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Marjorie Smith's avatar

Despite the fact that my maternal grandfather raised beef cattle and I gres up in Montana, I got my first pair of cowboy boots when I was 18. My then-boyfriend's father bought them for me along with a cowboy hat, appropriate pants and shirt so I could represent his ranch in a Dude Ranch Queen Contest during the local rodeo. He also let me ride a wonderful horse who knew all about prancing down a street in a parade as well as how to run a barrel race. (I didn't win the queenship, but I did not disgrace Karst's Ranch.) I didn't wear my boots as a college student but as a young bride feeling very much out of my element in Boston, I put them on one night to stomp around Beacon Hill to demonstrate that I didn't care if I was a hick from the sticks. Years later, after I joined the foreign service and again felt a little out of my element, I took pleasure in stomping around the basement at the State Department in my cowboy boots when I went across the river from where I was learning Thai language. Hmmm. I'm thinking maybe it's time to invest in a new pair to express my feelings about this whole becoming elderly business!

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Lisa Rosenberg's avatar

Great piece!

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