Karbon Kounty Moos

Here we go again. . .

Mrs. 49 finally got around to having her son. Last year she was first. This year she’s second to last. Well, maybe third or fourth to last. I have a couple of tail enders. Mrs. 49 likes to stay by herself with her calf the first few days. Last year she was out in the field for several days. I know that she had to be going to water, but I never did observe it.

I was surprised to see her in the feedlot the other morning. I locked her in and went out to eartag her calf. I found him resting above the creek. He was not asleep, but watching me. I started to straddle him, and he threw me off, bellowing. I’m not sure who was more startled. I followed him, tagger in hand, laughing.

He turned around, roaring - and started head butting me. There was no way I could hold him, and I was getting my butt kicked. Or at least I was getting my legs butted. He was getting madder and I was laughing harder. He gave up, ran away, and started flinging himself into the fence. I tried to get him away from the barbed wire, but he was too wild. I walked back to the pickup and watched as he headed north, still slamming against the fence. When he reached the open gate he was still bellowing. He didn’t need open gates, he went through the next gate, continuing north. Then he headed west across the new plank bridge. That floored me. I’ve spent plenty of time trying to convince cattle over bridges. Some will never cross, preferring to swim. They at least like to give you a hard time about it. This calf wasn’t twenty hours old and he’s heading to Red Lodge on his own.

I went and let Mrs. 49 out. Her calf was no longer on my place. I thought that if she’d look for him, after much bellowing - there should be a reunion. I drove over to my father-in-law’s, and turned Rocky around. He was still making all kinds of noises. His mother was beyond the fence, across the pasture, on the opposite side of the creek loudly searching for him. I was behind him, making my best baby calf noises and calling for bossy. She completely ignored us, even though she could see and hear us. Her calf was not where she left it, and that’s all she knew.

The calf was on a mission - he had to get away from me. He went east through the fence into the pasture. I ran back to my pickup, watching as he ran the fenceline. I had my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t go out on the lane. I drove into the pasture behind him. He spotted my pickup and scrambled over the ditch. I got out and tried to head him northeast to mom on the opposite side of the creek. He turned around and stared at me, a long string of blood hanging from his mouth. Then he ran straight at me. I ran straight at him yelling. He decided to turn tail. Thank goodness. I would have hated to have to explain all this to the 911 dispatcher.

They may not be the traditional warm and fuzzy Easter babies, but they are a couple of the spring calvies here.

They are supposed to start calving on March 1st. They’re jumping the gun here.

This cow had a calf when I went out at six. She was licking it, and I left them alone. Except for the two dozen other cows in the pen. At seven she was taking care of two calves. I kicked everyone else out of the pen at that point. She is being a good mama, has accepted both calves, and they know what to do. I will keep them separate for a while.

Another cow calved, the clutch went out on my orange pickup, and one of my father-in-law’s heifers at the feedlot had a calf, too. I penned them separately, and they’re doing well. Sometimes, some things work.

Actually, they were watching me. This photo was taken last month while I was breaking a trail for them to cross the creek. The drifts were huge and rock hard.

It was fifty degrees Fahrenheit here today. There’s still ice and snow, plus some mud now.

The girls should start calving the first week in March. I’m playing catch up. My taxes are also due on the first. I’ve yet to figure out my aversion to getting that done. I can’t blame it all on my computer woes. There are a few other disasters brewing, but I’ve grown accustomed to that.

Pronunciation:
\ri-mis\
Function:
adjective
Etymology:
Middle English, from Anglo-French remis, Latin remissus, from past participle of remittere to send back, relax
Date:
15th century

1 : negligent in the performance of work or duty : careless

2 : showing neglect or inattention : lax
synonyms see negligent

— re-miss-ly adverb
— re-miss-ness noun

I don’t think it’s neglect, inattention - perhaps. I have been busy, so this little blog of mine doesn’t shine. Honestly, everything internet and computer related has suffered. My iMac died after six months. It wasn’t sick, didn’t have an accident, it simply crashed. Can anyone explain that? Why does Apple only have a 90 day warranty? Inquiring minds want to know. I was not overworking it. I am using my old Dell now. I use the internet when my modem works. Which is about half the time lately. Forget about printing. Oh Brother, it works as a copier, but I was using it with the mac and can’t find the installation cd. What made me cry about this? Six months of photos gone with the wind. I know, I didn’t put them anywhere except iPhoto. Yes, some of them made it to flickr, but you know how many photos I take. Too many.

January was hectic. Sugar and I traveled to Casper. I used cruise control, so we met no law enforcement officers. The toaster behaved very well. I would have liked to have visited Casper, but my time was limited. I saw my room, a takeout window, a gas station and the hotel that the meeting was at. It was business, no pleasure whatsoever. I probably wasted my time and breath.

My home is known as ” the place where vacuums come to die.” This has something to do with three dogs, one cat, a lot of dirt, and a woman who does not enjoy cleaning. I used to call it bad vacuum karma - but it goes beyond vacuums. My two year old washing machine was out of commission for a couple of weeks. I even went to the laundromat. Finally, the plumber had some time. Right after that, the thirteen year old dryer quit. I don’t find clothes frozen solid on the line amusing. Then I decided to give a water softener a try. The water is incredibly hard here, which creates unique problems. When the tech came out to put the softener in, he found that needed some plumbing installed before he could. Another job for the elusive plumber. That was done and the water softener was installed. The next morning my basement was under water. That’s the fourth time since June. At least this was soft clean water, not mud or the usual irrigation ditch water. Another tech came out and helped cleaned up the basement.

The following morning I went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I had heard the airplane. Coffee makers are traditionally short-lived here. They die messy deaths. I took one look at the counter, and made myself a cup of tea. It was too early for bourbon.

I replaced the solar fencer last winter. It was ancient. No matter how new the battery was, it had seen enough sun. It was at the company for weeks before they determined it was time to let it go. I paid dearly for the young one, and it worked well. Until I hooked it up this year. Dead as the proverbial doornail, they just don’t make them like they used to. I put the electric fencer out with an extension cord. I knew that it was working, once I got it grounded properly. The brand new fence tester I bought wasn’t working, so I used the time-tested-testing method. Snap! Then the power went out. When did this happen? The day after the Cuisinart cratered. I lit some candles, found a flashlight, opened a bottle of beer and feasted on crackers and canned cheese. Didn’t want to keep opening the refrigerator.

Even though this has become “the post that Word Press and my browser kept chewing up” and it took me two days to complete -

Life is good.

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.

From my pasture to yours,

Moos

I’ve been tagged by the Yolo Cowboy. Since it is almost Christmas, I’d better get moving on this. The month of December has been a technical/mechanical disaster. Every piece of equipment has had issues. The 4455 was worked on, but then had a brake pawl failure. I had a major disconcerting moment while standing on the step with the diesel hose. The parked tractor was rolling forward. I considered tossing the nozzle and jumping, but I rode it out. Then my iMac died. Did you know that Apple has a 90 day guarantee? Neither did I and I bought it in June. The Dell laptop was fine, but then my modem went wacko. I had the feeder truck worked on. It’s like a new old truck now. I came close to driving a front tire off the rim on the 4455. Two new front tires on that baby now. My cows were tested by the state again. Everyone is AOK. I’ve been wrestling with the self waterers. Buckets of hot water and hammers in the morning. The washing machine acts up when it’s cold. It has been frigid. The dryer sounds like it has a bearing out - or maybe it is planning on blowing up. No laundry is getting done here. I probably wouldn’t have the time anyhow.

Oh, before I forget, here goes:

1. Wrapping or gift bags?

Either works.

2. Real or artificial tree?

Real, please. I didn’t have one last year. The year before Jenny brought a neat little artificial tree to the hospital for us. This year it was time again.
3. When do you put up the tree?

Right after cutting it down. No specific day.

4. When do you take the tree down?

Before Valentine’s Day.

5. Do you like eggnog?

I prefer the stuff you put in it. But I do love nutmeg.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

Can’t remember.
7. Do you have a nativity scene?

No.
8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?

A cheese grater and a hand can opener. But they were nicely wrapped.

9. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards?

Sorry folks, neither this year - or the last couple of years.

10. Favorite Christmas movie?

Probably A Christmas Story.

11. When do you start shopping for Christmas?

Ha!

12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Food. Okay, shrimp scampi - my tradition.

13. Clear lights or colored on the tree?

Clear, but I’d love to find some of those old fashioned bubble lights.

14. Favorite Christmas song?

Coming on Christmas - by Joni Mitchell

Rules are…:

1. Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share Christmas facts about yourself.
3. Tag random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Well, I know that it’s late, but I’ll tag:

Aimee
Richmond

This was taken yesterday. Twelve above, still and snowing. Now it’s clear, windy (of course), and trying to get above freezing. One can hope.

I haven’t been keeping up with this place, or my flickr photos. I had a cold that was starting to feel like the plague. But I can’t take a break from the day to day operations of feeding my crew. I carry on. Runny nose, aching back, vertigo, shot shoulders, bum knee and whatever else happens to be going on is ignored for the time being. Once I’m finished outside, I can come in and crash for a while.

Betty Western has tagged me for a meme. And it is a Me Me. I haven’t done one in ages, so I think that it’s time. Please do visit Betty’s place.

Here are the rules. 1. Link to your tagger and post these rules. 2. Share 7 facts about yourself: some random, some weird. 3. Tag 3 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them). 4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

Seven facts about moos, I’m not sure if they’re random or weird or both:

1. I usually have a green thumb outside, but I can’t keep houseplants alive. Maybe it has something to do with the dust bison I raise.

2. I do not consider myself an authority at anything. I know a little bit about a lot of things. I know a lot about a few things. I always want to learn more.

3. I am second generation American. My parents were born in New York, as was I. My paternal grandfather was born in Kalavryta, which makes it extra fortunate that he came to the United States. My paternal grandmother was also an immigrant from Greece. My maternal grandfather was from Galway, Ireland. My maternal grandmother was born in Liverpool, England to Irish parents. Both of my grandfathers died when I was a child, but I do remember them. Both of my grandmothers died long before I was born.

4. I ended up in Williston, North Dakota before I made it to Montana. I like North Dakota. Honestly, I like all of the places that I’ve been. There are four states in the lower 48 that I have never been to. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Kentucky. I hope to see them.

5. My favorite color changes all the time. For the last year or so it has been brown.

6. “Karen, why’d you do that?” My Queens accent comes out when I’m tired or angry. It’s not Fran Drescher, but my vocabulary shamefully will deteriorate to Goodfellas.

7. I love to cook - and eat.

I’m going to tag three bloggers. All are Montana ladies that I have met in real life. I hope that they can find the time for the meme.

Come on, Pandora.

Your turn, Laurie.

Martha - how about a little meme about you you?