Country Lifestyle
To Everything There is a Season
I love how Oklahoma definitely has all four seasons. Sometimes it may not seem like much of a break in between season’s. The weather can be blustery one winter day and the very next day it’s eighty degrees and we are wearing shorts, wondering how we skipped past Spring. Hang on, because lo and behold, the next day we wake up to the sound of Spring showers!
Spring is refreshing. Time to open up those windows and let the house breathe a little. Spring also represents fresh starts, new life. Spring to our soul, is the season of our youth. We celebrate our little sprouts and they quickly start growing like weeds. Full of energy and reckless abandon. This is the time when we instill firm foundations, so their little roots can grow deep and strong. If cultivated and fed properly, these baby birds will be happy and healthy when they leave the nest.
Remember the little rhyme we chanted on the last day of school, “No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks. school is over, school is done, no more learning, lets have some fun.” Everyone looked forward to Summer. Summer is the time for enjoyment, rest and to just simply be in the moment. Summer to the soul means you have arrived; Adulthood. Adulthood where, more than likely, most have chosen a career and are married with children. You are in the prime of your life, you can get up from a chair without making a noise, creaking or groaning. Summer isn’t hurried or worried. The summer season is fun and not heavy. If you fall you have time to get back up. If you’ve made some bad decisions, some financial mishaps, married the wrong soul mate, or can’t seem to move from your mother’s basement, if you have steered your ship in the wrong direction, do not fret, it’s still summer and you have time to turn around, get back on course or choose a new one.
When you have children, you relish the time when school starts back up in the fall, if only for the mere fact that routines get established and lives get organized. Fall to our soul is as much of the same thing. We know what we like, we have our routines, our life is organized just the way we like it. There is so much beauty in the Fall, the air is crisp, and refreshing. If you are a football fan, you have been waiting with anticipation all year, for kick off. That’s the same feeling we have when we finally reach the Fall stage of life. If you have planned well then the saying “Autumn carries more gold in its pockets than any other season.” has two meanings. In this season of life most generally we are setting our minds on retiring. Readying ourselves to reap everything we’ve been sowing. We’ve given our children roots to grow and wings to fly. The nest is empty. You can walk around your house naked. This is also the time to check your storehouses and make ready for the winter. Fall is my favorite season, what’s not to love, sweaters, scarves, jackets, boots, apple cider, comfort food, cool breezes and bonfires. A time when we slow down and relish the beauty in the landscape. Not only do the leaves change colors but more than likely so does our hair.
In the fall stage of life you reminisce about the good old days of summer, but not near as much as you do when you reach the winter season of life. If you spend your time harvesting wisely during the fall, then winter will not be a bitter cold season. Winter is the time we usually retreat indoors and aren’t as active as the seasons in the past. Winter of the soul is a time for us to extend grace to our families. Winter wraps up the calendar year, it’s also the last of our season’s of life. Winter holds my favorite holiday; Christmas. A time when my family comes together, in one place. The festivities of the holidays build all month long. Christmas dinner has been lovingly prepared, eaten and all the dishes are washed and put away, gifts have been opened and the wrappings in the trash. Any time all my family is sleeping under one roof, is when I sleep the best. Everyone is home safe and sound. Christmas night, it seems everyone sleeps in peace. That’s how I hope that it will be when my winter is over, resting in peace.
I would say the season I’m currently in is late fall. I’m slowing down. I’m reminiscing more. I’m about halfway through, scrapbooking my life. I’m trying to do a little everyday so I can finish up before I start forgetting where we were and what we were doing. This is a very relaxing part of my season. I don’t put as much pressure on myself as I used to. Somedays I just curl up in my chair and read.
I rejoice in the fact that I’ve loaded my last load of cows. It takes way too long for my body to recoup after a day of working cows. I have said this before but, this time I mean it. So when my Redneck Romeo gets around to reading this article, he will see it in writing and ya’ll are all my witnesses. I’m a retired ranch hand, from here on out.
One big thing I’ve noticed, in this season of my life is my calendar is pretty empty looking, except for doctors appointments and mani/pedi appointments. So I guess it looks like I’m retired. With new ailments you have new doctor’s appointments. A line on the paperwork that really stood out to me recently was where it asks for your occupation. I studied this for a moment, and wrote the words “retired.” In my summer season, I wrote “housewife” where it asked for my occupation. After many years of marriage and three children in their late teens, I changed my occupation to “Domestic Goddess” which usually brought a laugh and a little conversation. I thought that would make me stand out, you know, be remembered easily. Now that my kids are all grown with children and lives of their own, I felt it would be legitimate, in my fall season to write “retired” the next time I came across this question.
At the hospital for a stress test, the paperwork was placed in front of me, I breezed right through it, and proudly wrote “retired” on the correct line. While on the treadmill, the nurse asked me questions, which is about the equivalent as the dentist expecting you to answer a question with his hands in your mouth. The treadmill had just elevated in the front and increased its speed. I’m doing my best to keep up the pace and breathe, when she decides to chit chat, “Your paperwork says you’re retired, where did you retire from?” The whole time we’ve been chit chatting I’ve been giving one word answers, now I realized I would have to squeeze out five words, “I was a Domestic Goddess” and I tried my best to look her way with a smile. This is where things got a little fuzzy, the next thing I remember is laying on the gurney with oxygen in my nose, and the ladies smiling down at me. As if nothing had happened, I immediately explained, “I started out as a housewife, was promoted to Domestic Goddess, and now I’ve reached the age of “retired.” Yes, I did make the little quotations with my fingers when I said the words “retired.” I felt an awkward silence except for my heart beating in my ears, from now on, I’m just going to claim my occupation as “Old but Gold”
Life’s seasons are full of mountain top highs and valley lows. We often hear “Life is short… better enjoy it!” But don’t miss this, “Eternity is long… better prepare for it!”
We all make mistakes, and no one is perfect. “Bloom where you’re planted” is great advice but, sometimes flowers that need full sun get planted in the shade, no matter how much they want to thrive it just won’t happen. Be courageous and make changes! For me, I have found that living at the end of this dirt road is where I bloom the best, in the peace and quiet, where the cows outnumber the people. I pray each of you bloom during each season of your life. Wherever you find yourself at this moment, take time to drink it in and savor the moment.
Country Lifestyle
Tracks in the Sand
By Savannah Magoteaux
This morning, I walked out into my arena and noticed something that gave me pause. The roping steers had been in there the day before, and even though the ground was wide and level, the dirt carried their story. Hoofprints crossed every direction, but in several spots, the same trail was pressed deeper than the rest. Twelve steers had been turned out, yet more than a few chose the exact same path, wearing it down until it stood out from all the other tracks.
Cattle are creatures of habit. Anyone who has spent time around them knows this. They like routine: the same feed, the same water trough, the same shade tree in the pasture. When they are turned loose, they rarely wander without purpose. More often than not, they move together, following the same course as the steer in front of them. There are reasons for this: efficiency, safety, instinct. Walking a beaten path conserves energy, and following the herd is their natural defense. Even in an arena with no real destination, those instincts come through. By the end of a short turnout, you will see the evidence, lines where they have chosen the easiest way to travel and stuck with it.
Out on the range, those lines last longer. Before fences and highways, cattle drives cut deep paths across the land. The Chisholm Trail, which carried herds north from Texas through Oklahoma into Kansas, was walked by millions of cattle in the late 1800s. More than a century later, faint traces of those trails remain, worn so deep by hooves and wagon wheels that the land still carries the mark. On ranches today, you can see the same effect in pastures where cattle walk the same lines between water and grazing. From the ground, those trails might look like nothing more than dusty ruts, but from the air, they sometimes stand out as sharp lines winding through otherwise open fields. Cattle do not simply pass over the land; they shape it. Every step adds up.
That simple truth extends beyond livestock. We all make tracks. Our habits and routines are our trails, worn in by repetition, sometimes efficient, sometimes limiting. Like the cow paths, they can serve a purpose, keeping us steady and helping us move forward. But when repeated without thought, they risk becoming ruts, keeping us from stepping into new ground. History offers perspective here, too. The old cattle trails built towns and economies, but once railroads and fences changed the landscape, those paths were no longer helpful. Sticking to them would have meant going in circles. Progress required something new.
The Tracks We Leave
Standing in the arena, I thought about the kind of tracks I leave behind. Most of mine are not visible in the dirt. They are pressed into my daily life, how I work, the way I handle challenges, and the example I set. Some are helpful and worth keeping. Others may have outlived their purpose. The difference lies in knowing when to stay on the track and when to step off it.
Tomorrow I will drag the arena and smooth it all clean again. The next time the steers are turned in, they will make the same trails. That is their nature. But unlike them, I have a choice. I can decide which paths are worth walking, which ones to change, and what kind of tracks I want to leave for others who might follow.
Tracks tell a story. Sometimes they are only temporary, fading with the next rain. Other times, they last for generations, reminders of where herds and people once walked. This morning, the cattle showed me again that even the smallest things on the ranch carry meaning. Their tracks in the arena were not just marks in the dirt. They are a lesson showing that every step matters, and the paths we choose shape more than just the ground beneath our feet.
References
Jordan, T. G. Trails to Texas: Southern Roots of Western Cattle Ranching. University of Nebraska Press, 1981.
Frantz, J. B. “The Chisholm Trail.” Handbook of Texas Online, Texas State Historical Association.
Bailey, C. “Animal Behavior and Herd Dynamics in Cattle.” Oklahoma State University Extension, 2019.
National Park Service. “Chisholm Trail: Herding Cattle and History.” https://www.nps.gov
Country Lifestyle
Apple Fritter Quick Bread
Total Time: 1 hour and 40 minutes
Servings: 10
2 medium apples (any type), peeled, cored & diced
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup milk
For the Glaze:
- 1/2 cup (60g) powdered sugar
1–2 tbsp milk
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and line a 9×5-inch loaf pan with parchment paper.
Peel and chop apples and place in a bowl with brown sugar and cinnamon. Toss and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and granulated sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time, then add vanilla. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder. Gradually add dry ingredients to the butter mixture, alternating with milk, mixing until just combined.
Next, pour half of the batter into the loaf pan, top with half of the apple mixture, then repeat with remaining batter and apples. Lightly swirl with a knife for a marbled effect.
Bake for 50–55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
In a small bowl, whisk together powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla until smooth. Drizzle over cooled bread.
Slice and enjoy warm or at room temperature.
Country Lifestyle
From Savior to Lord
At a funeral I went to recently, the preacher said something that has stayed with me. He reminded us that, for the man we were honoring, God went from being Savior to Lord.
That phrase captures a turning point in faith. When we first come to know Christ, it’s with gratitude for His saving grace. It’s personal, almost inward-looking: Jesus rescued me. He forgave me. He gave me new life. In that moment, He is our Savior.
But faith is not meant to remain only in the relief of salvation. Over time, we are called to move from simply being saved to truly being led. To call Jesus Lord is to hand Him the reins, to let Him set the course. It means the decisions we make, the way we spend our time, and even the way we handle hardship reflect His authority instead of our own desires.
That shift isn’t dramatic or loud — it’s usually lived out in the everyday. It’s choosing honesty when cutting corners would be easier. It’s setting aside pride to serve others. It’s holding firm in values even when the world says compromise. It’s forgiving, even when it costs something.
And for people who work the land or care for animals, this truth feels especially close. We know what it means to trust something bigger than ourselves — the rain, the soil, the cattle in our care. A rancher can do everything right, but at the end of the day, much is still beyond his control. Faith works the same way. We can’t stop at receiving salvation like a safety net. We have to surrender daily, trusting God to lead, provide, and direct, even when we don’t know what’s ahead.
Scripture asks it plainly: “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46). The challenge is clear — it isn’t enough to know God as Savior. We are called to live with Him as Lord.
Salvation is the beginning, but lordship is the journey. And just like tending a crop or training a good rope horse, it’s a steady, daily process. Rescue is where faith starts. Surrender is where it grows strong.
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