Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
A day in the life...
Every single solitary day is started with this. The life blood. I started out drinking my coffee in a big sozy mug, but I only ever drank half. The Cowboy protested, seeing as HE could have drank my wasted half. So I slimlined down to this- the only teacup I have. Even then I sometimes don't finish it. But that's between you and me.
Usually Little Buckaroo is already up and into trouble, but I'll put this in for effect: Wake my slumbering prince.
Feed him the breakfast of champions, usually cold, from the can. Which he likes better, go figure. 
Yesterday I finished my spur straps, tried them on, and realised they are too small. At least they're pretty! 
Then off for a day of grooming. Dogs, not myself, although the way my hair is going, I might have to put myself on the table. This is Sammi the ragamuffin.
And this is Sammi the Westie. I like a nice shaved back myself, but the owners like her a little shaggy. And she does have ears, she was just terrified of the camera.
After Sammi I had a horse of a german shepherd to shave. I dragged myself home, exhausted and made myself a sandwich. I copped out on dinner with a frozen pizza, and watched Finding Neverland to end the evening.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
2 heaping helpings of cuteness
Caleb will be One year old this month!! February 12th! Of course I will be 28 this month, which is MUCH more exciting. My birthday is on the 9th, and I accept all packages sent to me. Especially ones with a Kitchen aid mixer inside.
This is why everyone should have a Schnauzer
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Bringing in the herd, even with my help.
I spent most of today groaning on my couch and covering myself in a mountain of snotty tissues. While I was lying there whimpering, this memory came to mind and I share it to get the snotty tissue picture out of your mind:
HOW TO BEHAVE AT A CATTLE BRANDING WHEN YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHATS GOING ON:
You may never need this information, but I did. Desperately.
In October, a friend of ours (5th generation rancher-which means something in WYO) invited The Cowboy to help him with some calves he needed to brand. I obnoxiously invited myself along because I can't help exposing my general ignorance whenever I can. He said kindly I could come along as long The Cowboy came too.
THINGS NOT TO BRING TO A BRANDING:
1. Your dog. Everyone else will, but you don't if you want to be invited again.
2. Manicured nails. 'Nough said.
3. Arabian stallion. I did not intentionally bring one, but the horse I rode had illusions of grandeur.
4. The idea that you have an idea of what to do. Unfortunatly I brought this one along too, until The Cowboy squared me away.
WHAT TO BRING TO A BRANDING:
1. The Cowboy. I scored on this one.
So we started off at Western Frontiers. I grabbed my trusty Arabian stallion wanna-be and saddled up. Since we had WAY too many riders for a short drive with few cattle, The Cowboy stayed in the truck. I was sure they needed my expert horse handling help.
We get to the ranch (next door) and the rancher politely says good morning. He mentions casually that everything he had that morning bucked and that's why he had his little girl along. I'm sure that would make sense to another 5th generation rancher but I was lost to it's meaning. However I DID touch spur to my wanna-be to take him down a notch. He didn't even crow hop when I saddled up. Poser.
We move the cows along nice and slow. Its a mixed herd of cows, heifers, bulls and calves. The season is October and the calves(about 100 of them) have'nt been branded yet. this means:
A. they are big! If we were doing it old fashioned, the calf wrestlers never have shown up and quickly have turned around to go home again, but Jimmy has a chute that we will run them through.
B. If this was the 1800's, they all would have been stolen and branded with other brands because they can live on grass alone and they aren't branded yet.
We get all the cows into a large square pen. I have embarrased myself once already, in standing in the wrong spot and causing extra work for Jimmy. However only once is really good, considering my track record.
So, the pen is about 20' by 20'. Understand, I might be wrong about the dimensions, but I'm probably only 10 or 50 feet off the mark. If you imagine that you are a fat little cherub and are looking down on the pen, then the gate in and out of the pen is on the southeast side of the square. The cows and calves and heifers (we weeded out the bulls along the way) are squishing themselves on the north and west sides of the pen and we are bunched by the gate. Now, this is a bit tricky of a procedure so the inexperienced are told to tie up thier horses. The Cowboy tells me to stay mounted for his entertainment and Jimmy doesn't know any better so I am a member of the three part cutting process.
The GOAL: Have only calves left in the pen
The MEANS: cut the mama cows out by subtle pressure and force them through the gate with out their babies.
The PROCEDURE: I have no idea at this point
We start. This isn't the older cows' first square dance so they head out the gate practically by themselves, without a backwards glance for their babies. The heifers (teenage girls of the group) act typically their age by bunching up and acting cool in the corner. They kick out the little ones and talk about lipgloss amongst themselves until we go after them. Then they head towards the gate in a tight bunch like a bathroom trip at the rollerskate rink.
Now, Sounds easy right? You would be wrong, as I was. Some of the cows didn't want to go and those heifers CERTAINLY didn't want to go. And this is where I embarass myself for the second time.
Things go smoothly when the cutters work in a group, squeezing the cows out of the group like rolling up the toothpaste tube from the bottom. I am a middle of the tube type squeezer so that cows squish out the top and bottom. Jimmy, the 5th generation rancher, like all cowboys, politely mentions some obscure story about his father in the river that I don't understand until I wake up in the middle of the night with a big "OH!"
If I wasn't such a city girl I would have gotten the ghist: Work WITH the flow, not against it. But I don't get it and he doesn't mention it again.
** Cowboy culture hint: Cowboys are unfailingly polite. They will let you make a complete ass of yourself without telling you what to do, believing that if you give a person a chance they will figure something out on their own. Which is usually true. But you have to get through the complete ass part first. At least I do every single time. And if they like you, generally they will make you look like a bigger ass than you normally would. I am very well liked.
So, apart from my "help" they get the cows sorted and start the branding process. I am given the official job of calf counter, which tells you how highly they value my imput. But it's nice in the truck bed. The sun warms up the weather to a balmy 40 degrees and I like counting calves. They feed us and send us home. I know they are sorry to see me and my arabian stallion wanna-be go. At least The Cowboy likes watching my backside.
HOW TO BEHAVE AT A CATTLE BRANDING WHEN YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHATS GOING ON:
You may never need this information, but I did. Desperately.
In October, a friend of ours (5th generation rancher-which means something in WYO) invited The Cowboy to help him with some calves he needed to brand. I obnoxiously invited myself along because I can't help exposing my general ignorance whenever I can. He said kindly I could come along as long The Cowboy came too.
THINGS NOT TO BRING TO A BRANDING:
1. Your dog. Everyone else will, but you don't if you want to be invited again.
2. Manicured nails. 'Nough said.
3. Arabian stallion. I did not intentionally bring one, but the horse I rode had illusions of grandeur.
4. The idea that you have an idea of what to do. Unfortunatly I brought this one along too, until The Cowboy squared me away.
WHAT TO BRING TO A BRANDING:
1. The Cowboy. I scored on this one.
So we started off at Western Frontiers. I grabbed my trusty Arabian stallion wanna-be and saddled up. Since we had WAY too many riders for a short drive with few cattle, The Cowboy stayed in the truck. I was sure they needed my expert horse handling help.
We get to the ranch (next door) and the rancher politely says good morning. He mentions casually that everything he had that morning bucked and that's why he had his little girl along. I'm sure that would make sense to another 5th generation rancher but I was lost to it's meaning. However I DID touch spur to my wanna-be to take him down a notch. He didn't even crow hop when I saddled up. Poser.
We move the cows along nice and slow. Its a mixed herd of cows, heifers, bulls and calves. The season is October and the calves(about 100 of them) have'nt been branded yet. this means:
A. they are big! If we were doing it old fashioned, the calf wrestlers never have shown up and quickly have turned around to go home again, but Jimmy has a chute that we will run them through.
B. If this was the 1800's, they all would have been stolen and branded with other brands because they can live on grass alone and they aren't branded yet.
We get all the cows into a large square pen. I have embarrased myself once already, in standing in the wrong spot and causing extra work for Jimmy. However only once is really good, considering my track record.
So, the pen is about 20' by 20'. Understand, I might be wrong about the dimensions, but I'm probably only 10 or 50 feet off the mark. If you imagine that you are a fat little cherub and are looking down on the pen, then the gate in and out of the pen is on the southeast side of the square. The cows and calves and heifers (we weeded out the bulls along the way) are squishing themselves on the north and west sides of the pen and we are bunched by the gate. Now, this is a bit tricky of a procedure so the inexperienced are told to tie up thier horses. The Cowboy tells me to stay mounted for his entertainment and Jimmy doesn't know any better so I am a member of the three part cutting process.
The GOAL: Have only calves left in the pen
The MEANS: cut the mama cows out by subtle pressure and force them through the gate with out their babies.
The PROCEDURE: I have no idea at this point
We start. This isn't the older cows' first square dance so they head out the gate practically by themselves, without a backwards glance for their babies. The heifers (teenage girls of the group) act typically their age by bunching up and acting cool in the corner. They kick out the little ones and talk about lipgloss amongst themselves until we go after them. Then they head towards the gate in a tight bunch like a bathroom trip at the rollerskate rink.
Now, Sounds easy right? You would be wrong, as I was. Some of the cows didn't want to go and those heifers CERTAINLY didn't want to go. And this is where I embarass myself for the second time.
Things go smoothly when the cutters work in a group, squeezing the cows out of the group like rolling up the toothpaste tube from the bottom. I am a middle of the tube type squeezer so that cows squish out the top and bottom. Jimmy, the 5th generation rancher, like all cowboys, politely mentions some obscure story about his father in the river that I don't understand until I wake up in the middle of the night with a big "OH!"
If I wasn't such a city girl I would have gotten the ghist: Work WITH the flow, not against it. But I don't get it and he doesn't mention it again.
** Cowboy culture hint: Cowboys are unfailingly polite. They will let you make a complete ass of yourself without telling you what to do, believing that if you give a person a chance they will figure something out on their own. Which is usually true. But you have to get through the complete ass part first. At least I do every single time. And if they like you, generally they will make you look like a bigger ass than you normally would. I am very well liked.
So, apart from my "help" they get the cows sorted and start the branding process. I am given the official job of calf counter, which tells you how highly they value my imput. But it's nice in the truck bed. The sun warms up the weather to a balmy 40 degrees and I like counting calves. They feed us and send us home. I know they are sorry to see me and my arabian stallion wanna-be go. At least The Cowboy likes watching my backside.
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