I don’t usually let strangers get to me, but today almost pushed me over the edge.
It started at the feed store when the clerk assumed I was lost and then asked if my “husband” would be loading my truck. I’ve been running my 240-acre ranch alone for years, fixing water lines, birthing calves, and hauling hay. Yet people still assume I can’t handle it because I’m a woman.
Even my neighbor, Roy, treats me like I’m pretending to be a rancher. I’ve patched his water line in a snowstorm, yet he still offers patronizing advice.
