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.

Read the back of the card.

I’ve been neglecting the blog. No, I’m not on vacation. Busier than ever - the usual story. I was very fortunate to take in several day trips while Linda was here. It was unbearably hot the entire time - so there were a few places we didn’t attempt. We tried to visit cool spots.

Which were few and far between. August is here and the weather has somehow cooled down a little. The yearling heifers are enjoying the irrigated pasture.

That’s clover blooming, not dandelions going to seed.

They’re fascinated with the horses.

I’ve just realized that the last time they saw horses was trailing home in October.

Things here have been okay. Busy, but not quite as manic. I discovered a mouse residing in the desk last week. She found it so inviting she had her babies there. I was not spending much time in the house or doing paperwork, obviously. The mouse mama was. Just in case I didn’t have enough to do - I demolished her home and evicted her and the family. That was only the beginning. I dread hanta virus. It’s surprising that I don’t have more mice problems on this place. That was the first one I’d seen in the house in ages. Rocky (the cat) lives on the porch these days, but he and the dogs keep the rodent population in check.

We had a strange downpour on Friday. I was pleased to find that the storm did not destroy the creek crossing. That was a first. Instead of fixing the fence, I spent the weekend tossing things out of the flooded basement.

The pairs are in the hills.

The heifers are at home in the pasture.

All the cattle seem content.

I called the dentist’s office first thing Monday morning. They gave me an appointment for that afternoon. Wow! As I was getting ready to go out the door, my doctor’s office called. They had a cancellation - if I could make it on Tuesday, they’d fit me in. Wow again! That moved my appointment up two months. Both visits went well. And lunch out is always a treat - as is good company.

My lawnmower seems to have decided that it’s no longer a self propelled model, so now I’m pushing. I have half the meadow ( I mean lawn) done. I may develop upper body strength after all. Or maybe buy a new mower. Well, so much for mowing - it’s raining again. Oh no, make that

hail . . . how’s that for instant gratification. Digital cameras are great. Yes, I know, I should turn the computer off during a storm.

This undivided back postcard was mailed to:
Mrs. E.P. Taddiken
6 Clifton Terrace
Weehawken, N.J.
(Clifton Park)

Postmarked Colorado Springs, Colo.
18 Mar 1907
6:30 PM

Photo by Chas. E. Morris, Chinook , Mont.
Made in Germany

It reads:
Your card rec’d today. May ‘phoned she rec’d a let. from you, but she did not give its contents. Expect to leave for Wyom. in 4 wks. & will see sights like this I hope. Hope all is well with you. May & I are well & happy.
Gussie

It’s impossible to blog from here:

I hope to return to our regularly scheduled blogging soon.

Miss you,
Karen

is the title of the Dude Larsen painting this postcard is taken from. I’ve noticed that the images are clearer when you click it - to open in another window. This card isn’t in the best of shape, but I like it.

“The Big Guy” finished his antibiotics yesterday. I don’t know who was happier - the horse or us. He was starting to like the molasses, I think…
So the horse doctoring is a one woman show now. The vet stopped in on Friday and was pleased with the way he looks. Anyone not familiar with horseflesh would be trying to control the gag reflex. He must be feeling good, because he made me work at catching him this morning. That’s a good sign. This will continue to be a twice a day treatment for some time. But that’s okay, we’ll get to visit that way.

Have a couple of minutes to blog. I should be sleeping, but - oh well…

I did go to Billings & get the pump motor the other day (and a few other parts). I had the misfortune of being behind a row of traffic from Edgar to Laurel. The leaders of this pack were a pickup with travel trailer & a pickup with a Bobcat on a trailer. There were several vehicles between me & them, so I resigned myself to going 45. At least the construction at Rockvale has been completed… By the time I got to the interstate I was maniacal. I was in the left lane heading east at my usual lead footed pace when a car cut me off without signaling. Good enough cutoff to make me hit the brake. I put my lights on. Hmm - maybe she didn’t see me. Then she proceeded to travel at 50 mph. The right lane was as close to bumper to bumper as it gets in Montana, but I really didn’t want to start some of my BQE maneuvers. So I continued behind her. She had several opportunities to get in the right lane, but chose not to. At this point I tooted the horn at her. So she slowed down some more. When she decided to get into the right lane she “threw me the rod”. So I tooted the horn again, smiled & waved at her.

Since I was close to homicidal, I just went to pickup my motor, figure out how to get around the construction and get into Fasteners, stop at Costco and head home.

Yesterday was so busy I can hardly remember what the heck I did. Which is how it goes here more often than not. I did some amateur dog grooming - as long as the dogs could stand it. Got lots of laundry done. I did get lost in the weeds of my garden for a while. The weeds are still winning the war. The sweet corn is late this year, we just started getting some. I knew that as soon as the racoons hit it - it would be ready. The guys finished the grain, Hooray! Just in time too. We don’t raise malt (beer) barley, but feed barley. So instead of loading trucks and sending them on their way - we load the trucks and then unload them into grain bins… Well, the barley looks good - and we have lots of it. Which would be even better if we had someone who wanted to buy some of it! But the reason it was good timing was because it started to rain here as soon as we finished the last load into the last bin. And it rained pretty good for a while.

Today was spent in the hills moving cattle. The morning started out cool, then it got hot, then it got cool again, and later it poured. I had packed a lunch. It’s funny how food seems so much better when you’ve worked hard and eat outside. We had ham and tomato sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, chunks of cheddar, and grapes. Simple & good, sitting on the back of the pickup… My father-in-law and I took turns with driving the pickup/trailer and riding my horse. Most of where we go cannot be reached with a vehicle. We three spent some time on foot, too. We spotted some strays on the way back home. So we dropped the trailer near the road, and headed up as far as we could with the pickup. We started walking up to get to the draw that we had seen the cattle in. It started sprinkling. My father-in-law was going to drive back down. He said, “By the time you get to the top it’ll really start raining.” Gee, thanks… that’s exactly what it did. My sea level lungs were straining. My boots had ten pounds of alkali mud on them. My clothes were soaked. My hair was too, and streaming across my face. And I was enjoying every minute of it. After a while we got to the top. Found the girls and their calves and got them started down. Much easier on the lungs, not so good on the knees…

When we did get home, we unloaded the horses. They got a good brushing and a little extra oats. We fed the cattle at home. It was still pouring. It was close to seven by the time I’d put things away. Thank goodness for leftovers, since I was starving. Put on a fresh pot of rigatoni, heated up the sauce and meatballs. Then I get to clean it all up again.

Well, it looks like we’ll be riding again tomorrow - so I probably should say “Goodnight”.

Snowy Horses