Free Cowgirl Up! by Carolyn Anderson Jones Page A

5-gallon containers.
     
    Sam’s grandma didn’t die of a heart attack or stroke. She fell and broke her hip. While she was in the hospital, a blood clot hit her heart and she died instantly. Her grandpa was eighty and arthritis was making it difficult for him to get around, so her mom moved him into Sam’s old bedroom. Living with his daughter and son-in-law was a big adjustment for her grandpa. Sam thought the thing he missed most, besides Grandma, was her cooking. About a week after he settled into their house he drove to Sam’s Club and bought a 5-gallon container of cooking oil.
     
    After getting dressed, Sam and Dundee walked over to her parent’s house. As Sam crossed the yard she could see Rosie and Sage, her brother’s Quarter Horse and dad’s Tennessee Walker, grazing in the pasture. Misfit, her mom’s huge black cat, was sprawled out across Rosie’s back soaking up the warm sunshine. Misfit spent her mornings chasing mice in their barn and her afternoons napping on Rosie’s back. Rosie was close to thirty and nothing bothered her much anymore. Not even a twenty pound cat using her back as a mattress.
     
    Sage, her dad’s younger and spirited Tennessee Walker, wasn’t as tolerant of the overweight, arrogant feline as Rosie was. No one knew why, except perhaps Misfit came from a long line of purebred psycho cats, but sometimes she would wait until Sage got close and then jump on his back. All hell would break loose. Somehow Misfit managed to hang on until Sage rolled over on his back and that would send the cat running for cover. Then things would get back to normal until Misfit had another spurt of insanity.
     
    Sam and Dundee bounced through the back door into her parent’s huge kitchen. Sam loved that kitchen. It was the heart of their home. There was an island in the middle, a fireplace on one end and French doors on the other that opened out to a large covered patio. It was cozy in winter and cool in summer. Sam grabbed a cup and was pouring coffee into it when her grandpa came in to fix his breakfast.
     
    “Hi Grandpa,” Sam greeted him.
     
    “Hey, sugar.” He smiled and hugged her.
     
    Sam sat down at the kitchen table and Dundee went in search for Mason.
     
    Sam watched as her grandpa got his oil out and poured several cups in a skillet. He cracked two eggs and turned the burner on high. Oil started popping everywhere. After the eggs were saturated and cooked just right, he slapped them on a plate with toast slathered with margarine and sat down to eat.
     
    He forgot to turn the burner off, so Sam jumped up, moved the pan and shut it off. Spattered grease covered the stove and cabinets. Some of the grease had spilled over and was collecting in the pan under the burner.
     
    “Do you think maybe one inch of oil would be okay to fry those eggs in rather than ten?” Sam asked her grandpa with a smile
     
    He grinned and shook his head. “This is the way I always eat ‘em,” he told her.
     
    Sam’s mom came into the kitchen and groaned. She grabbed the skillet with a pot holder and took it outside to pour out the grease. She came back in and filled her sink with hot sudsy water and put the skillet in it. Then she got out a bottle of degreaser and sprayed down her stove and cabinets.
     
    Sam’s grandpa finished his breakfast and put his plate in the sink. Then he leaned over, kissed his daughter on her cheek and walked back toward the den. Sam’s mom shook her head and laughed.
     
    “He’s going to burn this house down someday if I don’t watch him.”
     
    Sam smiled and nodded her head. “Guess he’s too old to change his ways now. Just keep a close eye on him.”
     
    “Don’t worry. I keep both eyes on him.”
     

     
    LATER THAT DAY, Sam’s mom called her.
     
    “Come over for dinner,” she said. “Your dad and I are going to make our specialty, Pasta Primavera. If you don’t want that you can have a hamburger with your grandpa and Mason. They won’t eat pasta