Excellando, Jenny! I found your paragraph -
The road to Lightning Flat went through desolate country past a dozen abandoned ranches distributed over the plain at eight- and ten-mile intervals, houses sitting blank-eyed in the weeds, corral fences down. The mailbox read John C. Twist. The ranch was a meagre little place, leafy spurge taking over. The stock was too far distant for him to see their condition, only that they were black baldies. A porch stretched across the front of the tiny brown stucco house, four rooms, two down, two up.
Are we almost out of numbers? What's next - letters? LOL. Colors? Verbs? Emotions? Some kind of MadLibs? Did you ever play that? That might be cute.