500 Posts and Still Rarin'

This post marks number #500 for Texas Trifles. Could have sworn it was closer to #1000, but that's counting the mucked out fodder.

One of my favorite poets, Robert Frost, frames this occasion just right:

A Time to Talk

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

And that just the way I feel about Texas Trifles.

Ya'll come by more often. I'll always meet you at the stone wall.