air.

Still, I bought the brand-new stirrups with my plastic, once again.

Does it hurt to use my Visa card, every now and then?

The smuggish patrons, back in line, are giving me the stare.

They’re prob’ly thinkin’, “Poor cowboy.” I hurry out of there!

I’m addin’ up my purchases. Looks like four hundred bucks. And with the Gov’ner’s share I’m in the class of stupid clucks.

I burned the Visa card receipt, so that should take care of it from where I stand. I’m wonderin’ now if my warm feet are worth the half a grand?

By NTFR Staff

If you’ve spent any time on social media this summer, you’ve probably seen the debate. Some gardeners insist you should water only before sunrise. Others swear by evening watering. A few even claim watering during the heat of the day will burn your plants.

With temperatures climbing into the 90s and often higher in Oklahoma and North Texas, it’s easy to second-guess yourself when your tomato plants start drooping by lunchtime. Timing matters, but it’s only one part of keeping a garden healthy, and how you water can make a bigger difference than when.

For most gardens, early morning is the best time to water. Between about 5 and 9 a.m., temperatures are cooler, winds are usually lighter and less water evaporates. Plants have time to absorb moisture before the hottest part of the day, which helps them handle the afternoon heat. Any water that splashes onto the leaves also has time to dry, which reduces the chance of fungal diseases.

Not everyone has time to water before work or before the sun comes up. If evening is the only time that fits your schedule, don’t worry. A garden that gets a thorough watering in the evening is far better off than one left dry while you wait for the “perfect” time.

If you water late in the day, aim the water at the soil instead of spraying the foliage. Leaves that stay wet overnight can encourage certain plant diseases, especially when humidity is high.

Midday watering is fine, too, despite a long-standing gardening myth. Water droplets generally do not act like tiny magnifying glasses that scorch leaves, and research shows it isn’t a significant concern in home gardens. The drawback is efficiency. During the hottest part of the day, more water evaporates before it reaches the root zone. Still, if a plant is badly wilted and the soil is dry, don’t wait until evening. Watering right away beats letting the plant keep suffering from heat and drought stress.

Many gardeners make the mistake of watering on a schedule instead of checking the soil. Plants can wilt temporarily in extreme afternoon heat even when they have plenty of moisture underground.

Before reaching for the hose, push your finger a couple of inches into the soil. If it still feels cool and moist, your plants probably don’t need water yet. If it’s dry, give them a drink.

How you water matters as much as when. A slow, deep soaking encourages roots to grow farther into the soil, where moisture lasts longer. Frequent light watering keeps roots near the surface, which leaves plants more vulnerable in hot weather.

Soaker hoses and drip irrigation systems are excellent choices because they deliver water straight to the roots and lose very little to evaporation.

Mulch can become one of your best summer gardening tools. A two- to three-inch layer of shredded leaves, straw, untreated grass clippings or wood mulch keeps the soil cooler, slows evaporation and cuts down on weeds that compete for moisture. In many gardens, mulch can noticeably reduce how often you need to water.

Every garden is a little different. Soil type, plant varieties, sunlight, wind and rainfall all affect how fast moisture disappears. Sandy soils dry out faster than heavy clay, and containers often need water much more often than plants growing in the ground.

Pay attention to your garden instead of following a strict calendar. Check the soil regularly, water deeply when needed and don’t panic if your vegetables look a little tired during the hottest part of the afternoon. Many will perk right back up once temperatures fall.

Consistency matters more than perfection. Whether you water before sunrise or after supper, giving your plants the moisture they need and delivering it deep to the roots will help your garden stay healthier through the toughest days of summer.

By Annette Bridges

In September 2022, I wrote a column titled “Merry Maui Cows,” featuring a photograph of me with a group of Maui cows grazing in a seaside pasture.

This photo was taken in that same spot a few weeks ago, in March 2026.

Standing there again, looking out over that green hillside rolling toward the ocean, I couldn’t help but smile. I’m quite certain those cows were just as merry then as they are now, and I realized I am, too.

My husband and I had returned to Maui to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary.

Forty-five years! I can hardly say it out loud without wondering where in the world the time has gone. The years flew by, and yet so much life happened in them: joys, challenges, ordinary days and unforgettable moments, the kind of life that shapes you.

This trip carried an extra layer of celebration for me. Since that first “Merry Maui Cows” photo, I’ve lost over fifty pounds. I found myself happily shopping for new tropical clothes, smiling in dressing rooms and picking up sizes I hadn’t worn in years. It was lighthearted fun, but it also meant something deeper to me. Change is still possible, even later in life.

At this stage of life, birthdays and anniversaries feel less like markers of time passing and more like invitations to look back, take stock and notice what has changed and what has stayed the same.

When I placed my new photo beside the one from 2022, I noticed the differences, of course. What stood out most was what hadn’t changed. I was still merry, and those two simple words felt like a quiet declaration.

Being “still merry” after years of life, with all its beauty and difficulty, says something. It says we’ve held onto joy and chosen gratitude. It says we’ve weathered what needed weathering and still found reasons to smile.

Life doesn’t stay the same, and it isn’t meant to. We get seasons of ease and seasons of challenge, moments that take your breath away and moments that take your strength. Through all of it, we can carry a steady thread of merriness forward.

It may be quiet, and life may be far from perfect, but I’m still merry. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe it’s everything.