Karbon Kounty Moos

This was taken yesterday. Twelve above, still and snowing. Now it’s clear, windy (of course), and trying to get above freezing. One can hope.

I haven’t been keeping up with this place, or my flickr photos. I had a cold that was starting to feel like the plague. But I can’t take a break from the day to day operations of feeding my crew. I carry on. Runny nose, aching back, vertigo, shot shoulders, bum knee and whatever else happens to be going on is ignored for the time being. Once I’m finished outside, I can come in and crash for a while.

Betty Western has tagged me for a meme. And it is a Me Me. I haven’t done one in ages, so I think that it’s time. Please do visit Betty’s place.

Here are the rules. 1. Link to your tagger and post these rules. 2. Share 7 facts about yourself: some random, some weird. 3. Tag 3 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them). 4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

Seven facts about moos, I’m not sure if they’re random or weird or both:

1. I usually have a green thumb outside, but I can’t keep houseplants alive. Maybe it has something to do with the dust bison I raise.

2. I do not consider myself an authority at anything. I know a little bit about a lot of things. I know a lot about a few things. I always want to learn more.

3. I am second generation American. My parents were born in New York, as was I. My paternal grandfather was born in Kalavryta, which makes it extra fortunate that he came to the United States. My paternal grandmother was also an immigrant from Greece. My maternal grandfather was from Galway, Ireland. My maternal grandmother was born in Liverpool, England to Irish parents. Both of my grandfathers died when I was a child, but I do remember them. Both of my grandmothers died long before I was born.

4. I ended up in Williston, North Dakota before I made it to Montana. I like North Dakota. Honestly, I like all of the places that I’ve been. There are four states in the lower 48 that I have never been to. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Kentucky. I hope to see them.

5. My favorite color changes all the time. For the last year or so it has been brown.

6. “Karen, why’d you do that?” My Queens accent comes out when I’m tired or angry. It’s not Fran Drescher, but my vocabulary shamefully will deteriorate to Goodfellas.

7. I love to cook - and eat.

I’m going to tag three bloggers. All are Montana ladies that I have met in real life. I hope that they can find the time for the meme.

Come on, Pandora.

Your turn, Laurie.

Martha - how about a little meme about you you?

Just in time for the first real snow. The calves look good and are eating well.

The cows (and the goofy buckskin) seem content. That pasture is snow covered now. It looks like a good start for next year’s irrigation water.

Sugar insists on coming with me. She isn’t much help, but she is good company.

This was taken two months ago. I’m sure that the autumn colors are long gone.

There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it hardly behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us.
Edward Wallis Hoch, Marion (Kansas) Record
(1849 - 1925)

I arrived early to find out where I needed to be. I walked up the stairs and into the Governor’s office. I explained who I was and why I was there. The first gentleman I spoke with didn’t know what I was talking about. He made a phone call, and a second gentleman came out. That man asked me where Representative Malcolm was. I told him that I didn’t know, and I sat down to wait. Needing to pace, I returned to the hall. I found Craig and we went back to the waiting room. Sandy, Jim and the Malcolms were right behind us. Jennifer McKee introduced herself. Then we were led to a meeting room and introduced to the Governor. And yes, I did pet Jag.

During a lull in the meeting, I explained why I was there. I said that they could put away the calculators. I wasn’t discussing figures.

On the day before Thanksgiving, 2005 my husband, Allan was told that he probably had pancreatic cancer. He had been sick for months before being properly diagnosed. The Monday after Thanksgiving it was confirmed. Circumstances forced us to sell most of our cattle in February 2006. We still had our calves. Allan wanted to sell them at the NILE sale as he had always done. We chose to keep our heifers and I sold the steers a few days after Allan’s funeral. Later that spring I bought a few registered Black Angus low birth weight bulls. Two half brothers were specifically purchased for the heifers. I planned to breed and feed the heifers, and sell them the following year. I kept these girls at home and babied them along. Sandy called in January, 2007 expressing an interest in running the heifers on shares. It was a good idea then - and it would still be a good idea. This was not a major money making proposition for any of us. I was sad when we loaded up the heifers, but happy that I didn’t have to sell them. I knew that they were going to a good place. No one could foresee what happened in May.

There was (and still is) an information/disinformation overload. The media was treated to more information than the ranchers concerned. At the beginning of this fiasco, few knew that I was involved. This unfortunate position led to some interesting conversations. I was treated to gems of gossip, wild speculation and ridiculous rumors. I permitted people to flap their lips.

With all the players in this script since May, one would think that someone from one of the agencies involved would have been in touch with me. After reading an article in the Billings Gazette, I called APHIS to test my cows at home. Is this considered a rapid response? I was losing my herd because of their policy, and I had to contact them?

I understood on May 18th that I was losing my heifer pairs. I read the law. I am not the only person who questions the scientific basis of that law. If livestock considered exposed to brucellosis must be slaughtered, so be it. But wildlife considered exposed to brucellosis are not slaughtered. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist or an epidemiologist to see that this does not make sense.

What a difference between the response to the wildfires of this summer and this disaster. Neighbors traditionally rush to help one another. You always hear about the overwhelming response from the community. Elected officials manage to take the time from their busy schedules to visit the fire lines. They’re right in front of the cameras and microphones, promising aid, making disaster declarations.

Was this not a fire to be extinguished? It seems that it was put out on our backs. This should not have been about politics.

We should not have been caught in a pissing match between acronyms. A friend called it a turf war. I saw battle lines being drawn. People had their own agenda, and it was ugly.

The governor assured me that several universities are working on better vaccines. That is good, but it is not enough.

We need to make an effort to work together toward the eradication of this disease. We need communication between all parties involved and interested. All the acronyms, wildlife advocates, livestock owners, veterinarians, and people who have been through the aftermath of this disease in the past. Some of those scarred from brucellosis have responded to previous entries here. We need people who are willing to sit down and speak rationally.

I was in Helena for the first time in over twenty years. Unfortunately, it was for business. You’ll hear about that in a bit. I enjoyed the drive, but I enjoy driving. The winds near Livingston brought home a point that a friend recently made. He said that my car was as aerodynamic as a brick. I made it safe and sound.

I had a wonderful supper with the Sprout clan. Thanks! I twisted Craig’s arm (not too much) to attend the meeting with Governor Schweitzer the following day.

Yes, I’ll tell you about that later. . .

After the meeting, I thought that I’d wander around downtown. I found an antique store, but my cell phone kept ringing, and I’d walk outside to talk. I suppose that was a good thing.

Mike called to say that he was just getting into town. He, too, had business in the Capitol. We met for lunch, then continued on our not so merry ways.

That evening I caught up with Martha. I met Martha through our blogs and flickr pages. She is an incredible artist. Martha works in different mediums, with a wide range of subjects. Because we’d never met in real life - we got together at McDonald’s. Neither of us exhibited overt Lizzie Borden tendencies, and I suppose that we look relatively safe. In any case, we were comfortable enough with each other to go next door for a Mexican dinner. Thank You! We agreed that we need to get together again. How about a blogger bash somewhere in the middle? Maureen and I were unable to connect, so maybe next time. . .

The next morning I drove home - mostly in the rain. I stopped again at Three Forks for their great coffee and sandwiches.

A few miles outside of Red Lodge, I visited friends. The toaster started misbehaving when I left their house.

It is now in the shop for the same issue. Third time’s a charm, right?

I will be in Helena to meet with the Executive Branch. Does anyone have any questions (regarding brucellosis, please) that they’d like me to ask?

This morning I saw that someone had hit a fox on the lane in front of the house. I put it on the tailgate of the pickup, which chose to die there, too. In the middle of the lane.

I convinced Sugar to leave the fox alone. We walked to the Mule.

The Kawasaki started right up. Then the shifter, too, decided it was a good day to die. So it’s running, it’s just not going anywhere. Deja vu. True to form, the mule is being obstinate about being pushed. Since this happened in front of the garage, my good pickup is now blocked in.

I moved the blocks on the back of the other pickup and disposed of the fox. Without the trailer.

By the time I got back the red and white pickup started. Thank goodness for spares.

The other night I was enjoying some chicken and fresh mountain air outside of Red Lodge. I heard a noise and looked for its source. The willows were rustling, but I didn’t see anything. Realizing how high the movement was, I hustled Ty to the Element.

Hustling Ty means picking him up, pushing, and hoping for the best. By some miracle he didn’t bark.

Thank goodness.

Mydland Bull #269 has the right idea. We are all so tired of the above 100 degree Fahrenheit temperatures for the last few weeks. The valley is buzzing with combines and swathers. The hay and the grain look wonderful. I wish that I could bottle up the scent of the alfalfa blooms for you all to enjoy.

Since she calved last year in September, we’ll call it an early calf. It’s a boy!