This is a poem I wrote many years ago when my children were still little and money was tight. That year for Christmas they received a ton of socks, and they weren't exactly excited about it.  Socks come in pairs - may you always have someone to sha...

Now, let me paint you a picture of Hank, a classic cowboy in a black hat, boots worn down from years of dancing around trouble, and a talent for spinning tales so tall you’d need a ladder to poke holes in them. One fine Saturday morning, Hank kissed...

Jed McCallister considered himself a master of cowboy shenanigans. He’d pulled off some legendary pranks—swapping out a fella’s saddle with a rocking horse, sneaking jalapeños into the chuckwagon biscuits, and even replacing the town sheriff’s coffe...

Spurs jingled like tiny alarm clocks as the doors of the Dusty Comet Saloon swung wide and in swaggered Hank “sure-thing” Mallory. He had a haircut that suggested confidence and boots that suggested poor decision-making. He tipped his black hat...

A few years back, I was living the dream as a store manager at a well-known convenience store chain. If you’ve never worked one of these temples of chaos, let me give you the lay of the land: candy racks stacked from waist-high to floor-level, aisle...