Thursday, November 19, 2020

It Could Happen!

I had a blog all started about the mild November we were having in the mountains. How I had walked a tributary of Meadow Creek looking for brook trout spawners and, not finding any, had decided it had been too warm and sunny yet. And how, at the spring, the water bubbled up sending concentric circles out in a delicately repeated pattern. Then it all ended abruptly with snow and high winds. We've been in the hills every day since, gathering stragglers, breaking water, convincing cattle that there was indeed grass under the snow and to go eat it already!

Yesterday we trailed the herd to a lower pasture and will get another couple of weeks before walking them down to the home ranch. I checked the cabin before we left and discovered someone had broken a window out and put a big hole in the card table. Luckily the window was a slider so I brought it home to get fixed. It takes two weeks to get a replacement and I doubt if the roads will be passable by then. I hate to think of the window being out all winter. We have a saying for this kind of disappointment in our fellow humans: “people are the worst.”

I’m loving it at home as the days get shorter. This time of year a homemaker’s thoughts turn to tending the wood stove, comfort cooking, and wading through all the domestic jobs we neglected while the weather took us outdoors. But the outdoors still beckon. I took the dogs for a walk tonight and smelled the sweet fragrance of damp cottonwood leaves and tromped through lots of sumptuous stockpiled grass. The buckskin and browns of the horses mirror the now muted colors perfectly.  

I keep thinking about a CD that Mark and I listened to as we traveled back and forth to the mountains. It’s a book called Outwitting the Devil by Napolean Hill, which was written in 1938, post WWI and in the midst of the Great Depression, and while Hitler was gathering power in Germany. The author is interviewing the Devil. It was chilling to listen to the Devil explain that the ability to think for ourselves is his greatest enemy and how through propaganda the public is manipulated thereby creating a perfect void for his influence.

As a counterweight, I just finished the book, From What Is to What If, by Rob Hopkins. It’s a hopeful book, so fitting for today with a pandemic upon us and an election under threat. The author admonishes us to cultivate our sense of imagination, and that it is, in fact, the only way to find solutions to complex, nagging, seemingly insurmountable problems.

It applies to our world, our local communities, and right here at home on the ranch. How does it look and feel if, as Hopkins describes, “it all turns out OK?” Well, for the ranch it looks like a great quality of life for us and our kids AND the work getting done. For our community it looks like neighbors protecting neighbors by using Covid spread prevention practices without a fuss. For our world it plays out with a united front against climate change which reduces fossil fuel use AND leads to better land management that cycles carbon in healthy ways.  

I wrote a quote from the book that encapsulates this crazy notion that what we can imagine, we can create. I wrote it on our whiteboard in the kitchen, “I bet it can be done, though.” 


November colors



good grazing on fresh feed



This grass fills me up







Sunday, November 1, 2020

2020 Friends

Yes, I feel apprehension before the election. And I’m concerned and feel compassion for those who will be affected by the outcome more than me. But meanwhile the sun is pouring in our south-facing windows, I just dug some gorgeous carrots out of the garden, and the calves are home on green grass and staying healthy. Today I'm content. 

We weaned the calves in a two-stage process. Mark set up corrals and a chute in the mountains and put a crew together for Sunday. First we separated the calves from the cows, then one-by-one worked the calves through the chute to give them a vaccination and a multi-vitamin shot, and put a plastic flap in their nose to keep them from sucking. We let them back out with their Moms to stay together but get weaned off milk for four days. Then we went back and hauled the calves home in time to get the flaps taken out by dusk. They were put straight out on pastures with abundant drinking water nearby. 

Using nose flaps is rare in our area. It’s our third year of trying it. Most ranchers wean cold turkey like we did for many years. It's really dependent on each ranch's set up and what works for them. Remaining curious and willing to learn new things is always a good idea and we like the results so far.

We couldn't have done it without an army of friends, our faithful employees, and lots of family. The kids came home to help and Anita prepared beef soup for lunch. I heated the soup in a cabin nearby so we could get out of the wind to eat. And wind there was. At the end of the day we looked horrible. Our eyes were gummy and part of the crew still had a long drive ahead of them before starting their work week on Monday. I made a note to round up some goggles for next time.    

We say thank you to our helpers, but it always seems so inadequate. Our friends give up their free time to essentially do slave labor for fun. Good grief.  

I had "none jobs" (a kid saying) after lunch, so I cleaned the cabin with a squirt bottle of cleaner someone had left behind and a couple of random paper towels. Lots of sweeping of flies from the carpet. I could watch the crew working cattle, but be inside where it was quiet and warmed by the wood stove. 

I usually worry a lot before big cattle days like this, but managed to stop myself this time. I just put my trust in my husband and went with the flow. After nigh on 30 years of marriage and working together on the ranch, I’m sure Mark just shakes his head. What he doesn’t know is how many crises I've averted by worrying ahead of time!

Trust, faith, calm - such good attributes to keep in mind as we enter a winter with a pandemic raging, civil unrest simmering, and an election where 70% of people think that if their guy loses doomsday will ensue. If you’re worried, my best idea is to do something that fills you up today. Contribute to your community. Get outdoors and revel in autumn. Think hard about your principles, write that letter to the editor, attend your next zoom call with a smile, and get on with it.   

our dream team



a dirty windy day