Karbon Kounty Moos

Times change. Things change. Life happens. Hopefully, we grow.

I am very much alive. I have not been here - on the blog. But I have been here, in Carbon County, Montana with Ty, Lucky, Sugar, Rocky and Tuffy. I haven’t taken the time to post. I haven’t found the time to sit here at the keyboard. I rarely keep up with my telephone correspondence. Ask my friends. Before I married Allan I worked at a desk, with a telephone and a computer. That company did not have internet service then. We took orders over the phone and by mail order. Ahhh, but they were still making their product in the US at that time, too. Sometimes I wish that I had the luxury of constantly being on-line. Then I come back to reality.

I still field the question at least once a week, “You don’t work outside the home?”

Come on in, you’ll see what I get done inside the home. Not much.

This grey morning was spent irrigating pasture. I hid Sugar’s frisbee so I could get some water set. She’s the only one I spoke with this morning. Sugar doesn’t answer me, really. I called her off the road a time or two. She listened. I implored her to quit eating cow pies. Sugar paid me no mind. I always say that it was a good thing I didn’t have children. I can’t even get the dogs to listen to me.

I have had time to think. We always do. What we do with all that thinking is what matters. Way back when - in August of 2004 - I started writing here. I was introduced to blogging shortly before that. Ed Kemmick’s blog, City Lights was the lively place I first encountered. Ed recently called it quits - at least for a while. Hopefully, it won’t be too long a while. I miss that place already. I began writing about day to day happenings here on the farm, or “in the neighborhood.” I’d post photographs, all scanned then. Some were mine, and some were old postcards that I’d collected. After I started taking digital photos, I began posting them to flickr, which quickly became a new addiction. Flickr can be a very real community. I should say communities. Karbon Kounty Moos and Flickr accurately depict much of my life. At least the parts that I chose to share.

I think that everyone who has blogged, or blog commented - and those who post to flickr have had these moments. You are in the middle of something, exciting or mundane - and you think, “I have to blog about this”. Or - “I have to shoot this and post it on flickr”. Remember “Kodak moments?” These are more intense. I never considered myself a journalist, I’m just a person who likes to read and write. And share. I never take myself serious. I was chided on flickr for my “snapshots”. I’m someone who enjoys taking photos, no delusions of grandeur here. I have been accused of being naive and uninterested about politics. Not true. I am very interested in politics. I also collect condom tins, and I know that this is the first time anyone has read that here. There are more than enough political bloggers out there. I am not interested in becoming yet another one. I don’t think there are any condom tin collector bloggers. I mean, other than me.

I have met some wonderful people through blogging and flickr. You know who you are. I met some crazies, too. You know who you are. I would not have met all these people without sitting at the keyboard. I am very thankful for that. I treated my blog visitors as if they were sitting in my kitchen. Some of them actually did. I discovered friends in the most incredible places. All because of my lousy hunt and peck skills. I like to talk, but I do know how to listen. I have a tendency to interrupt that I’ve been trying to break for forty something years. There is no 12 step program for it. I simply ask my friends to point it out to me, and if all else fails, tell me to “shut up.”

My blog readers have been great. You have seen me through the last four years of my life. And what a ride it’s been.

Postcards, fairy tales, and hangovers. Millionaire farmers, harvests and cemeteries. Recipes, bucket calves, and too many dog stories. Radio shows, memes and missing links. Ciphers, my hejira, and my mother’s death. Job descriptions, parts runs and strange encounters. Halfhearted HNT attempts, the Sugar Dog and Rascal Fairs. Gated pipe lessons, sugarbeets and corn. Beer drinking in parking lots, barley and Pioneer Days. Mosaics, bumper crops of eggplant and missing waffle irons. Getting kicked by cows. Allan getting sick. Allan finally diagnosed properly. Being reminded that there are people who take pleasure in other’s misfortunes. Trying not to turn this into a medical blog. Modems, calving and hospice. Losing Allan. Photographs and memories. My wonderings about black clouds and helicopters. Learning to irrigate and run the loader. Fences, rattlesnakes and raccoons. Flowers, cattle, and friends. Songs, silliness, and tractors. Feeder trucks, the romance of ranching, and switching to WordPress. On the radio - but on the cutting room floor, since I was not talking about politics - as usual. Trying my best to maintain these little places. Karbon Kounty Moos and my farm, by myself. It takes a lot of energy and a lot of time. I continued to post photos, work my butt off and laugh at myself.

Everyone gets fed here before me. Too much coffee in the morning isn’t a good idea when you’re wearing coveralls and out in the open. Once I know that everyone else is okay, then I can take care of my needs. Which involves copious amounts of coffee. I learned to do many things by myself these last two years. I have always believed that there’s always more to learn, so that’s been fine with me. I’ve learned a lot about myself and other people. Brucellosis has taught me more. I am tired of repeating myself. I have written (and linked) extensively on my experience, it’s all here. Click on brucellosis at the bottom of this post - you can find all my postings.

Last night when I heard one of the “B” words (the other one is “beets”) on TV, I knew what I had to do. It was time. I haven’t posted since April. Mostly light hearted posts with photos. Yes, I write about my bad luck. It’s excellent blog fodder. Much of it is unbelievable. Especially since it’s happening to me. Why has it been so quiet here? Because it hasn’t been. I may write about my misfortunes, but I don’t think that I am the “whining government farmer” that I’ve been accused of. I really don’t think that’s ever going to happen.

I sold last year’s calves a little earlier this spring than usual. It was probably a good decision. The market was so-so, but I was exhausted and tired of feeding at the lot and in the pasture. Once I did that I could devote myself to the cows and the new babies. Calving went pretty well. My shoulders, back and arms were killing me, but I kept pushing. There was sugarbeet drama, equipment to sell and property to buy. There were friends who needed me, and friends that I needed. There are people who enjoy being thorns in one’s side. I ended up with three bucket calves and hands that wouldn’t work. I was being beat up by baby bovines and my feet hurt so bad I considered the emergency room.

Yes, I had found the time to diagnose on-line. RA. Yes, I have seen a doctor and a rheumatologist. I have not seen a black helicopter in a while, though.

The last few weeks have been hectic. Everything that needs to get done is getting done. Maybe not as quick as it should, but it is getting done. I found happy homes for the bucket calves. My cows are doing well. I even kept some heifers back. I am on medication and keeping my fingers crossed.

What do I know? I know what I’ve read. I know what I’ve heard. But simply because you read or hear something does not make it so.

A bear passed through here last week. I didn’t see it, or hear it, but I know that it was here. No family of raccoons could have made that big a mess. The Raccoon Family Robinson did make a mess before that and has almost every day since, though. I haven’t fixed my (wince) traps.

I know that we had a wolverine here a few years ago for over a month. Research that. Wolverines do not live here, everyone knows that. This is not a pine forest. Well, I was not the only one who saw our wolverine several times in broad daylight.

I know who I am. I know who I’ve been. I know that they are the same person, even through the changes.

Times change. Things change. Life happens. Hopefully, we grow.

I know what I like. I know what I don’t like. I know better than to try to change people or their minds. I have changed. I have often changed my own mind. It is always something that I chose to do. I know who I love. I know that I am loved. I know that my life is good.

Times change. Things change. Life happens. Hopefully we continue to grow.

I went out to check on the cattle in the hills and bring them some salt.
I left the pickup and started walking.

To the east are the Pryor Mountains.

To the west are irrigated fields of the Clark’s Fork Valley.

Here’s the road - that I didn’t take.

Click on photo for LARGE view.

Another reason why those in agriculture always say, “we need the moisture”.

Almost Home
Originally uploaded by moos.

We did get home Tuesday evening. But we’re still on the run. . .

On Saturday, the Sugar Beet Baron decided that we would take some much needed time off on Sunday.
Go for a drive, get off the place, get something to eat out. So much for planning.

We did go for a drive.

We did get off the place.

We had some diet soda and beef jerky - and it was out.

We are not yet chopping corn. You know that if we had been - there surely would have been photos. I do not want to take photos of tired and cranky old farmers banging on iron. I do not want to be in the vicinity of them.
Sorry. . .

I’ve been eating bonbons and watching soap operas. Swatting flies. Canning relish. Feeding the birds. Mowing the meadow - I mean lawn. Wrangling dogs, cat and cattle. Keeping everyone fed, full and fat. Washing filthy farmer clothes. Doing not quite as cruddy other laundry. Entertaining hunters. Yesterday morning a plane circled right over the corn next to the house for about ten minutes. It didn’t bother the elk as much as it upset me and the dogs. I should have thrown rocks. Or come out with a crossbow. . .
If I end up in Deer Lodge or Warm Springs - send bonbons - and cigarettes, please.

I need to get back to the garden. The eggplant needs to be picked, washed, peeled, sliced, salted, dried, egged, breaded, fried, drained, cooled, placed in freezer bags and froze. I only have four plants - with prolific fruit (vegetables?). I’m the only one who eats it. Lucky me. I didn’t know if the freezing would work. I tried it a couple of years ago - and was amazed at the result. Eggplant Parmagiana was never so quick and easy before.

I also need to straighten up the place.
I’ll go get the D4 and a scoop shovel.

It’s impossible to blog from here:

I hope to return to our regularly scheduled blogging soon.

Miss you,
Karen

On Labor Day, my husband, his father and brother went out to build some fence. I was planning on getting a few things done here. I brought dinner out to the hills - eight miles away. I ate with them, but left soon after. Once home, I had half a hundred things that I needed to do. I thought that it would be nice to have the place to myself. Not counting all the pets that I’m entertaining.

Well, it seemed that everyone who could afford gas decided to drop by. Half of the hunters in the county came in the driveway, which excited the dogs. Then I’d have to stop whatever the heck it was I was doing. Go out, wrangle the dogs and answer questions regarding elk, deer and birds.

Next, a pickup with Wyoming plates pulled in. The driver was looking for my husband. He never introduced himself, but said that he was interested in the cat. I told him that our cat was not for sale - but my father-in-law’s might be. Then I gave him directions to Hollenbeck Draw. While this was going on, our bulk dealer pulled in with his fuel truck. The guys looking for the cat left. I visited with Dave for a while, got the bill (you don’t want to know), and directed him to the sweet corn patch.

Okay, what was I doing? Another hunter drove in. Another hunter called on the phone. Another pickup pulled in the yard. I was close to screaming. Then I noticed that it was friends from Billings. Who didn’t come empty handed. They brought peaches, pears, tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers. We went into the kitchen and I put coffee on. Side tracked again, but at least it was enjoyable. No one else showed up while my company was there, but as soon as they left it started all over again. I was able to post some photos to flickr - since I don’t have to sit at the computer waiting while the dialup does its slow trick.

The duo from Wyoming drove in again. Not only did he not find the guys, he asked someone else for directions and went on a wild goose chase. I was more than disgusted by then. After giving him the same exact clear directions that I had given him the first time, I said, “You never told me who you were.” When he told me that they had been on the place looking at the cat, I had to hold my temper. I will never understand people that think it’s okay to drive around on someone’s place. Would he have let me drive around his place? I asked him if he had heard about the cat from John at Powell Equipment. He said, “No, I was talking to the guy who sold it to you.” I told him that the D4 is not for sale. He didn’t seem to care, and took off again. Eight miles down the road he found the Baron and told him that he was interested in the cat. The Baron laughed. I give up. . . With a table full of fruits and vegetables I needed to get busy. I put the cukes in a brine.

This morning I made pickles.

Then I brought dinner out to the fencing crew of two. After eating, Lucky and I walked around. I took some photos. I heard that familiar buzz and called Lucky to me. She had startled the snake. She came right to me. I was glad that I didn’t have the pup with me. I didn’t have a stick, a shovel or a rock handy. But I did have the Optio. This was a small rattler, under a flat rock. It was an extremely angry thing. We left it alone.

As we walked back down, I noticed a white pickup parked just off the road. Not far from where I encountered the rattlesnake two weeks ago. I didn’t see anyone - that’s odd. There was a trio fishing by the bridge, but they had their vehicle near them. My pickup was further down the road. We continued down when I spotted the oblivious couple. Hmmmm. . . interesting place for some afternoon delight.

What’s that in the road?

Oh. . . nice buttons.

I’ve been all over these hills for the last couple of days. I saw a horned toad yesterday and a couple of lizards that were too fast to photograph. But I hadn’t seen any of these. It was annoyed, coiled and hissing. I was in the pickup leaving. All I had with me was the camera and the puppy. But I couldn’t miss the opportunity. The photos aren’t very clear. I wasn’t getting any closer, sorry!

Actually, it was a trip to Powell, Wyoming.
As close to a commute as I’ll get.
You can view these photos (larger) and more on
my Flick’r site.
Here are some of the views -
which will open in a larger window when clicked on: