Karbon Kounty Moos

The Sunday before Christmas, a friend and I went to Cody. As soon as I crossed the state line, I said to Nada, “I have to remember that I’m in the Cowboy State.” We were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention to the speedometer. Not long after, I saw the cruiser lights behind me. I pulled over, fumbling for my license, registration and insurance card. Actually, I couldn’t get my license out of my wallet, it was in there so tight. The police officer was very young and very serious. He asked, “Do you know why I stopped you?” I said, “How fast was I going?” Apparently 47 in a 35 is not a good thing. The officer went back to his car with my papers. I had never been pulled over before. Oh, I’ve been a passenger in vehicles that were pulled over more times that I care to admit, but I was never stopped while driving. I was wishing that I hadn’t recently viewed Super Troopers. The thought of the movie was making me laugh. When he came back to my car, he wished me a Merry Christmas and asked me to slow down. I apologized again for not paying attention, thanked him and also wished him Merry Christmas.

Not long after, Sugar and I traveled to Billings. I was just getting up to speed out of Bridger, singing along with the radio. I noticed a Carbon County sheriff vehicle make a u-turn. I was being pulled over. Once again, I got my papers together as the law enforcement vehicle sat behind me with lights blazing. Deja vu. The serious young deputy asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” I asked, “How fast was I going?” He replied, “You were going eighty, and the speed limit is seventy.” I said, “Oh. I’m sorry, I was singing with the radio, I was not paying attention to my speed, and I was only keeping up with the rest of the traffic.” He shook his head and took my documents. He sat in his vehicle behind me for what seemed like a long time. When he came back he handed me a written warning and told me sternly, “Slow down!”.

So, if you are passed by a toaster in Montana, I swear that it isn’t me. I have been re-introduced to my cruise control.

Yesterday was stormy. Thunder, lightening and lots of rain. I had to drive to Billings for a few things, including a replacement for my camera that I lost on Sunday. When I got home, the driveway was a river and the rain was coming down in sheets. I handled most of the packages, three wet and excited dogs, two telephone messages and my heated up take out supper. I still need to finish unloading the car.

This morning it was pouring buckets when I let the dogs out. I noticed that there was mud on the east side of the place. It looked like it had come in a wave. Oh, no. . . the basement was flooded - with mud - the east and the south side. What a mess. The ditch must have washed across the driveway during the night.

Silvertip Creek looked high when I went to get the mail. It wasn’t finished.

Normally, it would look like this:

That’s as close as I get. No, not to her, but to having anything resembling good luck. After a morning full of delays - waiting for someone, I took off for Billings with the stock trailer yesterday. I had three old cows and three huge steers of my father-in-law’s to bring down to the yards. Sugar came along for the ride, which was relatively uneventful - on the way down. After I unloaded the cattle I discovered that I couldn’t close the trailer door. Hmmmm. . . one the helpful employees of Billings Live took the panel off and we put it in the trailer. I closed the middle gate behind it, wondering why I’d changed into clean boots and Levi’s. Where would I be without that ubitquitous orange twine?

It has saved me on several occasions. I always pick it up, being sure to have some in every vehicle. Along with gloves, sunglasses, tarp straps, toilet paper, blankets, dog hair, horse treats, knives and miscellaneous tools. When I drove through Silesia, an oncoming vehicle kicked up a stone that cracked my windshield. Between Edgar and Fromberg, the mailman pulled out right in front of me. Thank goodness the trailer was empty (not counting manure), because if I still had my fat load on it, I would not have been able to brake like I was forced to. Note to mailman: that little flashing light on the top of your car does not give you the right to pull out in front of everyone. Try looking first. At Fromberg, I stopped for a calming cup of coffee. It was either that or wait for the mailman.

I was in Billings yesterday when I realized that I was nearing this building. I parked right in front. Now, that is something that someone familiar with driving in NYC can appreciate. With the history lesson from the post on the postcard, I thought that a recent photograph was in order. I wasn’t able to shoot from the same vantage point as the 1907 photographer, but except for the stairs - the building looks the same. I still haven’t found the time to actually go in the building.
There are more photos on my flickr stream.

Parmly Library history.

This card was mailed to Mr. F.D. Miller, Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Whoever expected to be in Jamestown, N.D. that night also wrote on the back of the card:

Worked on a ranch here 8 days.

The card was published by Chapple Drug Co., Billings, Mont. It was postmarked Billings, 05 Aug 1907

This card was never mailed. It’s a C T Photochrom, published by J.J. Casey, Post Office News Store, Billings, Mont.

I did find a new place to view and purchase postcards today.
You can visit Kat Postcards.

Spent most of the afternoon in Billings. Had to pickup alfalfa seed. Checked on the pump motor. Was told that it would be ready later in the day. So when I went to pick it up I was surprised to find out that it wasn’t ready. Oh well, I guess that I’ll put the 120 miles on the car tomorrow.

Yesterday, most of the knuckleheads had moved. Back to where I had moved them from. I went all the way up to the high water well, anyhow. As I approached the solar panels, I noticed was that the pump wasn’t pumping. Oh, no… Got out, looked at the pump motor - well done - melted wires and all. Couldn’t have been that way too long though, the water tank was full. I stood there for a moment, listening to the batteries cooking, hissing, spitting, sputtering and splashing acid. Hmmm… Here goes nothing. Touched a wingnut. Well, no shock there, so I disconnected the first battery wire. Then the second. Went to the toolbox. Back to the motor. Disconnected the wires. Back to the tool box. Took the motor off the pump jack. Put it and the belt in the pickup. Looked at the batteries again. Didn’t want to mess with them, but disconnected every wire and box on the thing, and brought all of it with me.

The guys weren’t too thrilled about the burnt out motor. But they seemed glad that I had taken it home.

Worked on the books this morning. Had half a dozen things to do before I could run to Billings to have the motor fixed again. This is the same motor that was repaired earlier this summer. I didn’t get “to town” until after noon. When I left, I noticed the baler was stopped in the field. So I drove over to check if it was something major (NO) or if I’d need to stop for parts for it, too (YES). Dropped off a couple of things in Bridger, stopped at the bank and the Post Office - then hit the road. There’s construction at Rockvale, but still made decent time.

The work on the motor won’t be started until tomorrow, so I’ll be back in Billings before the week is out. What I really need to do is get in the garden and try to locate my vegetables. Most of the weeds are taller than me, since I haven’t found five minutes to work in the garden in the past month.

After reading Donna Healy’s article on Greek food in Billings, I’m craving souvlaki. I do know Mary Ladas - and hope that I’m still baking and shaking when I’m her age.

Time for me to bring my grain harvesters a snack in the oatfield.