Karbon Kounty Moos

This unused postcard has no information on the publisher or the artist. I’d like to know more about it. Why is the cowboy carrying his boots? Is there another card depicting him tossing his boots at the horse?

I can usually catch my horse, after he makes a fool of me for a little while. Tuffy loves his treats. But the Sugarbeet Baron’s horse is another story. And it’s not because I doctored Teeter for so long last year. My husband has always had a time with him.

We let the cattle drift Thursday. Friday afternoon we rode and brought them up higher, to a windmill. It did rain while we were riding, but it was light and felt nice. This year there are wildflowers that I’ve never seen before. I guess that they were dormant, and this year’s moisture did the trick. After we brought the horses back down - actually, the horses brought us down - we drove up to work on the pump. That’s when it really started raining. Lightning, thunder and some slick driving. We saw a variety of birds and quite a few pronghorn.

Friday night we had a strange windstorm. No precipitation at all, but wicked winds from the west. I could see lightning flashing across the sky to the east for hours. It wasn’t striking down, but from north to south, lighting the sky over the Pryors. I went outside to rescue some clothes from the line, and to call the cat. I found one of my birdhouses smashed - but it fortunately had no occupants. Rocky was nowhere to be found. I was starting to feel too much like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, so I gave up. I woke up around midnight. It had calmed down, and Rocky was waiting at the door. The lightning was cracking over Red Lodge then.

On Saturday we traveled to Emblem to pickup more bulls. It was a beautiful morning for a drive, and we were happy to see so much green grass. We brought the boys home, branded them and introduced them to the girls. The Baron went back to his corn field. I came back to a home in desperate need of cleaning, and a lawn needing to be mowed.

Now you know where I am.

A new Western Image postcard - photo by Garry Walter

I haven’t been near the computer or the telephone. Sorry about the unanswered messages. I hope to get some of that done this evening. It looks like the next few days will be spent moving more cattle around. We’ve been doing that with the pickups and trailers when we’re able. Which means when it has been dry enough. I did go up and catch my horse, Tuffy (who was not in the pasture depicted) this morning.

If I had a gun I may have taken care of the Baron’s steed.

I took off to Red Lodge for a fasting blood draw and left that horse to his owner. I did hide the guns first. My husband managed to catch him without any more blood shed. After lunch, we sorted cattle through the poop soup in the corrals and loaded them into the trailers. It’s eight miles out, and impossible to ride right now. After a few trips, we dropped one of the trailers and checked the water situations. The windmill was whipping, the tank and pond were full. The pump jack was pumping like mad, and the water tank was overflowing there, too. Then we noticed that a cable was frayed, so we disconnected the jack from the solar panels. The Baron is working on that. Well, we’re on the way back out to get it going again.

Later. . .

As I’ve read Karbonkountymoos over time, K’s stories
of Montana life have intrigued me greatly, because my
area (Tampa, Florida) is quite unlike Carbon County.
Cows and horses are rarely seen roaming the streets
where I live, although it is not unheard of to see
wandering alligators or escaped pythons and monitor
lizards. Unlike K, I rarely see cowboy boots, saddles,
rodeos or ranches– and if I happen to see someone
wearing chaps, it just means that I’ve accidentally
wandered into a gay bar on Leather Night.

So I decided to broaden my horizons and visit K in
Reno Township! It was terribly exciting, and I made
sure to wear my most fashionable cowgirl outfit before
heading on out to help K on her daily rounds, which
frequently include buying spare parts, driving
tractors, baling hay, buying more spare parts,
catching horses and cattle punching.

Unfortunately, I misunderstood the term “cattle
punching”, which turned out to be rather a problem.
After a hearty breakfast of hardtack and coffee, I
volunteered to punch the cattle while K ran out for
spare parts. After dodging a few tumbleweeds and
saddling up Ol’Bessie, I organized all the cows and
started punching them, one after the other. It was
very sweaty work, and I think I sprained my wrist!
Later, when I grew tired, I resorted to light
slapping, then finally just making horrible faces at
them instead. Understandably, they were quite upset
over the whole business and stampeded in an alarming
manner, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust and
yards of broken fencing.

Luckily, K is used to running out to look for spare
parts, so the fence should be no problem. And now I
know that cattle punching just means moving cows
around, feeding them, and moving them around some
more. Sorry K! I hope you find them.

Later I tried driving the tractor to help with the hay
baling, but I accidentally ran over her pump after
being startled by a rattlesnake. Water was
everywhere, and then K had to go run out for spare
parts again! Good thing she has all that practice.

I tried grooming the horses too, but they don’t seem
to appreciate the benefits of exfoliation, facial
masques or pedicures and things like that. And waxing?
Forget about it! Plus, have you ever tried giving a
horse highlights? They refuse to stand still, and
they just GLARE at you with those long faces. So that
was a total wash too.

So I left Montana, a wiser but completely exhausted
young person, impressed with the huge amount of work
that K does each and every day. I certainly hope she
is appreciated. Thanks K! Sorry about the mess. You
can come and visit me in Florida!

* In the photo below, you can see me in my charming
cattle punching outfit, as I look for the missing
cows.

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

In case there’s any confusion -
this guest post was written by L of Random Speak.
I did punch a cow once, but she really deserved it.
Thanks for all the help, L!
Moos

Yesterday, it didn’t rain - or snow. We woke to a thick fog that started clearing just before noon. The day was warm, but it will take a lot more warm days to start drying out the messes here. We spent part of the day in the muddy hills. We also spent too much time trying to move an ornery (now there’s a word I never used before marrying a farmer) bull to another pasture. We got it done, but we were tempted to get a gun.

On Friday, we received a package in the mail from QVC.
It was lily bulbs from my mother. She went in the hospital at the end of March, so she must have ordered them a while before that. Lilies are one of my favorites. I dug most of my Oriental lilies last year and moved them to a new location. I also have those orange daylilies that grow wild all over. Those lilies froze this spring, and I’m hoping that they’ll come back from the roots. I’d never seen them freeze before.

Even Rocky likes lilies.

I did manage to get the lawn mowed before I took off for New York. It now resembles a hay meadow. I’m going to attempt that today. As wet as it is, it should be fun.

I started Karbon Kounty Moos on a Friday the 13th,
so this is an anniversary of sorts.

Another unused “Dude” Larsen Postcard
Illustrated by “Hoke” Denetsosie,
Navajo Indian Artist
Copyright 1949

Here are a few links to peruse, some old and some new.

Fellow Montana Bloggers:

Just Thoughts - thanks again to Chuck for getting me started.

An Offering of Myself to the World - Pandora’s a neighbor (in that Montana way) and another blogger who knows her sugarbeets.

The Last Best Place - Speaking of beets, here’s Mike’s new place.

Fellow Bovine Bloggers:

PDCA - A blog devoted to a great little breed of cattle - and Richard keeps it entertaining.

Thoughts from the Middle of Nowhere - Sarpy Sam keeps us thinking.

Fellow Blog Broads:

Ramblings of a Red Neck Diva - Kristin’s the baby sister from Oklahoma that I never had. She’s the one who always got her mouth washed out with soap. It didn’t work.

Random Speak - L blogs from Florida - with an irreverent sense of humor; an incredible sense of style; and more odd art than you can shake a stick at. L has promised to guest post here soon.

I was always under the impression that talking about the weather was
“small talk”.

That all changed when I married a farmer.

Here’s a link to Lorna Thackeray’s article in today’s Billings Gazette regarding the extreme weather here in Carbon County and other parts of Montana and Wyoming. Gazette reporter Becky Shay also contributed to this article.

Once there be sure to view the Photo Gallery of flood photos from Gazette photographers and Carbon County residents. Some of the photos were taken in the Sheridan, Wyoming area.

It snowed most of the night here. We’re still in poop soup, but it is covered with an attractive layer of snow.

When you wake to a snoring spouse and are unable to locate your earplugs under the pillows?

I didn’t think so. But it’s okay. I haven’t had two seconds for blogging - or anything else lately. Now I can take a few minutes to do just that.

Rain, rain and more rain. . .

Remember this?

Well, we’re still at it. The Friday that I got home was the last time that it snowed here - but more has been promised - or was that a threat? I don’t think that it’ll make up for all the years of drought, but the rain is wonderful. To a point. . .

We managed to get the corn fertilizer in before the latest storms. My husband didn’t finish planting the corn, though. He did get one field drilled. He was about halfway through the second field Saturday, when he had to stop - rained out. We’ve no idea when he’ll be able to get back in that field, or to the third one. But at least our beets didn’t freeze. Farmers and seed salesmen are scrambling all over. Trying to get fields replanted.

We are currently at the stage that I refer to as poop soup.

Which is not for the faint of heart. We’re feeding in pastures that resemble sponges in water filled sinks. We’re using the round bale feeders for hay, and bedding with straw - trying to create a few “dry for a few minutes” spots. We still have the replacement heifers in the feedlot with their yearling bull boyfriends, so we also need to run the feeder truck. We’re keeping a round bale on the tractor spear, just for the weight. The mud and puddles are unbelievable. The laundry is worse.

Cow update - Hardhead still refuses to let the calf suck (or for those with delicate senses - nurse). It has been a very long two months. How’s that for dedication? Or masochism? Her hobbles came off just before I left for NY. Yes, you have read that right. Letting a 1500 pound cow beat the snot out of a calf is not an option. No matter, I’d still have to corner her in the corral to permit the calf her meal. Which takes time from other feeding chores. The Baron said that while I was gone, he’d spend 1-1/2 to 2 hours more every shift feeding, simply because I wasn’t there. It’s good to be missed - or at least needed. Dealing with this pair was not the high point of his days. Well, I kicked the pair out to one of the pastures Friday. I knew that I’d still have to “corner” the cow, but I was so disgusted. My thoughts: they’d have more room; the calf could play with her peers; and the cow could do the same with the bulls. On Sunday, I received my Mother’s Day gift. When I opened the gate to the pasture, Brownie (yes, I named her that - she’s black Angus, but her hair is lighter than most) came running up to me, bellowing. She and I slogged through the mud, looking for her “mom”. Then my husband came in with the tractor, so I started walking to the feeders. Which was where I spotted Hardhead who then called the calf to her. I was amazed. That was the first time she ever did that. Unfortunately, it was also the last.

Monday afternoon, the Sugarbeet Baron was returning from the big town of Belfry. He noticed a four wheeler driving across one of his beet fields. Yes, across the field. He pulled into his dad’s yard and blocked its exit. The guy on the 4-wheeler left his helmet on, didn’t get off the machine or identify himself. My husband swore that he didn’t have a shovel or gun in his hand when he confronted him. The helmet head said that he was working for a utility company - but not who he was. He had earlier asked my father-in-law if he could check something. Who told him okay. There are roads around our fields and on the ditchbanks. Yet this clown drives across a soggy planted field. After some “discussion”, he left the yard, loaded his 4-wheeler into a pickup - which was parked on another part of the place, and disappeared. So my afternoon was spent on the telephone - trying to locate someone at the utility company. We received a call back on Tuesday. The engineer of the area is looking into it. I’ll keep you posted.

I don’t hear any snoring, so I’m headed back to bed.

Now, you know that I never blog about politics.
And no, I’m not about to start now.

While I was blog visiting today I came upon this truly
enlightened post
by that Famous Fun and Flirty Floridian L of Random Speak.
I just had to share it with anyone stopping by here.

Enjoy!

Why simply have a bad hair day?

I have celebrity hair days.

I have baby fine hair and it loves to snarl. When I was little, my mom always kept my hair short. It was easier and less stressful for her. I grew accustomed to people thinking that I was the oldest son. Once my hair hits my shoulders, it’s okay - but any longer than that just doesn’t work. Sigh…. I always wanted long hair.

But then, I always wanted long legs, too.
Some things just aren’t meant to be.

I woke up this morning with Don King hair.
That’s my reward for going to bed with my hair wet.

Image courtesy of Boxing’s Finest

Often, when I’m outside working and I catch a glimpse of my reflection,
the first person I think of is
Gallagher.

No, I don’t have the mustache, but with my hair smashed under a cap - this is pretty close to my “style”. And no, I’m not bald on top. Yet.

Well, it was just me and the Taurus. I didn’t bring any music, so I “made do” with the radio. I made several observations traveling I-94. I made more observations of people; being back in NY; and behavior at funerals and in funeral homes. But for now, I’ll just share my scribblings from the trip east and the trip back home. I deciphered them as best as I could. My memory is okay, but my scribbling isn’t.

Thursday, 21 April 2005

I departed home at 9:53 A.M., setting the trip odometer to 0. I stopped at the Bank of Bridger. It started snowing. I stopped at the “Evil Empire of WalMart” to pickup a few things quickly. No such luck. I needed to get rid of some coffee. Of course one restroom was under construction and the other was being cleaned. . .

Back on the interstate 11:25 A.M. Snow, and lots of it - which was followed by rain and fog.

Arrived in Miles City 1:20 P.M. - 202.2 miles. Filled fuel tank. Emptied coffee holding tank. Drove out of the precipitation. There’s this phenomena that happens on long road trips. You pass someone who’s poking along. Further down the road you stop for a pit stop. You head out and meet up with that vehicle again and have to pass them. This happened to me with a white car that was doing sixty in the left lane. Twice I passed him. The third time I passed him I thought, “Hmmm. . . that’s not the same guy - that’s an Impala.” It also said Prairie County Sheriff on the door. Not a good thought flying by at ninety miles an hour in the right lane. I eased up on the accelerator and kept on. Oops. . . Not one vehicle passed me in Montana.

Arrived in North Dakota at 2:50 P.M. - 313.6 miles. Public radio wasn’t too bad! Stopped in Bismarck for fuel. 472.3 miles. Not one vehicle passed me in North Dakota.

Arrived in Minnesota at 7:40 P.M. - 665.4 miles. Stopped in Alexandria for fuel at 10:25 P.M. C.S.T. Flew through the Twin Cities - good timing.

Arrived in Wisconsin 1:53 A.M. - 924 miles.

Stopped in Eau Claire, WI for the night at 2:52 A.M. - 983.6 miles

Couldn’t sleep. . .

Friday, 22 April 2005

Fueled up. Departed Eau Claire. 8:36 A.M. Weather went from overcast to rain quickly.

Arrived Illinois 11:15 A.M. - 1214.2 miles. Headed south on 51 to I-80 attempting to avoid some of the Chicago traffic on a Friday. That plan didn’t work well. But it was scenic - even in the pouring rain. Hit I-80 at 1295 miles. Still trying to find a station that isn’t country.

Stopped in Ottawa, IL to eat - finally. 1308.7 miles. Fueled up 3:05 P.M. C.S.T.

Back on I-80 for lots more tolls, traffic and rain.

Arrived Indiana. Fueled up in Howe, IN 6:42 P.M. 1502.4 miles.

Arrived Ohio 1533.4 miles.
Pouring rain and poor visibility - according to the radio - this will be turning to snow soon.

Stopped in Elyria, OH at 9:57 P.M. E.S.T. - 1681.6 miles Would have like to have continued east, but the weather wasn’t cooperating. Just when I located an oldies station.

Slept well, after I realized that the noise in my room was coming from the elevator.

23 April 2005

Depart Elyria, OH at 9:21 A.M. - 1681.6 miles. Still pouring and miserable.

Fuel up Mantua, OH 10:17 A.M.

Stop in Bloomsburg, PA to eat. Fuel up Buckhorn 2:59 P.M.
Depart Bloomsburg/Buckhorn 3:10 P.M.

Torrential rain through the Poconos. We’re going 35 m.p.h., the traffic is bumper to bumper. The windshield wipers are at the fastest speed and I still can’t see a thing. It continued like this across the bridge into New Jersey. Decent music on the radio, though. Eight miles into Jersey it finally calmed down. Back to freeway speed. . .

What the heck is EZ Pay? I haven’t been to New York since 1994 - I wasn’t prepared for spending hours waiting to get on the George Washington Bridge. I guess it’s a good thing it’s Saturday. There was an accident in front of me on the entrance ramp to the bridge. Made it over the GW. Bad accident on the Major Deegan. Another accident on the Triboro ramp in front of me.

Drove off the Triboro Bridge into Astoria 2166.1 miles - a bit after 6 P.M. Police were directing traffic - a truck had earlier hit the elevated train line at Hoyt Avenue, so traffic was being diverted.

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

27 April 2005

Depart Astoria 1:17 A.M. (E.S.T.) - set trip meter to 0. According to the toll taker - I was getting the “special rate” on the Triboro $4.50. Traffic light, but still worse than Billings during rush hour!

28 miles out - in New Jersey - it begins pouring.

Arrive Pennsylvania 81 miles.

Stopped in Blakeslee - Poconos 3:20 A.M. - 109 miles. I’m exhausted, the rain is torrential, the visibility is nil. I didn’t want to stop so soon, but I did get that GW Bridge nonsense behind me.

Departed 10:28 A.M. E.S.T. Fueled up and took off. Still raining, foggy and lots of construction.

Arrived Ohio - 394.3 miles.

Fueled up Austintown, OH at 3:10 P.M. - 408.9 miles.

Fueled up Swanton, Ohio at 6:39 P.M. - 582.0 miles.

6:40 P.M. Indiana Toll Road 628.7 - 725 P.M.

Illinois 732.6 miles - Tolls & More Tolls. But I was going through Chicago and the suburbs at the best time traffic-wise.

Fueled up in Oak, Wisconsin at 10:30 P.M. 881.4

28 April 2005

Arrive Madison, WI at 12:40 AM - 990.4 miles - stop for sleep.

Depart Madison 9:25 C.S.T. after eating a greasy donut from the “continental breakfast” with a pretty good cup of coffee. Weather okay, then overcast, then spitting snow.

Fuel Menominee, WI - it’s very cold - 12:11 P.M. C.S.T. - 1177.6 miles.

Arrive Minnesota 1:00 P.M. C.S.T. - 1223.2 miles.

Arrive North Dakota 4:30 P.M. C.S.T. - 1480.4 miles. It’s still trying to snow.

Fuel Casselton, ND 5:02 P.M. C.S.T. - 1501.5 miles.

Stop Jamestown, ND for first meal in two days 5:50 P.M. - 1575.1.

Depart Jamestown.

Fuel Richardton, ND 1748.3. Not one vehicle passed me in North Dakota.

Arrive Montana 1833 miles - I didn’t notice the time. Who cares? I was in Montana!

Fuel up Miles City 1944 miles - 11:33 P.M.

I was never so happy to see the lights of Billings. The air was so still, the smoke of the refineries was going straight up. It was snowing and the roads were slippery. I later found out that two people were killed in a wreck eastbound as I was traveling westbound.

When I got to Rockvale, the snow started that trick of hitting the windshield at an angle. It didn’t matter that the headlights were dimmed, all I could see was white. Once I hit Fromberg, the road was white, too. I knew that I was on the road, but had no idea where. Twenty miles from home and I had to slow down even more. I was afraid that anyone that I did meet would have just been leaving the bar. I only saw two other vehicles. I pulled in the yard at 2:30 A.M. - 2144.7 miles. Oh, and no one passed me in Montana - consistency from beginning to end!

When I got out of the car I saw that it was encrusted with ice. I had to get back in the car to open the doors from inside.

I forgot to kiss the ground.