Whenever my family would spend time with my grandparents, the gatherings always ended with someone asking, “Grandma, tell me a story.”

These enchanting tales included accounts of covered wagons heading west and real cowboys and cowgirls living on ranches on the western slope of Colorado. We heard stories about ranch life, sheep camps, and families helping families. Although the family no longer lived in that beautiful state, as children, we believed it had to be the most magical place in the world to live!

The adults, grandparents, aunts, uncles, mom, and dad would sit on the couch or remaining chairs while the grandchildren would sit on the floor, as close as they could to the woman they adored. No one wanted to miss a single word. Although we often heard the same tales repeatedly, we would still sit quietly and listen; we loved hearing about these adventures.

Sometimes, little ones would speak up and ask questions, or the other adults would chime in while giving their side of the story. Those days gave us a sense of pride and direction as we listened to the stories about how it all started.

Those precious days connected us to an extended family line we never even knew! Still, we loved our heritage and our stories. In my life, I have been blessed with little ones, grandchildren who call me Honey, and I wanted to preserve the old stories for all to enjoy.

I have dedicated this sweet journey to my precious little ones: my daughter Leslie and her husband, Aaron, and all my glorious grandbabies: Mathew, Cameron, Sierra, Jessica, Kylie, Connor, and Jaxon. I have always hoped you will enjoy these tales and the history of how it all began.