Grave Digger Better Dig Two At The Ranch Pen


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image via

Gramps and I have been teamed up for thirty-three years this week. We got hitched when we were babes in our teens and even though we’re getting a little grey around the muzzles it’s still a good lash-up.

In our teens, our romance was a wild adventure pretty much all the time:

Danni: Oh, I love you, you wonderful hunk of burning love. (smooch, smooch)

Gramps: Yee Haw.

In year thirty-three, we’ve made a few adjustments:

Danni: (groaning with aches and pains, collapses into the old people bed operated by digital controls ) Night, Gramps. Love you.

Gramps: Huh?

Danni: Sleep good. Love you.

Gramps: Yeah, I did.

Danni: (stares into the dark trying to figure out which wire got crossed there) What?

Gramps: I did put the dog up. Remember…she peed on the carpet?

Danni: (mutters) Oh, my goodness he’s getting deaf as a post. (bellows into Gramps’ hairy ear) I said I love you, is what I said!

Gramps: Oh. Well, then. Yee Haw…

Danni and Gramps balanced for a selfie on the edge (literally) of the Royal Gorge, Colorado

(incidentally, a fly from the outhouse up the hill from us in that picture–the stinkiest known to man–had buzzed into my ear, giving me vertigo. No one needs vertigo while teetering on the edge of a one-thousand-foot drop. Or Gramps’ unhelpful commentary. Very hard to get a professional looking selfie in those conditions)

Until next time, God bless all y’all while Gramps hikes his best britches up under his armpits and I pluck my chin hair so we can head out to celebrate and live on the edge some more.

And to m’dear KG, I thank God every day for hitching me to you. You are a good man and I wouldn’t change a thing. I dedicate this song by The Band Perry, Better Dig Two, to you because, well…that’s just the way it is.


*These artists don’t necessarily endorse the blog, I just like ’em.

Celebrating Thirty-two Years Of Marriage At The Ranch Pen

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Aw…Aren’t those kids cute? The youngster on the left was sixteen and the one on the right was nineteen.

That’s right. Gramps and I are celebrating thirty-two years of wedded bliss this week. We attribute our enduring lash-up to several things, one of which is…both of us are still alive! Another: Gramps wasn’t named Gramps way back then or I probably wouldn’t have married him. Sixteen-year-old girls can be so shallow.

But all joking aside, we attribute our long marriage to our faith in God. When we took our vows in front of Him and everybody we accepted them as binding until one of us quit breathing. We’ve hit a rough patch or two, but no matter how rough the road, divorce has never been an option to us.

Looking back on those green kids from our perch on the tree of middle-age makes us smile. Neither of us regret that young love and marriage for an instant.

And Gramps? I thank God for you and if I had it to do again, I’d dive right back in with you.


One of the infamous iPhone mug shots

Married, or unmarried, God bless all y’all and enjoy our wedding song, Til the Rivers All Run Dry by Don Williams and some cool cats in his band.


*These artists don’t necessarily endorse my blog, I just like ‘em.

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