Karbon Kounty Moos

after all the bad.

My cattle at home came up negative for brucellosis.

They were tested on Friday and I just got the results.

All of my beautiful heifers tested negative, but are considered exposed and will meet the same fate as the Morgan’s herd.

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’ve already heard the jokes about not knowing my own strength, thanks. . .

I finally got my feeder truck.

I almost kissed the ground. I told the guy who brought it, “I could have walked to Nebraska and pushed the truck home in better time than it was delivered”. But it’s here. It starts, it runs, the brakes work, the scale works and I’ve been using it. It has its flaws, don’t we all? I need to take care of some of that before they become major problems. But it isn’t getting a total makeover - any more than I am.

The cattle are enjoying the variety in their menu.
This is the first year that they weren’t put out on beet tops.
Sugar has decided that she needs to come with me.

Thank goodness she’s small.

This card was printed in Germany, but it doesn’t name a publisher.
It was mailed to : Leo Hudson, North Vernon, Ind. Walnut St.
Postmarked Apr 24 1908 - looks like Kansas City
Postmarked Rec’d Apr 2? 1908 at 8AM in North Vernon, Ind.

It reads (in pencil):
Garden City
April 23
Dear Leo,
We have been spinning along pretty lively today having fine time. Be good & careful.
Mama

It’s just cold. There is nothing romantic about not being able to wash your face because the pipes have frozen. Which means that my cattle don’t have access to water. That is far more important than washing my own face. There’s nothing romantic about a distress call to a friend at 7 A.M. There is nothing romantic about layers of clothes when you’re still cold. There is nothing romantic about not being able to tell if your nose is running. There is nothing romantic about driving twelve miles to buy insulation. There is nothing romantic about plugging in pickups and tractors. There is nothing romantic about diesel gelling. There is no romance in telephone calls about barley, strays, fuel tanks, vaccines and sugar beets.

It may not be romantic. It is my home and my life. I love it.

and now we can.

It isn’t small talk for those who work with and for Mother Nature. It’s as important as it gets. Seventy plus degrees Fahrenheit is nothing to complain about. Combined with a wicked wind - farmers are getting some late haying done.

I just didn’t want them monopolizing the place.

Photo taken 18 October 2005