Ranches around here consist of hundreds, and in the case of several of our neighbors, thousands of acres. A whole lot of land, for miles and miles in all directions. One ranching family south of us made a spot for their parents, the original owners of the now-three generations of ranchers. It's a spot set up high(er) on a flat of bedrock, overlooking some of the thousands of acres off to the west, south, and north. There are two chairs and a small bistro table, right out in the middle of nowhere and central to everything out in the Flint Hills: The Shamrock Cafe: Always Open. That Spouse o' Mine and I visited last weekend, in the 20º cool of January.
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