Goodbye to The Alvord

We’ve spent the past 11 years living and working for an enormous working cattle ranch, which covers 250,000 acres of deeded and permitted land. It’s a 4 hour trip to the closest town of any size and 2 hours to the small town of Burns Oregon, which has a Safeway and one other supermarket, a ranch store and a Dairy Queen. There’s not much else, so we tend most often to take the 4 hour drive to Idaho. Because of the time involved and cost of fuel, we manage to make these trips only 4x a year. We coordinate groceries, Dr appt’s, errands and animal feed into one trip every 3 months. We often use the large livestock trailer to fit everything in. 

Cashiers at Costco used to raise their eyebrows at the amount of food we would buy but have since grown accustomed to us. Since there is sadly no pizza delivery, all 3 meals have to be made at home. Hardly any prepared or processed foods are purchased as it takes up too much valuable space. We have 3 upright freezers, 2 refrigerators and a large pantry. We buy flour in 50 lb sacks (for those days I want to save time and not have to mill flour to make bread), as well as sugar, brown sugar, rice and wheat berries (to be made into flour). I had dairy goats, a couple of Jersey cows, chickens, ducks, sheep, rabbits and a garden, much of our food was raised at home. I did a lot of canning which saved a lot of freezer space as well as for those nights I was too tired from riding and needed a quick meal at hand. I can soups, chili, shredded Mexican beef, beef and pulled pork for sandwiches, chicken and rabbit for casseroles, beef and chicken stock, vegetables, pie filling etc. It’s amazing the difference in flavor and texture between home canned foods and the stuff you buy in the store. The first 50 years of my life, I didn’t mind cooking when I had to, but it wasn’t something I looked forward to. Having all fresh ingredients actually made it fun and I surfed the internet always looking for great new recipes. And boy did I find some!

garden bounty

nothing beats homemade bread and apple pie

Jack Cheese

homemade butter pats

home raised chicken

I made all of our dairy products. Cheese, cream cheese, sour cream, whipped cream, ricotta, butter, ghee, etc. My Jersey cow gave amazingly rich creamy milk, and I actually had to use a spoon to scoop the heavy cream off of the top, as it was that thick.

I spent my days riding with the cowboys (up here they are buckaroos) and cowgirls (who are every bit as capable and rugged as the men). The ranch owner has 5 kids who were all homeschooled and have worked since they could stretch their toddler legs across the back of a pony saddle. It warmed my heart to see this small microcosm of what used to be typical America, where the family works, eats and plays together. The kids learn to rely on one another and instead of competition, there is camaraderie. They learned the convictions of their parents without the outside interference of peer pressure and societal corruption. They appreciate their family, friends, the value of hard work, the blessings of God and their place in the world. They are strong and capable, prepared to handle whatever life deals to them because they have support, encouragement, and the knowledge that their contribution makes a difference.

We gathered cattle out of pastures that were thousands of acres, sorted and separated pairs, gathered them into corrals for doctoring, branding or whatever else needed to be done. Some days were long, 11 hours or more in the saddle. It was beautiful out on the range, with deer, antelope, pheasant, coyotes, even a cougar, the occasional badger and other wildlife. From the reverence felt watching a bald eagle soar on the wind currents, to the delight of the song of meadowlarks, I never wished to be anywhere else.

When I’d get back I’d call in my sweet Jersey cow, and rest my head in her flank, relaxing to the sound of her chewing her grain and hay, the pleasant grassy, cowy smell of her and startling from the occasional swat of her tail. I’d strain the milk into jars and chill it, and fix dinner and do whatever other chores I had around the house before bedtime.

I had opportunity to do things I would not otherwise have been able to do. Helping to gather, brand, separate cattle day after day in a spectacularly beautiful setting. Enjoying my little flock of sheep and their Livestock Guardian Dogs, my chickens, Jersey cows, bottle raising up to 30 orphan calves a season, growing huge gardens, making soap, putting the rest of the world on hold.

break in!

Identity crisis?

The polar bears counting calves

 It was truly an idyllic life, but like all things, it must come to an end and the seasons are changing. God is calling me to something new. I will treasure this time and these memories as I step into the next chapter.

Got Milk?

It's been awhile, and I haven't been able to write much, so I thought I would take a step back in time and republish one of my favorite memories.

Years ago, living on our small family ranch in California, I was already moving in the direction of becoming more self sufficient, food-wise. I decided a milk cow was in order. I knew I would have a reasonable supply of fresh milk, cream, butter and maybe cheese. The internet, at that time, had not been invented, in fact....we had no computers. So I was on my own to figure all these things out.

On my quest for our bovine beauty, I met a sweet old man with a dairy in Bakersfield, about 45 minutes down the mountain from our town. He told me he had a nice cow who freshened at 10 GALLONS a day, but was currently only giving 2 gallons daily...she had not gotten re-bred and would become a "butcher cow" unless I wanted her. We agreed on a price and I set out to pick her up. It was almost Thanksgiving, and we had heavy snow and ice on the road. I proceeded to hook up our massive 6 horse trailer and head for the big city of Bakersfield. 

About 1/2 mile down our road, I came upon a CalTrans snowplowman, who informed me "You'll never make it down this road with that trailer"...I am NOT a great backer-upper (yes, that is a real word). It took me over 45 minutes to slip and slide down that narrow canyon road and avoid going off the embankment...normally it was a 7 minute drive. A quick and URGENT stop at the first available restroom and off I went to pick up the cow.

My first clue that this may not have been a real good idea, was when it took 8 men to load her, and one got smashed in the gate. They finally got her aboard, and my primary thought was...how am I gonna milk this monster, all by myself?  You see, what I hadn't considered, was, she was a DAIRY cow...in otherwords, she had NEVER been handled or hand milked. She would just follow the others in to eat her 'candy' had electric doodaddy's stuck on her plugs and away she'd go. (yes, that IS a technical term).

I had the entire trip home to devise a plan to get her into my barn, and get her milked. 

Skip ahead about 6 to 8 hours...there are rope marks and burns around every oak tree between the driveway and the barn, skid marks in the snow and mud that match my bootprints...there are several body indentations in the snow about my size, with cowtracks that seemly go right through them...but INSIDE the barn is a monstrous, muddy Holstein cow, with each hind leg tied to opposite corners of a stall, head locked between two boards, happily munching on hay, with a victorious young mother filling her bucket with milk, one squirt at a time. Ahhhh! The simple life!!

**********

Years and years after my relationship with my Holstein cow (whom we fondly referred to as "Jugs") we moved to a smaller piece of property, only 2 1/2 acres, and closer to town. The kids grew up, and moved out, my life had modernized as we lived in a real live, less than 100 yr old, contractor built home, unlike the humble abode at the ranch that was built 80 years before at a Chinese labor camp then moved there...but thats a story for another day...

I had been training show horses for years, spending lots of time on the road, but now HandyRandyman and I were about to enter a new season of life, away from the ratrace. It was time to start living the "Simple Life" again.

I began like anyone else would. I bought 3 chickens (Oprah, Ethel, and Schatzey, because everyone knows chickens with names perform better).

One afternoon, while perusing the Motorcycle section of the CameraAds, (a sign of terminal boredom) my eye was drawn to a great big ad for a newly freshened DAIRY GOAT. 

Now, as you well know, a newly freshened goat, at a very reasonable price, in giant letters, in the MOTORCYCLE section of a paper, is clearly a sign from above. So, I did the sensible thing, and hooked up the latest monster trailer and headed for Bakersfield again, this time to pick up our new goat.

As I mentioned...she was very reasonably priced. I was thrilled. The only hitch was, it was necessary to strip her of milk twice daily as she had no kid with her (that's a term for 'baby goat' for those who don't know...Caprine owners seldom throw their children in to sweeten a deal, no matter HOW badly they want to get rid of the goat)

After lugging her home, it occurred to me there might be a reason she was so attractively priced. I discovered it, when I learned she had a quirky little habit of LYING DOWN whenever you tried to milk her. I threatened, I cajoled, but she continued to fold up like a cheap, portable chair, and it was getting dark. My back was aching, and we didn't have a stanchion yet, so, in desperation, I heaved her front end up on a picnic table, and had Randyman hold her back end up in the air so I could get underneath and get my 2 quarts of milk...all the while with him mumbling "dear Lord, I hope the neighbors cant see me...this looks so bad..."

Next morning: I drag myself up at 4:30 cuz Randyman is gonna leave for work and I want to enlist his help again. Due to the visibility from the breaking light, he stubbornly refuses and I am left to my own devices. But I am armed with confidence that I will prevail, as I have vast experience in animal training, and am known to be very resourceful, if not stubbornly single minded.

SUCCESS!!! It wasn't really that hard after all! All that was necessary, was to rob a few cinches and straps out of my tack room, and fashion a sling....wrestle it around a large, reluctant and recalcitrant goat, then hoist her up in an oak tree far enough so her feet couldn't reach the ground and VIOLA!! MILK!

I just love a bargain, don't you?

******************

Around and about 6 years ago, we took a job as ranch hands on one of the largest and oldest working cattle ranches in the state of Oregon, and here we are now, in this idyllic place 110 miles from the nearest town. The simple life has enveloped us, and consequently, we are once again enjoying fresh squeezed milk, because Randy bought me a Jersey cow for Mothers Day. She is very gentle, but somewhat spoiled and ill mannered.

She is however, not without her little quirks. Having no milking stool per se, I used my little rattan footstool (from Pier1) as it was low and light enough to manage.

As I happily pumped away, morning after morning, Dolly (aforementioned Jersey cow) would munch happily on her hay and grain, occasionally smacking me in the face with her tail, often relieving herself with an unappetizing “plop”, perpetually swinging her hips (from TipMeOnMyButtClose to DangNearOutOfReach) and, of course, always trying to dip her foot in the bucket.

She became more and more skilled at the placement of her hind foot until she finally managed to sink it right to the bottom of a gallon of milk.

Tossing the tainted milk aside, blood pressure peaking, I grabbed a set of hobbles and proceeded to tie her hind feet together, preventing any more attempts to stick ‘em in my business.

With her heels glued together, and her head locked securely in the head gate, I went about filling a new bucket, when without warning, Dolly got mad.  She apparently was not impressed with the hobbles and began to kick wildly in an effort to remove them. It’s a scientific fact that when two entities are tied tightly together, and one swings thru the air, the other tends to follow…

Before I could say “I’ll just buy milk” she came tumbling my way, crushing my stool, and pinning my lower half under her belly…with my arms free, I managed to release the bar on the stanchion holding her head captive, as I was afraid she was going to break her neck. This had the effect of releasing the last several hundred pounds of big, mad, rubbery cow and she melted all over me. Realizing help would not arrive until evening, I managed to wriggle out from underneath that mess of a cow and assume a semi- upright position.

After getting my cow on her feet, I gathered up my now skinny, oblong milk bucket, the 2 sticks remaining of my stool, and my hobbles, and left my cow, my milk and my pride in the corral, and had a cup of very black coffee and some dry cereal.

Having experienced a self inflicted cow tipping of sorts, as a result of tying my cow's hind feet together and incurring her wrath, I found myself without a milking stool.

Milking requires a great deal of squatting, if you have no stool, it can be hard on the back, legs, and disposition. So, I jumped on the nearest internet and began searching.

My quest was successful! A cool catalogue (Lehmans) which carries all manner of nifty, old timey, useful stuff, had a One Legged Milking Stool. Now this is a brilliant concept, because MY cow likes to Mambo and Cha Cha, and its a little hard to keep up with her , so a one legged stool would allow me to tip, pivot and follow as necessary, to keep her plugs within reach...and as if this incredible mobility feature isn't enough, it comes with a belt, which straps around your hips! So, with it firmly attached to your hindquarters, you just have to squat down and scoot yourself into place! I couldn't WAIT for it to arrive!!!

The UPS man finally showed up, and I proudly held my stool out to Randyman, who just shook his head. Clearly he had no idea how wonderful this was going to be.

Next morning, I realized it was a bit heavy, as it is made of solid hardwood (quality stuff!), so I had to hoist it up onto the kitchen table and back up to it in order to get it on.

Stool firmly attached, I loaded myself up with 2 small milk pails (the large one had been totalled in the wreck), another small bucket with warm soapy water to wash the udder, a bucket of soaked beet pulp to keep her happy, and a dry towel in my mouth...I proceeded out the kitchen door. It didn't take but a second to realize the leg protruding from my backside wasn't going to allow me to turn and shut the door on our narrow porch...so I

1. walked to the step

2. unloaded buckets and rags

3.turned back

4. pulled door shut

5. backed up to step again to avoid putting chair leg thru     glass on door

6. reloaded

After reloading, I repeated steps 1-6 at the yard gate, and again at the corral. The stool clearly had a design flaw, and was getting nicked up rather badly every time I swung around.

Believing the worst was behind me, (and, indeed, it was) I put down my stuff, sidled up next to Dolly and proceeded to sit down and take my nifty new stool for a test drive...

...No one, apparently has ever measured the legs on these stools!!! The one on mine is rather SHORT, and after squatting to the level at which I should have made contact, my quad muscles could no longer hold me, and my hips soon reached terminal velocity, as they sped toward the solid  ground of the corral.

With a tooth shattering jolt, which nearly shot my now bugging eyes clean out of my head, that one legged milking stool reached earth and turned itself into a well planted fence post. This had the effect of tightening the belt around my hips and the stool had seemingly become a permanent part of my anatomy.

With a bit of rocking, I was able to finally topple myself over, the @#!!*&$ stool still attached to my backside, and I proceeded to kick my tools out under the fence and head for the house. I do not know for the life of my WHY I thought i would get a different result from squatting in the garden!! Several eggplants and a tomato later, I managed to extricate myself from ground level of very soft soil, and crawl to the rock wall and pull myself up. I found my knife, cut the strap on the stool and shoved it up on top of the garden shed, where it remains to this day.

I located a plastic crate that once held 5 gallon water bottles which seemed to hold my weight. I headed back to the corral with it, convinced my curious cow that NO, she  had NOT seen a unicorn, and I proceeded to finish the job.

I think I can tell you, with some authority, that the cheese isn't the only Laughing Cow!!

A Change of Season

When I started this blog, it was Range to Range as I was slowly losing the ability to ride and be out where I wanted to be, and was spending more time in the kitchen, trying out recipes, making milk products and homemade meals in an attempt to fill my days.

As the years have passed, my disease has been looming larger and taking away more and more of what I love in life and leaving me feeling much like an empty shell. I couldn’t blog because my state of mind was nothing I would want to share with anyone, nor anything you would care to read. My life is changing again, so although there will be a little about ranching and livestock, I will share the life I’ve been given, such as it is.

As my readers know, I now am dependent on a Service Dog to help me through the normal activities of my day, that I can no longer manage on my own. I would like to expand a little on how he assists me, as it is doubtful there will be many entries in the future that don’t include Heath.

Unable to bend over and reach the floor anymore, Heath hands me anything I drop (which happens more and more often as my hands become more involved) and anything I point and ask for. On really painful days when I cannot get up, he brings me my pillow and blanket. I consistently forget to take my medications, and mid day cannot remember if I took them or not as I am easily distracted or confused, so Heath brings them to me the minute I wake up, and stays with me until I take them, then he puts them back on the table where he prefers to keep them. That in itself has been a tremendous help. He also brings them to me at night, as there are meds that have to be taken at certain times of the day. I know when it’s almost  bedtime because he hands them to me.

He picks up all the dirty laundry and hands to me so I can put it in the rolling hamper and he takes the clothes out of the dryer as I cannot bend far enough to get them, especially things like socks, where even he has to crawl in to reach them. He’s doing a good job pushing the buttons that open doors for wheelchairs, although I am not yet in need of him to do so. He already does a good job walking along beside a wheelchair as I have to use the scooters in the store, unable to walk that much. Better to get the training done before it becomes critical. There are always new tasks that I find I need to teach him, such as flushing a commercial toilet, helping me to undress, and bring my attention to my scratching as my skin always itches and I tend to scratch till I bleed.
Over the years, I have lost my ability to do many things, and medications as well as disease both changed my body.I no longer wanted to see people or go out. I hated shopping, refused to join the parties on the ranch and Lord have mercy on anyone who points a camera in my direction. I’ve always been a ‘loner’, but I was becoming a recluse. A very unhappy, depressed and pain-wracked recluse. Heath has made huge changes in my life.

After 10 years, I got myself a phone, got a drivers license and bought a car. I enjoy going to town with Heath and doing the shopping or whatever, as he is always so happy to serve and seems to love new places. I no longer suffer from anxiety being out in public, because people tend to focus on Heath, not on me or what I look like.


The boss wants me to get rid of my animals. I had already planned to get rid of most of them as I cannot take care of them anymore, but they were not selling fast enough, so all our cows went to a sale one day, and the sheep another. There's not much reason for the kids to come visit anymore. Their highlights of the trips were gathering eggs, playing with and feeding the lambs, goats and calves, milking the cow and the other stuff they could only do where we lived.

We held back 2 lambs for our freezer, one for the dogs and 2 ewes and the ram to send to a friend we worked a deal with so we will still get our 2 lambs a year. Bruno and Mr Potamus are not very thrilled with this decision, but it wasn’t mine or theirs to make. Without a flock to protect, they now live in the yard and house, much to my dismay, as they constantly loose enormous clumps of white hair on the carpet and make a challenging obstacle course in our very small house for me to try and negotiate. As I am not allowed to seek outside help to get the house and yard clean, which is beyond my abilities, I found my life was easier to just leave the ranch and take a long running road trip with Heath.

It’s been a great month, and has been good for me. TheMan has agreed that I will come home for awhile and then take another road trip whenever life there becomes too overwhelming. I don’t know how long I will be able to exercise this option, as we don’t know when the disease will render me unable to drive, but until then, I hope to make the most of it! I will be able to make up for all the time I lost seeing my grandkids and my kids. I will meet some of the people who have encouraged me on FB for the past several years, and hopefully, I will see parts of the country I’ve never had the opportunity to see.



Here’s to the future!

Soaking Up the Son-Shine

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life" Prov. 13:12

It’s been an incredible week. After my first real ride in years, during which, yes, I got sick, and yes the next day was painful, I recovered quickly enough to go out again the 2nd day after. It was just a short ride, maybe an 1 1/2 hours, walking through the cattle in a few different fields to check on them and find a calf that had seemingly been abandoned the night before but luckily it had mothered up to another cow. It was far less demanding on me and I felt fine when we got back in. I have vowed to ride every other day until I am strong enough to ride daily and still do my chores. Right now, I can only manage riding a few hours then I am pretty much used up and at my limit, so I try to make up for it the following day, making dinner and cleaning up the house. The activity is reaping so many rewards, that even I, who am well aware of the mechanics and benefits of Equine Assisted Therapy am amazed. After just the initial two rides, I was able to force myself up early Saturday morning, walk not just to our corral, which has long been a challenge due to my weakness, but all the way to the corral behind the big ranch barn. I caught up my horse and led him all the way back. I was, of course, accompanied by my two giant Maremma Livestock Guardian Dogs who recently figured out their radio fence was no longer working, after 6 months of it being turned off. They worry about me. In fact, I have such a history, it seems that EVERYONE worries about me.

I knew the cowboys planned to be on the way by 8 am and TheMan, who had been putting my shoes and spurs on for me as I haven’t the flexibility to reach my feet, and was also saddling my horse as I cannot lift the heavy saddle, was still in bed with his back hurting. I had managed to get my shoes and spurs on myself which was a pretty big deal for me, and with a mighty grunt, determination and  a slight injury to the muscle in my right arm, I got the saddle up. I locked the dogs in the yard with Heath, because I knew they would insist on going with me and that cannot be allowed to happen. One of the cowboys was kind enough to tighten my cinch, which is still beyond me, and we headed off. We gathered a huge field of weaned calves so they could get a head count. I, of course, didn’t work as hard and wasn’t nearly as effective as the other two, but I still thoroughly enjoyed it. I got my big bunch up in the corner and held them while they brought the rest of the field up and it took about 4 hours all total to do their thing. (There were close to 1300 spring calves). It was noon, cold and windy and I only had on a long sleeved shirt, and during the gather my little package with my pain pill in it fell to the ground where I looked and considered, that getting down to pick it back up would mean about a 2 mile walk on foot to get back on my horse again. I chose to sacrifice it.

At noon, we had put all the calves back into the field and had pushed them up to the feed bunks where TheMan was preparing to bring the big truck of their medicated feed. There wasn’t much else to do, so I excused myself and went back to the house for a drink. I was debating whether or not to go back out and help move pairs, as they had a full day of riding to do, or if I should start training Heath how to behave around horses. I chose the latter, as I hate leaving him home, and so does he. The problem is, he is very bonded to me and has never seen me horseback. The first time I got on Wimpy, it upset him and he was barking and jumping at us and getting underfoot. I was worried he would get one or both of us hurt, and I can’t afford either.

When I got to the yard, Heath was waiting for me at the gate and he held me there for several minutes while he jumped up to kiss my face and wiggle and make his little grateful and yet chiding whiney sounds at me, to let me know how sincerely wounded he was to be left behind. He became the obvious choice.

I had put some thought into how I was going to handle him, and decided to also kick it around with his breeder who is a professional dog trainer and always has wonderful input on how to help Heath to reach our goals. With a pocket full of dog treats we headed out to where I had my horse tied up. Heath was jumping, running ahead of me, sniffing and wandering and doing his own thing. He ran across the big corral, excited to be out loose and went under the fence to peek in the barn. One of the cowdogs lives there and isn’t especially fond of pups or other dogs in “his” territory. I was happy to see Heath take the hint and slowly back away with his tail wagging and his head turned away in a kind of submissive posture. It shows he is thinking and not acting like a testosterone crazed dipwad who loves a challenge. I prefer a dog who tries to get along. He seems to be that dog.

I called him as I got my horse up alongside the mounting block I required, but as I stepped up, Heath once again, walked under the horse and was just kinda being clueless. I had already spent some time teaching him tricks like “get behind” using arm signals so he knew what that meant and just needed to apply it to riding. I gave the signal and told him to get behind and tossed a treat behind the horse as we rode away. Heath scarfed it up then went to run past me and again, I repeated the action Each time Heath got his treat then headed past me to explore and I repeated the command. It didn’t take but a couple of minutes for him to realize, if he didn’t stay behind my horse, he was likely to miss some treats. We rode for about 20 minutes up and down the long lane toward the pastures and he placed himself perfectly behind me at a walk and trot as I occasionally praised him and tossed a treat behind me. Then we did a few sit-stays and down-stays while I rode away from him. He did a fantastic job. It felt so good to have my partner with me and to have him actually complying and still having a great time. We have a little more work to do, to be a bit more solid, as he needs to be able to perform this well with the distraction of other horses, dogs and cattle around him, but I am really looking forward to the day he can go with me for every ride.

And that dark cloud that had enveloped me for months, dragging me down and making me feel hopeless? It has disappeared completely, the Son has come out to shine on my life and I am looking forward to getting stronger and healthier in spite of my disease, and riding every possible day that I can. Hope is back.

There's No Place Like Home!

I apologize for being very inconsistent in my blogging …but I have finally returned home and am nearly ready to pick life back up where it left off…almost.

After having my knee replaced, I spent the following six weeks living in a reclining chair in my son and daughter in law's home. I was lovingly cared for, my son Cody bringing me coffee each morning he was home and a plate of dinner each night, when he wasn't gone at work, at the picture above. He works about 80 hours a week, so it's a pretty big deal when he's home. My daughter-in-law (known as a DIL, or Krystal, or Laura for the sake of brevity and a swollen right hand) cared for me most of the time. She is responsible for finally finding a surgeon capable of replacing my big mess of a knee. Every day she gets up early, feeds the kids then races off to work at the hospital where she often has to combat someone crazy in order to do her job, but she comes home each evening to help her older little person, Abby, do homework (I was amazed to see her doing "would, could, know, knee, too, two, to and other trick words in first grade and properly applying them. Most adults aren't that literate these days. I was still a year away from "See Jane Run" when I was in first grade) fix dinner, run two girls to gymnastics, find cuddle time with the very little person, do the dishes, the laundry and get them both showered and into bed…then add me to the mix! My oldest son drove an hour and a half one evening to deliver a care package to help my very upset stomach as I could not eat or keep anything down for days. The care package was lovingly packed by my other DIL, Laura who had just had surgery herself.  Later, when I was a bit better, she drove an hour and a half EARLY in the morning through Tule Fog to take me to Dr appts…TWICE! I don't think I would have done so well without the love of my family. They are the absolute best.

Aside from the fact that they live in the city (in a really nice house) with a "drummer" next door, and I say that loosely as he apparently only knows 3 beats and plays them over, and over and over, day after day after day, a garbage truck that sounds like hurricane force winds and no critters, not cows, chickens or even dogs, it was a good time. The little people entertained me and my almost constant companion, (along with the sitter) 3 yr old Kinley, placed pillows under my leg, brought me ½ glasses of water (so it wouldn't spill) and shared her popcorn and, unfortunately her favorite cartoon with me…several times a day. (I believe I can probably recite every word of Garfield and Micky Mouse clubhouse in my sleep) She is quite taken with TheMan, otherwise known as Papa Randy. He just sits on the couch staring at the TV while she chatters at him and leans against him, and this has won him the highest esteem. Everyday I heard "I like Papa Randy, I LOVE Papa Randy" and so on and so forth. Once he returned to the ranch I assumed it would be MY turn to be popular. One day I told her "Kinley!" She answered "What?" I said "I love you!!" and with a sweet smile she looked at me and said "And 'I' love Papa Randy!"

Another day, Krystal took the girls and I for a pedicure. I was having difficulty getting into the chair and the lady asked "Are you all right??"
To which the older little person replied "She IS 59!" As if that was the root of all my problems. I couldn't stop laughing long enough to get up! I love the way these guys think. The first time I walked without a cane, the littlest little person screamed "LOOK AT GRAMMY KIM!!! SHE'S WALKING!"

I thought "oh, how sweet that she is happy for me!" Then she said "Now she will call Papa Randy and he will HAVE TO COME DOWN!!!"

It was a lot of laughs, a lot of love and finally the Dr told me I could come home, milk my cow, ride my horse when I felt ready and go see the surgeon in 6 more weeks. I missed TheMan and the Maremmas something awful. All the new lambs were born in my absence and the dogs took care of them.

The dogs are great about not only keeping the predators away, but if the ewe doesn't mind, they will often help dry the baby carefully and watch over it while she delivers a twin or triplet. The lambs often cuddle with the dogs or play on or around them and the dogs accept that with grace and patience. There were 7 lambs this year from 4 ewes. One ewe did die from unknown causes when her ewe lamb was only a couple of weeks old so she is on a bottle now. I look forward to going out and watching them play.

Sushimoo is back in and we will be weaning her very soon. The calf will go with the other young calves and I will be milking Sushi. It's been far too long since we have had good raw milk and buying milk products just bugs me no end. I  can't wait to make mozzarella and cream cheese, more ice cream and of course homemade butter!

The hens and ducks are laying eggs and I can't wait to start baking with the duck eggs. I keep hearing how wonderfully light and fluffy baked goods are with them! We'll be eating a lot of egg dishes, as we now have 66 eggs and this far from town I can't exactly gift or sell them.  The ranch cows will start calving in a month or so and that always means leppie calves, so I will be bottle feeding again as soon as my leg and back are stronger. I am looking forward to this spring and summer as I have high hopes for it!

I have a long road to go, but I am on the right road now, healing and getting stronger everyday and it is my hope that I can do all the things I am able to do, and can find a way to get around those things I can no longer do and have them done. Spring will be welcome here, as I am ready for flowers, and color and grass and butterflies. The drought has been just terrible here so we won't be putting the pasture in like we had hoped, or the new fruit trees yet. Maybe next year it will end and we will have a better year.

For now, I will be grateful for all He has done and know I can count on Him for all He will do.

The Ranch Rustics store on Etsy is open again. I will be making and curing soaps and adding them to the list as they are ready to sell. Whipped Tallow is available in Cool Water, Lavender and Bergamot Sandalwood fragrances. Custom fragrance can be made for a small additional cost. Soy wax tarts are available in a variety of fragrances until it gets too warm to ship them.

God bless all and thanks for stopping by!!

Petey

One Day in September

Things have been cooling off considerably. Fall is in the air. Emma Lou has a new suitor. The boss sent an AkaUshi bull over for her, whom we named Mr Miyagi. He was a one night stand. He courted her, piqued her interest and when the sun came up, he was gone. I am sure this did nothing for Emma’s self esteem. She is putting on a brave front though.

The cowboss brought her another beau. This guy was pretty big. He never made it from behind the barn, because he was too snorty and our boss is a great guy and wouldn’t put me in that kind of position. A third bull was delivered, along with 2 of Emma’s heifer friends, Rio and Cholula. They are both orphans that we raised on Emma’s mother, DollyMoo, so they know each other well. They are beef cows and are much larger than  Em’s little Jersey-self, but she doesn’t put on airs.  She is a humble little cow. We figured the two extra cows could feed Lover- boy’s ego while Emma is gone for 15 minutes getting milked. You know how men are.  Miyagi couldn’t handle not being the constant center of attention.

The next morning, I looked out to see Emma Lou, Rio, Cholula, and little Mo, but no bull. I brought Em and Mo in to do the daily milking. I caught Wimpy so I could ride out to find the missing bull again, but before I saddled up, I saw TWO bulls in the big pasture behind the old milk barn. Not two AkaUshis, but beau #3 and  a big old Charolais.

 I was not thrilled to have 2 bulls with my tiny Jersey, and less thrilled to think she could be bred by a Charolais. Lucky for me, he was lame and had a cough, so I summoned the cowboss to look at him and he decided to move him out to the horse pasture until he could be shipped with the cull cows. Back down to one bull and feeling relieved. 

As if we weren't fortunate enough to just be living here on the ranch and having a great boss with a really neat family to work for, we also are blessed that he is letting Em date an AkaUshi bull. This breed is very rare and highly controlled. The only purebred herd in the United States is in Texas. The meat from these cattle is unique in that it actually lowers cholesterol

and is healthier for you than chicken and turkey. It is heavily marbled, however, and extremely tender. It sells for about $95 for a 6 oz filet...unprepared. Ground beef goes for $6 a lb. We are hoping against hope for a heifer because we need a milk cow that will be lower maintenance than Emma and Dolly. Right now, Em gets full time pasture, of course, in addition to alfalfa hay, and 20 lbs a day of grain and supplements! This is just to try and maintain her condition while she makes 6 gallons of milk a day. The milk is awesome but it don't come cheap!

A Jersey/beefer cross would probably produce a lot less milk, but would hopefully maintain condition on hay and pasture. That would be a huge savings for us and the resulting calves would make better freezer calves to boot. Em will always be my special cream cow though. She did do a good job on her first calf, Fat Willy. He's 1/2 Angus and at 3 mo. is almost as big as she is!

He has an affinity for hotdogs.

I really think he just wants to eat anything that is in front of him.


The leppies are in the process of being weaned, as I have got to get everyone more independent. I have a very important and special trip to make. There is a new VIP for me to meet and my little Abster is a big sister now! Kinley Grace arrived last Saturday night. She is gonna help her sister shake up the world. I know they have been shaking up the household as I hear no one there has gotten to sleep before 3 a.m. yet. Personally, I think a couple of chickens and a pet cow would solve the problem, but I'm having a hard time convincing their folks.

I digress.

Another day went by and I woke up to find TWO BULLS again! This time, Mr Miyagi showed up again and was chumming around with  the Bachelor #3. I have since dubbed the pasture “The Oyster Bar”. It seems to be feast or famine for poor Emma Lou. She’s taking it out on me. This morning she gave me 2 1/2  gallons of milk, and not a drop of cream. Luckily, I still had some from last week, so today I made peppermint ice cream, which is MY favorite.

Our new sheep are here. They are CUTE as buttons. I wanted Katahdin ewes and a Dorper ram, but no Katahdins were to be found. So we have 3 little Dorper ewes and a Dorper ram.  Both breeds are ‘hair sheep’. Instead of having to deal with shearing and tail docking, these sheep will shed in the summer. They are more parasite resistant, better foragers, mature earlier, they are not seasonal breeders and because of the lack of wool and lanolin, they taste sweeter and don’t get that strong muttony flavor so many people dislike. This is all research info, I have yet to know this for myself, but I look forward to finding out. What I do know for certain, is that these guys are cute, really cute. They are not nearly as flighty and silly as my other sheep. They are very courageous for their small size and they are voracious eaters. We tossed them a flake of hay and it was like a feeding frenzy. Piranhas would not have been more focused on their feasting. They took right up with the other 3 sheep and have settled in like old timers. I have no idea when they are due to lamb, but it will be fun and I know the pups will be so excited to have babies to watch over again. They love their critters as much as I do. Maybe even more. Cletus just KNEW there was something special in the trailer when it got here last nite. I had a heck of a time dragging him back to the house so we could unload these guys without them having a panic attack from seeing their first “Polar bear”.

Cletus so wants to be a sheep. He'll do anything to blend in...

Cletus and Bruno introduced themselves at the first opportunity. They got bopped in the nose by one little ewe, but undeterred, they checked each one out, did a perimeter patrol and went to take their morning naps.

Time for me to clean up the house, and turn the cheeses. We have 2 more wheels of Pepper-Jack and a Parmesan curing. The Pepper-Jack is ready in another month. The first one I made tasted pretty darn good. The Parmesan has to cure for 10 months, so I hope it turns out well, as I need to keep making it so its always on hand. Darn its great having a cow. But I do still miss DollyMoo so very much.

I peeked out after doing the dishes and found a large snail trail on the porch. Looking down, I found the culprit.

He keeps climbing in the whiskey barrel waterfall and using it as his personal spa. I’m not sure why, but it makes him smell like stinky feet. I wonder if they make “Odor Eaters” for dogs....