Unplanned Pregnancies

We weren’t expecting any calves this soon, but there are three on the ground right now. We think the neighbor’s bull went on a walk-about.

There’s a herd of elk marauding the neighborhood. They spent one night in our stackyard munching on third-crop alfalfa bales. Then they went out in the pasture and dug holes in the snow, eating our stockpiled feed we were saving ‘til spring. They drug the electric fencing wires hither and yon. Apparently they've moved on because we haven't seen them for a few days.   

I walked home after chores through our backgrounding feedlot this morning. There is a wide alley between pens to allow hay to be delivered to opposing feed bunks. The calves look happy. Jesse is doing a good job of tending them. He feeds them twice a day and delivers large straw bales into the pens every few days so they have a clean, dry place to lie down. It’s a pleasant, congenial spot to spend a cold winter day.  

The cow herd is divided into two herds this time of year. One for the older cows and one for the younger cows that are expecting their first or second calf. We can take our best hay to the young cows and not expect them to compete with the old gals for feed.  

There’s one baby in the young cows, the heifers. She was born to a “second-calver,” which is a good thing because heifers are so excited about the newcomer they can overwhelm a neophyte mother. They crowd around, sniffing the baby, and can interfere with the bonding so critical to the calf’s health. This mother, wise from doing it once before, knew to keep her newborn away from the herd, under wraps for a bit. She was keeping a tight rein on her baby, bunting away an interloper as we watched. Once a few calves arrive the herd becomes accustomed to the process and it's not a problem. 

Early or not, we’ll take every healthy calf we get. We have a bit of experience in unplanned pregnancies ourselves. Sometimes surprises produce the best outcomes!   

Mom is wary but standing guard

Staying Power

We still have our solid snow covering. It’s packed hard. Venturing off the feedground into fresh territory takes chains and bravado. We’ve gotten stuck a few times which keeps us humble. Truth told, smooth sailing doesn’t show one’s true character does it? Wallowing around in the snow securing tire chains does. I let Mark do the wallowing of course. It’s so unfair.

I read to Mark out of my 2015 diary. It was 63 degrees on this date. What? The forecast for today is a high of 26!   

It’s a new year. Some things are the same. Red meat and raising cows in general is still being vilified. We’re still ignoring nutrition commonsense and refusing to raise the conversation around climate issues. And some things are different. After several years of sky-high beef industry profits, calf prices have plummeted to nearly one-half the high of a few short months ago.

The agricultural world is rife with boom and bust net returns. Of course any economic sector (oil for instance) can fluctuate wildly, and keeping our wits about us when prices are strong is always good advice.

Mark and I have asked ourselves more than once, “Were high cattle prices good for the industry?” On one hand, ranchers finally had enough money to build the shop, buy the new Ford tractor, remodel the house or put a handsome down payment into a coveted piece of real estate. On the other hand, grazing rental rates went through the roof because of competition for grass. And if you were trying to expand, cow prices were (and still are in our opinion) too high to cash flow. Seems the ride up is easy, the ride down stilted and begrudging. Hopefully the new equipment was paid for in cash and any real estate debt comes with a payment that can be covered when profits are squeezed. 

The high prices put a shot of adrenaline into the beef industry. Many ranching families brought on the next generation during this upswing. This was positive in so many ways, but now it's time to dig into the finances and help the youngsters understand the figure at the end of the spreadsheet. Then work together to keep it in the black. Knowledge is power, and respectful debate and collaboration, golden. 

beauty in my world

Quietude

It’s quiet on the ranch. We go about caring for the herd every morning just as generations of ranchers have done before us. Each winter day is the same as the one before unless severe weather intervenes. 

This statement is true on a ranch only once a year, the cold season, when nothing grows and snow can cover the ground for weeks at a time. By March we’ll be calving and every day is a wild card. The feeding still needs to happen, but we never know who might need help and how long the days will be. And at the same time spring arrives and the farm goes under irrigation and the cows go to grass and it’s a “hold on to your hat” affair.

But I won’t think about that just now. I’ll just enjoy the quiet.

To make it even better, Seth and Anna are home for a few weeks. Seth is working from home as an analyst for an agricultural consulting firm. He’s on the computer all day and has to stay focused. I’ve learned to be quiet and let him work. Anna is student teaching and putting in long hours in the classroom and planning upcoming lessons in the evening. She debriefs every night and it’s such fun to be in on this phase of her education.   

I get to spoil the kids with homemade meals. They’ve been gone long enough to appreciate Mom’s cooking.  

Mark has arranged extra hired help to feed cows this winter so I have more time to pursue my writing projects. I’m thrilled with the extra time and so thankful to him. His support means the world to me. Sometimes I find him of an evening, buried in the office supposedly doing bookwork, but instead reading old blog posts.

Seth is great to want to explore big topics. He told me about the book, Leading on Empty, and how the author, pastor Wayne Cordeiro, says to think about the time you spend each day on activities that only YOU can do. He says it may be only 5%, but that it determines the validity of the other 95% of your day. Without reading the book, I can only conjecture the author’s meaning within my own life context.

What do I do each day that I can’t hire someone else to do? It’s a great question. I’m the only mother my kids have. I’m Mark’s only wife. And even though I’m not the only woman rancher who must write to scratch an itch, I’m the only one with my unique life experience, a perspective born of that experience, and the will to faceoff with a blank word document.

That's my challenge. What's yours?

sometimes they're frozen

a winter walk with friends

   

The Money Side

It’s warmed up a little to the twenties and even some thirties in the daytime. We still have a solid snow covering. Seth and Leah’s perfect snowman still smiles at us out the picture window.

Every day now is a feeding cows day. The first day out was a pleasure. Ah yes, I remember this. It was a beautiful morning with a cover of fresh snow. The cows had a dusting of white on their backs.

When it’s really cold, the cows’ hooves make a creaking clamor as they crowd around the truck when we arrive each morning. Between bales I pull my fingers into my gloves and stand for a half-minute to get the blood flowing again. When it warms up, like now, we shed our coats after the first load and risk getting hay chaff down our necks.

Isn’t January grand? I love the feeling of a fresh start on a fresh new year. I finally got my 2016 planner set up today and the pages lay open - crisp and clean and full of promise.

Like every January, Mark and I have been going through ranch finances. I like the business side of the operation. A new year means visits to our accountant and banker and spending evenings sorting options. Actually, Mark does the sorting. I cheer him on and do what I can in the background. My forte is trying to figure out what questions to ask. I love questions. And really, it’s not so much about finding concrete answers, but rather thinking through the myriad of factors that good questions bring to mind. This is where the meat of great decisions lie.       

And we best be comfortable with questions on a ranch. How do we juggle the needs of four generations that have an interest in this business? How do we address a shortage of spring grazing? What is the return on soil amendments this past season?

Ranching is about relationships: cows and grass, employees and family members, older generations and younger generations, soil organisms in concert with above ground flora and fauna, horses and dogs and cows. And in the background, the relationship that keeps the rest of it together, those ever important debits and credits, income and expenses. For if that relationship doesn't work, the others have no chance to. 

Colder Still

When it’s sub-zero, everything is doubly difficult on a ranch. The water troughs need chopped daily and the ice thrown clear, the trucks and tractors don’t want to start, and everything creaks and groans with the weight of cold. Including us, of course.

I feel bad for the livestock, but if they have enough feed and a good drink they’ll be okay. We methodically make our rounds each morning to every herd, feeding and tending water, and don’t expect to do much else during the day.   

I ran into a friend, a fellow rancher, in town, and asked him how they were doing keeping the cattle and sheep tended. He said, “Don’t do it!” I laughed and replied, “It’s too late!”

I walked to grandmas in a face mask on the coldest day. Mark drove by as I was headed out the driveway and said he didn’t think I was tough enough to make the walk. Humph! As I walked, I heard loud popping noises coming from the neighboring field. At first I thought it was goose hunters, but then decided it must be ice breaking on the canal. The sound was stiff and hard and beautiful.    

Mark caught a mean virus and had to sleep in the recliner last night to get a breath. I hate when he gets sick and still has to be out in this every day.

Callie made it back to New York City. That seems like forever away. As we were headed to the airport we talked about her “vacation.” It was mostly family parties and tending cows.

We moved cattle on Christmas Eve which was an event. It was going swell until the last leg when the cows discovered alfalfa under the snow and spread out far and wide grazing. The kids were on foot and got caught too far from the pickup and trailer which housed a horse and a 4-wheeler, brought along for just such a situation. When I finally got there with the back end and my dog to help, they were exhausted and mad. We got the cows put away, but it was with much gnashing of teeth. Now it’s only another memory of another Christmas. At least the kids were together, fighting the same battle.

It’s always been thus - a ranch kid’s holiday.

you go . . . no, you go!

Christmas on the Ranch

The cows made it home for Christmas. It takes three days to gather the field and walk them down the county road. They string out single file to avoid the icy roadway and we can usually get it done with one horse, which may spend all day in the horse trailer if she’s not needed. I’m a chicken on horseback in the snow and it’s almost impossible to dress warm enough in the winter riding a horse. I would rather walk and work my dog.

One morning Mark dropped me off a couple of miles back from the herd to bring along two stragglers. It was lovely, just me and the cows in a desolate winter landscape. The only sounds were the rustle of our feet treading through the snow and the low murmur of the river in the canyon below us.

On the last morning when we had entered the realm of farm ground, the herd discovered lush winter wheat under the snow. Kate and I had a good workout getting them lined out again. Kate flew and I trudged. It was great fun.

The older I get the more I love to walk. And it's not a problem keeping warm, just the opposite. Mark has always said I have a three degree comfort range, and that was before menopause. All you fifty-plus women out there, you know what I mean. Whether hot or cold, you’ll know what state I’m in depending on how much outerwear I’ve shed. If I'm carrying part of my clothing, in a few minutes I’ll be cold and have to layer it back on again. Guys have it so easy.

The kids made it home too. We went to the local production of “A Christmas Carol” last night. It was storming and we almost talked ourselves out of going, but were so glad we went. It was a first rate production in a small old-timey theatre. This 1843 story never gets old; in fact it improves with age.  

The actor that played Scrooge was as good as any Broadway star and Tiny Tim and his timeless,”God bless us, every one,” never gets old.   

We're looking forward to working outside together during the day and games and good conversation in the evenings. 

Merry Christmas! 

cows were here

the last long climb

Blackfoot River

this year's wreath, also ranch raised

Worship, for a Change

We have a nice snow cover which feels very Christmasy. Christmas is slowly taking shape inside as well. Seth and Anna arrive today, and we’ve waited to bring in the tree until they’re home. I love the, “Oh, I remember this!” that happens when the kids do the trimming.  

With the frigid work of caring for cows ongoing, I had an enjoyable change of pace taking Grandma to church on Sunday. She’s a practicing Episcopalian who doesn’t get to practice much since she gave up her car. She was afraid no one in the congregation would remember her, but of course they did. We entered through the blood red doorway and were welcomed warmly in to their tiny community. 

The Episcopal service is very participatory. Bonny’s eyesight isn’t too good, and I was lost trying to find the hymns and chants in the books tucked in the rack in front of us. As I was going back and forth between the hymnal and the prayer book, I turned to the fellow behind us with a questioning look. He cheerfully exchanged books with me as he was already on the right page. He would do this a couple more times before the service was over.      

I have never been a churchgoer. My folks taught by example and provided all I needed as a kid. But still, I hated having to say I was a “nothing” when the other kids at school asked me what religion I was. Mark was raised like me, so it was natural to do the same with our own kids. I’m sure they had the same issues at school being different from their peers. Anna had the right idea when she told her teacher she was “home-churched.” Brilliant.

Grandma Bonny never forced her religion on anyone, but she did the kids a good turn when she enrolled them in bible camp over the summer. The camp was hosted by a different Christian denomination every year so the kids got comfortable with the Episcopalians, the Lutherans, the Catholics and the Methodists. Now wherever they go they’re at ease visiting local churches. Or not visiting them for that matter.  

Thankfully I am comfortable as an adult, as a nothing. I don’t have to be a “believer” to believe in the power of faith and prayer and community. However and wherever each of us finds peace and comfort is good with me.

The best part of the service on Sunday was "The Peace," that time before communion where parishioners turn to one another in greeting. Handshakes and hugs are shared and wishes of peace exchanged. So fitting for the season. “Peace be with you . . . and also with you.”