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.

Yes, it’s been a while, so I thought that it might be time. Today’s offering was taken in a sugarbeet field on Tuesday by my husband. Bonnie thought that a red neck would make a good photo. My ears look red, but not my neck. It’s actually a better shot of the hair, though.

Doesn’t Look Red to Me. . .

Learn about Half-Nekkid Thursday - and see all the entries. Most are usually more half-nekkid than me!

Tuesday, after dinner, I looked at my husband and asked, “Do you need me for anything in particular this afternoon?”. He said that he didn’t, so I decided to make my Billings provision run. I called for a last-minute hair appointment - I was able to get in at 3:30. That was my first stop. As glamorous as I get, I visited some friends who farm on the west end - long enough for some iced tea and a bit of conversation. By the time I left it was windy, rumbling and threatening a storm. I ran into Randy in a parking lot - no not literally - I was on foot at the time. I got to see his new girl - very pretty!

I had a framed photo that I wanted a new frame for and a family portrait in a gilt oval frame that I wanted restored. I had planned to stop at the Frame Hut. By the time I pulled into their lot it was after six and they were closed. Oh well, another day, I thought. From there I drove to Rimrock Mall. I can’t remember the last time I was there. It had to be a few years. My friend, Alice Ann swears by these Crocs. I decided to try a pair, and I knew that they sold them at Village Shoes. I walked into the mall right by the food court. I had no idea where the shoe store was, but I didn’t think that I could get too lost. Next thing I knew I was standing at a store called Deck the Walls. I walked in and explained what I had, and what I needed. Then I went back to the car to get my photos. Tami was very helpful. She gave me some ideas - and together we picked out new framing for my old Snook Art photo of a Hereford herd. While she worked on that I found the shoe store and tried on a pair of Crocs. Funny looking? You bet! But comfortable - mine are blue. My photo was finished - great job, too. I left the portrait for their restorer to examine.

I’ve since found out that the family portait is a convex photograph
which I knew nothing about before visiting that web site. I left the mall content and a few dollars lighter. On to grocery shopping and home by 10:30.

Yesterday was spent in the garden and the house. We’re finally getting some growing weather. The crops and garden are coming along, and the weeds are doing well. I only have two rows to hoe - but they’re long ones.

Afternoon snack time had Ty and I looking all over the place for my husband. For crying out loud - the ice pops were melting. I drove up and down the lane and couldn’t find him. Then I noticed an extension cord - it’s bright yellow - so we followed it.

No wonder we didn’t see the Sugar Beet Baron.
He was hiding between equipment with the power washer.

I didn’t know that dogs like banana ice.
But you learn something new every day.
You can learn about Half-Nekkid Thursday here
and here.
Which brings me to my entry for Half-Nekkid Thursday:

The pickup was parked. I don’t drink and drive. If you click on the photo and look closely, you can see my new blister.

In honor of HNT
I present a story (what else?!)

I have always been a sun worshipper.
I know, I know. . .
Fortunately, I inherited my Dad’s Greek genes. . .

From my teens on, I would sunbathe in the backyard as soon as possible - usually the first warm days in March. I’ve always loved the beach. I find the combination of sand, sun and surf impossible to resist.

Years later- when I’d get off the 12-8 shift in New York -
I’d drive to Brighton Beach to:
nap in the sun; swim; relax; eat pirozhki; and visit with the Russians.

When I returned to Montana, my sunbathing window of opportunity wasn’t open as wide. I found some deserted places outside of Red Lodge to catch some rays. I would take full advantage of them when I could. It didn’t take long for me to become known as that “nude sunbather”. Red Lodge is a town that thrives on rumor and innuendo. My attitude was to keep ‘em guessing.

My friend, N asked to join me one day. It was springtime, sunny and very warm in town. We stopped at the IGA and picked up some fresh baked French bread, cheeses, and fruit. We packed a cooler and I directed her to one of my favorite spots. When we arrived it was overcast with patches of snow on the ground.

No matter, we spread blankets and uncorked the wine. I had brought some long stemmed wine glasses - no paper cups for extreme sunbathers. This turned out to be a good thing. The wind was whipping from the west and the south. Through chattering teeth we snacked, sipped, giggled and gossiped.

N was telling me a story, wineglass aloft, making a very serious point. The lid from the cooler blew off and smacked her in the head, immediately ending any semblance of seriousness. We were glad for the extra blankets when it began snowing. Too bad we didn’t think of wool caps, snow boots, thermal underwear and scarves. We ate most of the food and polished off the wine. We went back to town and bought another bottle or four. Leaving the car in the drive, we went out to N’s deck. Finally, I was able to shed my motorcycle jacket, but nothing else. A friend dropped by N’s. He was taking an old Willys jeep out for a test drive - did we want to go? I think that we left the wine and glasses on the deck. Next thing I remember is riding down Main Street in this half nekkid (topless) Willys.

N & I were waving at everyone as though we were in a parade. Passersby waved back, amused. The Willys driver got such a kick out of it - that he drove back and forth several times.

A few days later, N & I made another attempt at sunbathing. We ended up on the road east of Bearcreek, trying to rope a calf. I think that there may have been wine involved in that episode, too. But that’s another story.

Okay, this isn’t a good “half nekkid Thursday” photo - but the four of us are showing some skin.