Playing our Part

Well, that’s how July went. It’s been hot, like July is supposed to be. But oh, our Idaho nights! We don’t have an air conditioner, just let the morning breezes do the job. We’ve been sleeping in the basement where it’s cool and quiet. I tell Mark it's a mini-vacation. Why does it feel so good to snuggle under blankets even in mid-summer?

We identified a new bird (to us) this year, a western wood pewee. It’s nondescript in looks, gray/brown with a touch of a topknot on its head. Its song is a somewhat annoying screech. Kind of like a nighthawk with a blurb in the front. They start calling before dawn and are the last to bed at night. Different birds seem to dominate our homestead each year, or maybe we just turn our attention to them. For a couple of years it was the kingbirds squawking us awake each morning. Last summer, I imagined that all I heard was the two-tone monotonous call of the chickadee. We love them all, of course.

We will remember this July as when my dog, Kate, had the maggot episode. Flies took advantage of a hot, moist spot on her, maybe where a cheat grass awn had embedded in her skin, and thought it a good spot to lay eggs. What a harrowing event it was! We knew something wasn't quite right with her when we left for a day of cutting weeds. When we returned that evening we found her in a sorry state. I made a quick run to Walmart for hydrogen peroxide and examination gloves and we worked together on her, getting rid of the vermin, until 11:30 pm. Maggot work is not a job you want to tackle alone. The next day I took her to the vet for hydration and a partial body shave, only to find after we brought her home, that the professionals had missed two more nests under her collar! The sight of wriggling masses of maggots kept coming to my mind for the next few days. Yuck.

Kate is feeling much better now. Today she followed along to change water and was wagging her tail and digging up gophers with the rest of the dogs.

Other than maggots, weeds have been a morning conversation staple this July. I tell you what, they take the joy out of ranching! We concentrate on burr-producing invasives since they collect on our animals, but there are others that concern us too. I regularly monitor musk thistle for the presence of seed-eating weevils. Bio-control offers the best hope for the future. It may not be a clean sweep, but it’s cheap, sustainable, and environmentally friendly. The irony was not lost on me to find that the musk thistle weevil looks a lot like a maggot.

Insects in all their life cycle activities contribute to our world in many ways, maggots by decomposing and recycling animal carcasses, others for feeding songbirds, pollinating crops, and in general adding to the biodiversity that makes the whole thing function. We don’t notice or appreciate their work enough, but we wouldn’t last long without them.

Nature works in strange and wonderful ways. Finding our place and guarding our niche, while studying her mysteries, will be our life’s work. It will be imperfect, disappointing, exhilarating and amazing. We call ourselves ranchers, but during the growing season, students of the ecosystem is a better title.

lovely blossoms of penstemon in the mountains

musk thistle seed weevil
not sure what the adult interloper is

    

a second bio-control agent, the crown weevil, stunted this thistle stand

my cheery front porch

A Ranch Wedding

Seth and Leah were married here at the ranch in June. I had anticipated the event for so long, and it was such a big undertaking that I admit to being a bit discombobulated in the aftermath. Just three short days after the wedding, hardly time to catch our breath, we took a trip to Oregon. Upon our return, irrigation water was ponding on the site of the ceremony, and the net wire fence that had been folded back to accommodate the wedding procession had been spliced and closed. Did it really ever happen at all?

A ranch doesn't easily lend itself to formal festivities. Me in heels and Mark in a suit – to stay home? We don’t have a showplace for sure, but our sturdy, native trees are wonderful, and a pasture of grass with the Blackfoot River hills in the distance was just right. We were pleased that California-raised Leah chose the ranch for the event. Getting to know her close-knit, fun-loving family, and giving them a taste of Leah’s new life was a total pleasure.

In anticipation of hosting guests, we took the opportunity to clean up around the ranch headquarters where Seth and Leah live, as well as our home where the wedding would be held. Various objects that we’ve walked and driven by for years suddenly looked out of place and had to go. I moved the dog houses, planted grass here and there and trimmed trees. A new coat of paint on the hitching rail and the propane tank, fresh oil on the saddle shed, along with a generously wet spring helped a lot.

Weather was always the wild card. It has been cold and rainy this spring, and with wind in the forecast, Seth and Leah made a last minute decision to move the reception venue to Gary and Anita’s new dog working arena. Our lumber cousins provided wood chips to cover the dirt floor, which, along with a sod encircled dance floor and drapes and lights strung thru the rafters, transformed the space. I fashioned a wreath of rusted barbed wire rolled up from a long forgotten fence and adorned with greenery. Add formal tables and chairs, a handmade drink bar, straw bales to soften the sounds, and we had us a party.

Friends and family made it a homemade event in lots of ways. Many hands went to work to pull the whole thing off. My sister, niece and cousin created the meal. The Blackfoot FFA Floral club did a great job with the flowers. More high school students helped with set-up and parking to fund FFA travel in the coming year. And the most important part, the ceremony, was beautifully written by Leah’s Aunt Rachel. Rachel, who is Jewish, shared three Hebrew words with us, Baruch atah Adonai, which I learned later essentially means, “Thank you, God.” The words began each of seven blessings for the couple which were full of rejoicing for the unity of all, for peaceful and harmonious relationships with one another and the world, for inspiration, abundance and love. Seth and Leah followed the blessings with their own handwritten vows which were perfect in every way.

We couples in the audience were moved (as is usual at weddings) to remember our own vows. For me and Mark, our vows were shared 29 years ago and don’t exactly roll off the tongue these days. We were reminded to practice patience and compassion, kindness and forgiveness. To communicate always, and then communicate some more. To provide a safe place for our spouse. To focus on the important things and to let go of the rest. 

Mark and I wish we could do the kids' wedding all over again. If we could, we’d take the time to thank each person who helped raise our son. I would slow down and let the experience soak in a bit. Images and stories keep coming to mind. The fragrance of freshly laid wood chips filling the arena and Anna asking, "Does anyone feel like they're at the 4-H fair?" My carefully tended Olive below the house and how naturally it sheltered guests at tables covered in white linen. A last minute bridal shower the day before the wedding to accommodate traveling guests, a brilliant idea by young people who take on more than we adults ever would. And then, the sweet, supremely happy faces of Seth and Leah as they cemented a love they’ve shared for over 5 years now.

In the end, it was one more exceptional experience we’ve had in our role as parents. This ride of a lifetime. Holding tight, opening our arms a bit wider, wrapping up Leah for good.

photo by Anita Pratt

photos by Kendra Elise

Alpha Gamma Roe fraternity serenade

photo by Anna Pratt

heifers in on the planning