There is something about the middle of March in New Mexico.
The weather abruptly turns perfect for a day or two.
Morning chores are done without a coat, afternoon rides are taken in a t shirt,
and the first official happy hour of the year commences on the porch.
A glass of pinot grigio is a refreshing treat in the heat of the late afternoon.
For a moment, I thought Johnny had developed a taste for wine...
...but I suspect he was more interested in the first fly of the season, who was swimming in my glass.
Johnny: I cannot believe you're still going to drink that.