He was just big and burly and he he carried it all well and I adored him. He wasn't lean and athletic but well muscled from working the ranch all his life and had a nice layer of fat and a bit of a belly from eating too well and drinking beer. Dad, Henry Sr., was 6 feet 6 inches of big as a bear cowboy with wide shoulders, a thick sturdy frame carrying something like 300 pounds. There were men of all shapes and sizes in our town but what drew me in was the big burly men not unlike my own daddy. They were my heros growing up and as I got older, my eye candy. I was just a little cowpoke then so my infatuation with the Cowboys and cattlemen seemed innocent at the time. I knew I was different from a young age and always stared in wonderment at the big, tall, brawny ranchers and cow hands when we were in town for supplies and groceries. I learned to ride and rope and worked along side my father and the hired hands as soon as I was old enough to stay in the saddle. My mom and dad raised me on about 1000 acres of old family property where we raised cattle and a few horses. I grew up a country boy in an east Texas ranching community about as far away from a large city as you can get.
