Karbon Kounty Moos

The girls went to their new homes on Friday.

It was time. It is sad, but it’s also exciting.

One day last week I looked back at the chain on the bale spinner as I fed. I thought, “Allan used to break that a couple of times a year.” Apparently, I called on the Law of Attraction. Yes, all I did was think about it two days earlier. Two little spins and the roller chain was split.

I dropped the bale in the pasture and headed for the shop. Rudy was at the gate, so I showed him my broken chain. Thank goodness for Rudy. It was cold and windy, and we were working without gloves. Neither of us have hands that work well. I didn’t have reading glasses with me. I can’t see anything close without magnifying glasses. Rudy’s vision isn’t any better than mine. We worked together, not like “the blind leading the blind”. Neither fell in a pit. Rudy removed the broken link ends and explained how to put the new one on. We managed to loosen the box that the sprocket was on and get the chain on. The fun had just begun.

It took tears (not really), teamwork, thanks and time, but I got the new pin link in. I’m sure that we used tools never intended for the job. The connecting link plate went on easily. The spring clip was another story. Tears were called for, but I didn’t cry. I did swear once. We were working by feel without working fingers with a wicked west wind. Wow - what an alliteration! When I did get the clip on, I was shocked. Rudy tightened everything up and got the grease gun. He found a zerk that was plugged and removed it. I stuck it in the vise, grabbed a hammer, found a nail and unplugged it. We get creative, and we get it done.

I returned to the pasture, picked up the hay bale and spread it. Then I let the cows out. You’d think that they were starving.

Later that day I had my Remicade infusion. We’re all in need of repair. Even Mister Ty is wearing the lampshade on his head again.

The calves are gone. The cows are not happy with me right now.

They have.

“Winter” storm warning. It has been snowing on and off since Thursday night. I had to go to Red Lodge yesterday. I was ordered to the Clinic when I admitted that I had a fever. Well, I finally found the thermometer. I first went in on Monday morning and was sent home with antibiotics, orders NOT to take my methotrexate and a bag full of tricks.

So yesterday I was thrilled to have to get myself as together as humanly possible for the drive over “the hill”. I took my co-pilot, for company, and so she’d quit flinging herself at the picture windows. Sugar’s getting to be quite a little chunk, and I’m not sure how strong those windows are.

The ride wasn’t bad, there was only real snow from Washoe to Red Lodge. It was snowing like mad there. I was looked at again, and sent to the pharmacy with new prescriptions. I felt like roadkill, but since I was out I picked up some groceries (frozen pizzas), and staggered into Subway for a sandwich.

When I got home I ate three bites of the sandwich and gave the rest to the dogs. Sugar ate the olives, tomatoes and lettuce that Ty and Lucky spit out. I’m hoping that this levaquin will kick in and that I can keep ignoring the RA symptoms. I still feel like roadkill.

The other thing about this snow - it makes skunky smelling dogs (and cats) renew their odor.

The Off might as well be ON. The dogs drop and roll. I haven’t tried that routine - yet.

It’s impossible to dispatch hordes of mosquitos with your hands full. While irrigating they cover me. I do the wipe and swat, after letting go of some sticks, the shovel or dams. It must be amusing to see from the road. “Hey, look - that crazy woman is dancing again, watch those arms swing.” I haven’t knocked myself out with the irrigating shovel - yet.

Every time I’ve speed mowed, I have beaten my previous time. Sitting out on the deck with half a hundred citronella candles, I’ve begged the bats to do a better job. It doesn’t matter, I can’t stay out there.

Where’s the snow?

This sounds familiar.

On the way to the wild horse range I spotted this eye catching herd of Buelingo cattle.

This was just sent to me from Kristi Pettis, Associate Ag Director at Northern Broadcasting.

A little more wait and see.