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’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?

Sugar insists on coming with me. She isn’t much help, but she is good company.

This was taken two months ago. I’m sure that the autumn colors are long gone.

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.

I just didn’t want them monopolizing the place.

Congress will soon be deciding how much funding the federal government will provide for cancer research. While the leaders of the House and Senate have agreed to provide a $7 billion increase for health and other programs, including NIH and NCI, their proposals fall far short of that goal. In fact, the funding levels that they are currently considering would result in a cut for cancer research. There is still far too much that needs to be done within the field of pancreatic cancer research to accept a cut in funding. We need early detection tools, treatments, and a cure. Make sure your Senators and Representative know that you think pancreatic cancer research is a funding priority and should be one of their priorities too.

You can do that by clicking here. It’s painless, and only takes a minute.

A year ago we were trying to get into the sugar beet fields. Like now, it was too wet. This year there are beets in the valley, but none in our fields. I never liked sugar beets, they took too much time, energy and expense.

I wish that we could be out in this beet field again.

Allan’s Page

even when you’re not having fun. . .

I started blogging two years ago. Because of this place - “Karbon Kounty” -
I have had the pleasure of getting to know some wonderful people. Many in real life.

Thanks to all of you who have helped make this an interesting ride.

Six years ago, I was sitting in the doctor’s office. He kept repeating a phrase. After the fourth or fifth time he said “middle aged woman”, I interrupted him. “Whoa, hold on right there. I’m planning on living ’til at least a hundred, so I’m not middle aged yet”. I am getting closer, though. This was the same doctor who told me that I needed to get more exercise. “Wait a minute,” I said, “I’d like to see you follow me around for a couple of hours and not get tired from watching me”. “I know,” he said, “but your body gets accustomed to the amount of exercise you get, so you need to do more”. Sure. If anyone had told me twenty years ago, that I would be learning how to irrigate at my advanced age - I’d have told them that they were joking. Seems the joke’s on me.

Monday night while feeding, I noticed that the bale wasn’t spinning. I looked behind me to see if the chain had broken. No, it was intact. Uh - oh, hydraulics! After taking a shower in hydraulic oil, I got the hose connected. I washed the oil off my arms in the ditch. I dried off with my shirt, which is now a rag. I still felt like I had applied tanning oil, but without that pleasant coconut smell. I came home and scrubbed with some Dawn. That was an improvement. I decided to harrow the pasture.

As soon as I started, the chain link on the harrow broke. I called it a night and went home.

The cattle have been keeping me busy too. We branded a week ago. I told my father-in-law that I didn’t want to move any cows to the dryland until I had checked the fences. On Tuesday morning, he took off back there while I was preparing our lunch. Except he didn’t tell me. I wasted time looking for him here. I finally gave up and went out to the hills with the Mule. Sure enough, my father-in-law was already there.

The fence had some bad spots, but fortunately nothing major. We were going to have to come back and work on the water gap, though.

After stopping for lunch, we headed for home. The four wheeler is slower than the pickup, so I stay behind to eat more dust. As I came off Cottonwood Road, I realized that I was coasting. Hmmmmm. . . I watched the pickup ahead of me turn and keep on going. I was stranded six miles out. The Mule would start. I could shift into forward and reverse - but it wasn’t going either way. It was making a hellish noise when I’d put it in gear. I turned it off, put it in neutral and started pushing.

By some miracle I had cell phone service. I called Beartooth Kawasaki and explained my situation. Jim said, “Quit pushing and stay right there - we’ll be out in twenty minutes.” How’s that for service? That was better than AAA. The friendly tech came out with a trailer, dropped me off at home with my fencing supplies and brought the tired Mule back to Red Lodge. My father-in-law never wondered where I was.

On Wednesday, we brought a telephone pole out to the water gap with a pipe trailer. We got the pole across the canal and fixed the wires above it. Now the place was ready.

Yesterday, we sorted the cattle and hauled them back there. Last night, I went out with the dogs to check them and bring them some salt. I let the dogs out for a while for some exercise. They need it too. Not near the cattle though. The cows get enough exercise.

If you look carefully - you’ll see a leg - and two feet.
He hasn’t been run over by the top saver.
He’s cleaning it. So you know what that means.