“Thanks again, doc,” Bill said, as we turned, dusted off our Stetsons and made our way to dad’s truck. Dad just waved and smiled, but I knew he ...as pissed. That mare was a bitch to handle. He had had enough for that day. Dad was a real man’s man. He was about five-ten or so with short light brown hair. His hazel eyes set off his handsome and now slightly lined face. He was masculine without having to talk about it. His bull neck and broad shoulders tapered down to a thin waist and a tight and. It was easy to see that the loss of her husband was a source of deep sorrow.I also learned that she was only going to be around for a couple more days. Her cousin's vacation time was up and he had to return to work.Now it was my turn to be sad.Suddenly, I spotted a flash of pink. I looked out to see that a spoonbill had landed in a little bay, a short distance from our picnic table. I pointed it out to Anna and her eyes opened wide."What bird?" she asked."It's a spoonbill. Notice the wide. More

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