Cowboy Hide and Seek

Anyone who has ever lived, worked, or fed anyone on a ranch knows this game well. It begins with a phone call; someone needs lunch, parts, fuel, first aid, help, etc etc and hopefully includes a current location. From there on it is up to you. You are it. Find the Cowboy.

First thing you do is round up whatever item it is they have requested, this time it was jumper cables, and determine if you have enough fuel in the correct vehicle.  Once I did that, I headed for the last known location.  

Of course no one was there when I got there but they had left behind some very important clues. Tire tracks. They can tell you a lot at this point. General direction being one, what vehicle you’re looking for is two, and are they loaded or unloaded for three. Today I’m looking for the black Ford Ranger that was rumored to be in the Allard Home. He couldn't have gone far as like I said, he needed jumper cables. 

If you’re lucky enough to find your quarry has traveled via a gravel road you simply look to see what side the tracks are on. That will tell you what general direction they are headed, however if they have traveled cross country you will need to look at the grass. This was my clue today. The tires had pushed the grass over to point me on my way. I scanned the field in the direction the grass was pointing only to find a complete lack of a stranded Ranger.  There was only one set of tracks therefore I knew he hadn't left the field yet. I got back into my truck and ventured on.

Our irrigation is gravity fed from local reservoirs and occasionally you need to cross a ditch. This is another good way to cipher out what direction you need to head. The first crossing I came to lacked any tire tracks so I moved on. I finally found the familiar chunky treads of the supposedly stranded Ranger 3 or 4 crossings later looking to be on its way into the next field. Cursing myself for leaving the binoculars at the house I stand up in the bed of the truck to try and get a better view. I’m pretty short and the grass was thin here and hard to read. The binoculars would have come in handy.

There, on the other side of the next field over, closing the gates on the same stack yard I had sworn never to visit again, was the Cowboy in question. The husband and I had a run in with a porcupine at that stack yard last winter resulting in a broken tongue, 4 scared shiftless Percheron horses, and a 5 mile walk back to the ranch. Not something I’d like to repeat thank you very much.  Quietly stowing my porcupine phobia away by telling myself there were no horses involved today, I hop back in the cab of my truck and point myself in the correct general direction.

“This is not the Allard Home” I playfully remark to Ben as I lift the hood of my truck. “Yea?” He says questioningly, gazing around as if this were the Allard Home 5 minutes ago and he’s confused as to why it isn't anymore, “well it’s a good job you found me then”.   I’m parked nose to nose with his stranded Ranger and the minute I attach the negative cable I realize why it has become so. I grin as Anthrax or some other metal band comes blaring from the open windows, pushing the factory speakers further than they have ever been pushed before. I too have run dead the occasional battery while buried in good music, or NPR. Does that make me boring that I have actually run a battery dead listening to National Public Radio? I hope not, but I digress. Ben gets in his stranded Ranger then, as if having a sudden thought, leans out the open window to shout over the blaring guitars and feedback “What field is this then?”  I’m not 100% sure myself but I don’t want to look like an amateur so I knowingly shout back “Lower Field” thinking I have heard Peter call it that once before. He throws me a look as if to say “note to self”, and reaches for the key. 

The Ranger starts right up and I bade him good bye as I toss the cables back into the truck. He has more stack yards to close and I likewise have things to do. Bouncing across the ditches heading back to the house I mentally put another mark on my score card. Find the Cowboy for today is over and I win yet again.

Homemade

I stare out of the kitchen window peering through my binoculars watching the road. I am expecting a package today and the truck bringing it to me is late. It’s no wonder with the latest weather over Rabbit Ears Pass. These binoculars are usually reserved for watching cows calve, watching for the hubby to come home from a hard day at work, or for making sure the children aren't killing each other out in the pasture.  

Today I am watching for UPS. The special gift he holds for me a Junxifu Pasta maker with adjustable pasta roller, 4 different cutting plates and chrome plating. Oh the possibilities he brings. I can make spaghetti, fettuccine, lasagna noodles, and even ravioli noodles. If I could make that sound old Jerry Clower makes when he gets worked up, I’d be making it right now. How about that sound Tim the "Tool-man" Taylor makes when talking about “Man Stuff”.  UPS not only holds the key to savings (it should pay for itself in about 43 years) but it also holds my family’s well being.

Who knows what really goes into the food you buy? Just because it say’s “flour eggs milk salt” on the box doesn't always mean that’s what’s inside. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for convenience foods, but where do you draw the line. When we moved out to the Ranch a year and a half ago I started making my bread from scratch. Sometimes in a pinch I’ll buy a loaf of “Floppy Bread” as my family calls it, but not very often. They prefer the homemade stuff. From bread to biscuits and cake to pasta they want it real and un-messed around with. Maybe I spoiled them but I don’t really care. This is how I show my love.

I put Yorkshire Puddings on the table in front of my English husband and he knows I was thinking of him while cracking the eggs and beating in the milk. I show up at school with cupcakes decorated like clowns and my birthday boy knows I had just him in mind. When I ask “what would you like for supper?” and the answer is “spag ball” (spaghetti) my family probably won't think about the hours spent peeling and chopping the garlic and onions, sauteing the meat, simmering the sauce forever and now making the pasta, and that's OK. I do it because I know that’s just how they like it.

I put my love into each onion I chop, into each loaf of bread I bake, and into each pie I conjure. Sometimes the gratitude doesn't quite get vocalized but when the English muffins are gone the next day, when a boy is hanging with his head in the fridge looking for the chokecherry jelly, and when boys are fighting over who gets the last Yorkshire Pudding, that is when I get my thank yous.   

My UPS guy finally did show up with my Junxifu and we indeed had homemade pasta for lunch the next day. Homemade does not always mean cheaper, faster, or easier. However, it always means more. More to me, more to them, and that’s why I do it.   

I'm dreaming of a white October!

Cradling my coffee cup in my hand, I stand and look out from the dining room window. It's by far the largest window in the house and offers one of our best views of Rabbit Ears, Spicer Peak, and the Sleeping Bear. Today however, I gaze out upon the vast whiteness that is our scenery. About 6 inches of the fluffy stuff fell overnight and still continues to fall today. Should make vaccinating calves interesting to say the least.

After layer upon layer of clothing are donned, the Boy's and I head for the corrals. We are armed with sleds and ready to face the snow.

The white gold fell steadily from the sky throughout the morning and well into the afternoon. Snow rested inches deep on the tops of fence railings, trucks, the platform we stand upon and even on the backs of the calves themselves. It didn't however change the calves attitude about going into the run. They didn't know what was down there and they'll be damned if they are going to find out.

We had calves in backwards, calves wanting in 2 at a time, calves trying to go up over the sides and calves on their backs. Couple that the snow, the cold, and the slippery conditions and one would expect attitudes or tempers. The overall mood however, was surprisingly easy going. Someone would invariably look to the poor snow covered sucker next to them and say "So, ya think it might snow today?" as the snow fell from the brim of their cowboy hat.

I must make a confession here for I cannot take credit for spending the entire day playing in the snow. With kiddo's home from school on Fridays and the temperature hovering at about 25 above we decided to wait and go out at lunchtime.  Therefor, after preparing the nice hot beef stew to help offset the cold and the wet we headed out. While everyone sat in pickups eating their cold sandwiches and potato chips we hunkered down with the heavy hearty food I had so lovingly prepared. Watching the snow fall around us, we eat our lunch listening to the sound of bawling calves and happy kids.

300 or so calves made it through and almost all got their shots. There is always one or two lively buggers that slips through the sorting.

It's supposed to be 60 degrees above in a few days time. Mother Nature must be feeling as lively as those calves. A person might think this was still Nebraska.

Keep your head up, your eyes peeled, and your mind open. Even a challenging day can be an enjoyable one.
Barb