Soon, Steve will arrive at the Top House carrying a platter of brisket for our dinner. Yesterday he phoned to ask if we would be at home, as he was intending to smoke meat today and he wanted to being us dinner. He will arrive in his old truck, wearing old jeans and a T shirt and carrying a can of beer. In all the years we have known him I have never seen him without his can of beer. It is part of his official uniform. Every time we see him he looks to have acquired more gray hair. He is always polite and gracious and very country. He calls me either Maam or Mrs. Dickie, never Ruth.
Steve looks after our cattle. He lives along 385 which is not far away. He takes the calves to auction when asked and checks on the cattle when we are not here. He selected our new bull. And he is a jack of all trade. He likes to be busy and he is a hard worker. When we first met him, he was working for the Texas Department of Transportation but he wanted to quit. But the Muckleroys and us convinced him to stay working with them, because of their pension. He listened to us and stayed working but he prefers to be on his own. "They do not work hard enough", says Steve. When you drive into his property you find multiple pieces of equipment in the midst of being repaired. He will also be working on his house. There are always another project.
We will enjoy his brisket tonight but most of all we enjoy having Steve live just down the road and looking after the cattle. He is a one in a million.
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