I can't even tell you how bad I wish I had some sassy cowboy boots to wear with this horse sweater that is currently rocking my world. And maybe a cowboy hat. And thicker, longer hair that I can wear in a long braid or pony tail that would blow in the wind as I stood on my porch and surveyed my ranch at the base of the Grand Tetons. Oh, and George Straight would be there, and he would serenade me while I cooked cherry cobbler in the dutch oven by the fire (you know, on my ranch), and he would tell me how he likes my sweater too, since, he is a horse person like me, except, he rides them, and I, well, wear them.
But, we shouldn't put the cart before the horse.
I mean, I'll stop horse-ing around.
Ok fine, here's the sweater:
Now I gotta go, I'm starved. You might say I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.
Ok, no more horse jokes. I mean, you actually read this post even after all those horse jokes, and you stuck with me with such loyalty, and I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Sorry, I really couldn't help that last one. It was so obvious.
ox. W.
