There are dreams that don’t just live in your mind— They take hold of you. They settle into your chest, they run through your blood, and before long, They’re the only thing your thoughts know how to circle back to. Out here, dreams look like cattle. Like land stretched wide under a sky that doesn’t promise anything. Like numbers that have to work, and years that have to hold. We don’t just dream for ourselves. We dream for our families. For a future we may never fully see—

Full spoken poem of Monday's Loss & Monday's Gain. The story of Monday, 2/23/26. Another week has passed since I wrote this poem. Just a few days before this, I had shared that we had purchased three new bred heifers from down the road at Producers' Livestock in Vale, OR, and branded them before I went into work that day. We were so proud of ourselves for knocking it out, doing it together, and moving on with the day. Bought on a Wednesday, branded on a Thursday, and then tur

An inaugural vocal excerpt from the poem "In the Choosing" is combined with personal photos of life on the ranch. Welcome back to The Grit Journal (Mama 👋🏻😆) ! If you're not my sweet Mama, and aren't related to me at all - double welcome, Green Broke! I hope you found me on purpose, not by force, and that you didn't have to read anything that didn't make sense to you. Via con Dios if you're here against your will. But also, thank you! Between my Monday–Friday day job in H