Collared Lizard Has A Friend!

A girlfriend, that is.

Number One came home this morning with
a little gift for H-Bomb & Sawed Off:
a female collared lizard.

Maybe now we'll have to name them both.

I think he likes her...

Survival of the, er, Biggest...& a Pretty Bird

not our lizard, this picture is from the DWR

The other day, Number One brought home a small lizard. As you may recall, we have a larger Collared Lizard that we've had for quite some time. The collared lizard is a fun little pet, who now lets ME feed him by hand. No more dangling and jumping dead crickets on fishing line, I just grab a cricket, stick my hand in there, and the lizard eats it. I think he loves me. Honestly, he knows when I am in the room, and lets me know when he's hungry. He occasionally lets me pet him. He doesn't do this for anyone else. He loves me. Although, I'm pretty sure he might like to taste one of my fingers.

So anyway. Number One put the smaller lizard in with our collared lizard. I hoped the collared lizard wouldn't eat the little guy. Of course, collared lizard was hungry so he went after the little lizard, but didn't catch him. I distracted the collared lizard with three or four crickets in a row, and I thought it might be the end of the Natural Selection happening in our dining room.

The next day, I didn't see the little lizard. The Collared Lizard looked suspiciously fat. And seemed guiltily sluggish. I offered him a cricket, and he didn't even blink. I'm quite certain the little lizard was his dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Today, Wifey saw a strange, beautiful bird in one of the trees outside. We looked at it with binoculars, a skill at which I am out of practice, and my glasses didn't help matters. We didn't know what kind of bird it was, but it had a variety of strange calls, including one that sounded like a small child saying "Owww!"

picture from Bird Watcher's Digest.com

Our bird field guide has been misplaced during our temporary stay at the bunkhouse, but I finally found the bird online. A Yellow-Headed Blackbird. If you go to the Bird Watcher's Digest website, you can hear some of the blackbird's calls too.

I need to get a pair of binoculars. And find our bird books!

Ranch Chores

The alternate title for this post: We Do Things Differently Around Here.

As we continue on our winter's adventure on the ranch, I thought I would share a few things that make our daily life somewhat...different.

Nearly every morning, we wake up to no water in our house. Not a drop. We make a pot of coffee using water from a gallon jug we stash every night. Then Number One goes out to the well and turns on the heater to thaw the frozen water pipes and/or jostle the water pressure switch. Anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour after that, we can resume our usual watery activities like flushing the toilet and doing dishes.

Every day, sometimes more than once, I am tasked with feeding the lizard. The lizard has a fancy wooden cage/home that RanchHand and Number One made, complete with a big rock and sunlamp, a large branch for climbing, and his own water dish. This, however, is a wild lizard, and a very particular one. He only eats live food, and his food of choice is grasshoppers. There is a shortage of live grasshoppers in these snowy and frozen parts, and the occasional live cricket we find isn't enough to sustain the lizard. We have a remote-controlled feeding dish that would theoretically make the freeze-dried insects "jump" but it doesn't fit in the lizard's home. So I had to come up with a way to feed the poor creature.

Every day, I loop a strand of nylon thread around the head of a freeze-dried cricket. (the dried grasshoppers needed to be refrigerated--who knew?--and I had to throw them away). I dangle the cricket into the cage, and make it jump, crawl and hop around to attract the lizard's attention. Sometimes I just dangle it in the cage and he comes and grabs it. (Today he ate three in a row this way). Sometimes he's just not interested, and I suspend it so it hangs through the wire screen of the cage, and later I come back to find he's eaten it while I wasn't looking. Thank goodness. Sometimes I worry about that poor guy's eating habits.

Our oven no longer just "turns on." We can't just turn the knob, set the temperature, and start baking. There is something wrong with it (thank god it happened after our Thanksgiving feast!). Now, every time I want to bake something, I turn on the knob, and nothing happens. Number One has to come in with some sort of flame and light the oven burner thingie. I don't know exactly, but sometimes there is banging and cursing involved that seems to help with the process. And then the oven heats up and I can commence with my muffins or what-have-you.

We have been looking at these ovens...but are a bit frightened that prices aren't listed on the website! Perhaps someday I'll have you all help me choose a color...we'll start saving our pennies.

Taking care of Woody and Jessie used to be on our list of daily chores. Sadly, they are no longer on our list. It pains me to throw away banana peels (their favorite), crackers and miscellaneous vegetable scraps. It feels wasteful. As does the brand-new stake they received for Christmas.

It feels like there are more weird daily chores around here. When they come to mind, I'll add them. Until then, I've got to go find Number One so I can make some more muffins.

R.I.P. Woody

We'll miss you, stinky, affectionate, sweet little hikin' goat.

Christmas Eve Hike

Here is the last picture I have of Jessie. She and Woody accompanied us on our Christmas Eve hike with the boys, along with Mia and Donut. They would have happily joined us in the house for hot chocolate afterwards, but that would have been going a bit far. We took just a short hike on Christmas Eve, because it was cold and the boys wanted to be pulled in the sled. Woody got bored when we stopped and I was trying to keep him away from the boys and their snowball fight (sometimes he likes to butt them with his head), so he decided to pick a fight with me. Not too fun. I called Adam to help me, and we just started hiking again and he was fine.

Jessie was and Woody is a good hiker, and they both love(d) to get out into the desert with us. They were very loyal and dedicated, and would come when I called them. Woody still does, of course.

We do miss little Jess.

R.I.P. Coffee

27 December 2008

A good mom and a sweet, hard-working girl,
but too blood-thirsty and obsessive for the rest of the livestock.
Sorry you made that choice, Coffee.

Sometimes the Natural Order of Things Sucks.

Man what a season. You remember that Coffee had puppies? Or perhaps I haven't even gotten around to telling you...anyway, Coffee had some puppies right before Halloween. We ended up with five or six of them, and had given all but one away. Last Sunday was the last time we saw the fat little guy. We looked for him for days, but couldn't find him. Here are our best guesses:

- He tried to follow Donut (the 10-mile+ adventure dog) and got lost.
- The bald eagle Number One's been seeing around finally caught him alone and out in the open.
- He just wandered off and got lost.

My bet is on number two, but we will never know. The cute little pup is just gone. It's difficult and sad, but these sorts of things happen on ranches sometimes.

Now that Coffee doesn't have any puppies left, she apparently was wont for something to do. And the something she chose to occupy her time was horrible. You may recall that some time ago Coffee turned into a sheep-killer. And convinced some of the other dogs to join her, until we were forced to give the remaining sheep away (or bury them one by one).

Today, Coffee became a goat-killer. The goats, we thought, were safe in the orchard. Somehow, either Coffee got in or poor Jessie got out, or both. Woody came to the front door this morning, freaking out, trying to get our attention. Knocking on the door with his horns and hooves. Jumping up like a dog to peer in the window. Climbing on the grill.

Number One went out to put Woody back in the orchard, where he realized Jessie was missing. He took Woody around the ranch, looking for Jessie. Finally, after an exhaustive search, he found her, dead.

Jessie, top, with Woody

We are very sad and will miss this sweet little goat. Woody is distraught and lonely. He keeps trying to come in the house.

Number One isn't sure what to do about Coffee, who is currently locked in a kennel indefinitely. And I'm not sure what to do about Woody...there is a possibility we could find him a couple goat friends (I saw a sign at the grocery store a while back) or we may give him to the same lady who took our sheep. I'll let you know. You can be sure that no other goat will be as sweet as our little Jessie.

Shipping Day

Number One and the rest have been gathering cattle for weeks, bringing them all down from the mountain, getting ready for shipping day. This year, my mom and dad were here for shipping day, for the first time ever. My mom took H-Bomb and Sawed Off to school, while my dad and I stayed to help with shipping.

This year, since my mom was helping with the boys, I got to go watch the early morning roundup. I'm sure Number One would have let me ride and help round up the cattle, but honestly it was before dawn and I was exhausted. So I just ran around taking pictures.


They loaded up the truck with hay in an effort to lure the cows into the corrals. Sometimes it works. My dad drove the hay truck through the fields, and there were four or five cowboys pushing the cows toward the hay truck. My dad drove the truck right into the corrals, cows bellowing and following behind him. With this many cattle, it takes more than one pass with the hay truck, and some fast riding to round up the stragglers who by now are trying to escape.


Essentially, one shipping day is the same as the last. You have the buyer, the broker, the ranch hands, moving and sorting all the cattle. You have the semi truck drivers. You have the folks working the scale and keeping records of weights and numbers. You have the dust and the dirt and the fussy cattle.

The cattle are sorted into separate corrals, heifers (girls) and steers (boys) and then the buyer and the broker go through them all and decide which ones they want. My job, again this year, was to keep the cattle from busting back through the gates, and to help my dad fill the alley and the waiting corrals with cattle. It moves pretty quickly when the cows cooperate. The cattle the buyer wants are sent to the scales to be weighed, then to a corral to await loading into the trucks.


The cattle the buyer doesn't want are sent to a separate corral and ultimately released back into the fields.

After the trucks are loaded, three semi truck loads today, the cows that are left need to be let out into the fields and then they all need to be fed.

And at the end of the day, whenever that may be, you have lunch. Whether it be 2:00pm or 8:00pm, it is still called Shipping Day Lunch. This year, I prepared a huge pot of my Rustic Chili, a humongous salad, and the now-traditional Chocolate Sheet Cake. Because I volunteered to be in charge of lunch, I got to leave the corrals about an hour early so I missed the loading of the trucks and the feeding. I had made the chili and the cake the day and night before, and tossed the salad while the chili was reheating. Everyone loved it, it was the perfect end to a hard day's work.

I was chased by a bull or two, and/or some cows in the past week, but I will post those stories another day because I honestly can't remember if any of it happened on shipping day or not...

The State of the Ranch: Good and Bad

If I sat down and listed every single thing that is currently wrong with our house, I believe I would lose my mind, so I’ll just list a few. To give you an idea. I haven’t blogged in a while, so please bear with me. Or skim through, whatever. There a couple good things in here too. (Trust me, there really are!)

We are still, apparently, waiting on a bid from the contractor to complete our addition. We were prepared to wait, but MONTHS AGO when ABEG said to “Go Ahead” we got excited. For nothing. So now we are somewhat frustrated about the lack of progress.

The new front door the contractor installed during Phase I, but did not finish on the inside, you remember, the one that fell off the hinges a couple days later? Or maybe I was so mad about that one I didn’t even tell you. Anyway, now it doesn’t close unless you lift up on the handle. Hard. And if you want to lock the deadbolt? Forgetaboutit. You have to not only lift up the door but align the deadbolt with the hole, and then the doorknob thingie doesn’t line up. Whee. Also, even if the door is closed, you can kick it open. I tried it the other day when Sawed Off accidentally locked me out. It’s good for relieving aggression, but not so good when you’re thinking about being home by yourself. Deadbolt it is. I’ll have to add it to Number One’s list.

Our siding is not yet completed. We were waiting for the satellite internet dude to make it over here, and he finally did over the weekend. Now we can have someone finish installing the siding and seal it all before the snow flies! I am so glad I pushed to have the old chinking removed and the logs resealed before the siding went on—there was a significant, noticeable reduction in the number of elm beetles in our house!

Also, we currently have only half of our electricity. Meaning, half of the breakers in our breaker box don’t work. Luckily it is the inconsequential half, if you don’t count the bathroom light fixture. The theory is that there is a break in the line, somewhere underground, and we have yet to find it. Some of the wires from the generator may be shorted out underground, which would theoretically explain why we only have partial power. It’s just a theory.

Right now we have no power/lights in our bathroom, no power in the hall outlets (but thankfully at least one light in the hallway), no power/lights in H-Bomb’s room, no power/lights in the playroom, only half power (no lights) in the living room (thank goodness it didn’t affect the television!) I haven’t checked all the outlets, or the lights in the garage, but thankfully none of our appliances (2 fridges + 1 freezer) were affected.

Many of the other buildings are affected as well, the bunkhouse has untold fixtures/outlets that aren’t working; RanchHand and Wifey were running extension cords to their fridge and microwave; there is power out in the barn and some outbuildings. CG’s house seems to be unaffected, but she is on a different underground line from the rest of us.

CG’s brothers were here, trying to fix the electrical line, but they didn’t have the right equipment or couldn’t find the problem or possibly both. Who knows how long this will go on before CG breaks down and hires an electrician?

Her brothers did temporarily fix RanchHand and Wifey’s electricity by rewiring their breakers. When I found out about this, quite by accident, I was upset that the same service was not offered to us. We are running an extension cord from the kitchen (nearest working outlet) to the bathroom for a small lamp on the counter, near the sink—not exactly a kid-friendly setup! I spoke my mind this past weekend, and when I overheard one of the brothers discussing the situation with CG, “it could be another two weeks…” and she said “Oh, that’s FINE” without a second thought, I could not contain myself. I explained our bathroom situation, and asked that our breakers be rewired also. Brother was supposed to come down in the morning to address it.

The next morning, Brother did come down. And when he suggested re-wiring the entire breaker box, so we’d have all our power back, I asked what the risks might be. He said the box could get “hot” or the breakers could trip. I spoke with Number One, and we decided to just live with it. Brother said rewiring wouldn’t be too difficult, and we’d put the wires back in place it when the whole line is fixed, but with us not being here, we just said forget it.

I think I was just upset on principal, anyway. It’s not like we aren’t managing, and by now we’re so used to having things going wrong in our house On A Daily Basis that, a lamp in the bathroom? An extension cord running down the hall? Not a big deal. But the fact that someone else got their power “fixed” and we weren’t even offered or considered for the same deal? That’s enough to make this cowgirl fume.

It doesn't help much that Number One is constantly on the mountain these days, and we miss him. The other day when Sawed Off said, “Wan go moun wit you, Dada” (translation: Want to go to the mountain with you, Dada). Number One was getting choked up. He misses us too. Soon the fall gather will be complete and he will be here with us, and maybe even be able to come to town with us too.

H-Bomb has been playing and loving soccer, he has even kicked the ball a few times in the games. That’s all he needs to get excited! “Mommy! I kicked the ball THREE TIMES tonight!” Number One has only missed one game (he’s been doing a lot of driving to come down for the games: a two- or three-hour drive from the mountain plus almost an hour to town, and back).

H-Bomb is so proud whenever anyone comes to see his games. A couple weeks ago, he had even more spectators: his Grandpa and our famous cartoonist friend from France, Jean-Claude Mezieres. Grandpa drove Jean-Claude down from the airport, and Grandpa stayed the night at the town house. Jean-Claude is staying at the ranch, in our camper, for a month, I will post more about him next. We love Jean-Claude. We are going to visit him in Paris and at his country house. Very soon.

I have been canning pear and apple jams and butters (in my spare time!) and am getting ready to move on to salsa. It is almost time to harvest all the tomatoes—green and all—before the frost comes. I need to get busy. I made just one pear pie (…sniff…) before the pears got too ripe…I wanted to try freezing the pies, but I just didn’t have time.

I also have a list a mile long of things to do in and around the house, which may or may not get done. The leaves have mostly turned on the mountain, making our drive home spectacular. Except for when a deer ran out and struck our van in the side the other day. I’m not even kidding. We need to get the van fixed now too!

Some days H-Bomb says he wants to be a skeleton for Halloween, which would make my job a heck of a lot easier, because that’s what he was last year. I think we’ll turn it into a Pirate Skeleton, just accessorize the skeleton costume to make it more exciting. I think he’ll go for it. Because I sure don’t want to have to throw together a Tyrannosaurus Rex costume (his first request) at the last minute!

Oh, and Woody, the male goat, STINKS. He literally exudes some kind of male goat stench. It makes a person gag. Jessie does not seem to stink at all. It’s hard to tell for sure with Woody clamoring for attention TOO!! Not only do you have to wash your hands after touching him, you also have to change your clothes. It doesn’t exactly help with my laundry situation.

And Coffee, sweet little Coffee, is pregnant. Again. We really need to do something about this. But the puppies will be very good cattle dogs, a Kelpie/Catahoula mix.

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Plumbing and Other Updates

First, plumbing. Number One has redone the plumbing under the kitchen sink...twice? I have lost track. Perhaps three times. And it was still leaking. He finally just took a whole can (jar?) of plumber's putty, and molded it around just about every joint, and I don't think it is leaking now. I hope it's not leaking now.

At this point, we cannot WAIT for our new, professionally installed kitchen. Except, well, we do have to wait, since the bid hasn't even come in yet. But we are wholeheartedly looking forward to it!

The same day he "finished" the kitchen sink plumbing, I had asked him to replace the flush lever on our toilet. Ours was so old and corroded that H-Bomb couldn't even flush it anymore, which made for some rather unpleasant surprises in the bathroom. Plus, you had to hold it down until the flush was complete, and then manually return it to the "up" position, hoping all the while the flap inside the tank had closed. Not easy for anyone involved.

So, after the kitchen sink plumbing was thoroughly puttied, he took his tools into the bathroom. He touched the flush lever with his wrench...then he started yelling "Oh No! I need something! Help!" and I ran back there. The entire tank had CRACKED. I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Hard. It was hilarious. I emptied the bathroom garbage can and he wedged it under the tank, which was entirely full of water, as toilet tanks tend to be, and leaking all over the bathroom floor. Hilarious, I say.

Although I have never looked for one specifically, I honestly have never seen a toilet for sale in any store in our teeny-tiny town. And I wasn't willing to drive around looking for one, when just to town and back is almost 70 miles. I found a toilet on amazon, available in 5 business days. Shipping, it turns out, was probably less than the cost of fuel for driving back and forth to the nearest city.

Unfortunately, there is one problem with this amazon toilet scenario: amazon shipped the darn thing FedEx. And you know how much we like FedEx. I will keep you posted, I believe the toilet is currently in Denver...hopefully we will get it within the month.

In the meantime, we are using the bunk house toilet, and the boys are occasionally peeing outside.

In other news, it looks like Woody and Jessie are here to stay. CG has decided she likes them, and even convinced Wifey to take care of them sometimes.

Also, I have decided that the boys and I will not be staying at our town house during the week. It's just too hard without Daddy there, and we all miss him. We will only stay in town on Thursday nights, due to the fact that H-Bomb's Kindergarten starts almost an hour earlier on Fridays. It's just easier for us to already be in town rather than rushing around to get ready an hour earlier and having to drive almost an hour. That way, we can still be at the ranch, take care of the garden and the goats, and even see Daddy sometimes when he's not on the mountain. I know this whole school thing will get easier for me, and H-Bomb LOVES going to school. Sawed Off misses his big brother during the day, and sometimes has a hard time leaving him at school. It's so cute. There are big hugs all around at the end of each school day, which I wouldn't trade for anything.

And don't forget, my photo of Number One shoeing his horse has been submitted to the State Fair. We are even going to travel to the Big City in a week or two to check out the competition and see how my photo did, so stay tuned!

That's all I can think of for right now. I have several projects in the works, I will post about them in a while...I need to get busy!

Downsizing.

This is a process that's been going on for a while. I think it all began when we were out of town and CG decided to give away every single one of our puppies. H-Bomb and Sawed Off were devastated that they didn't get to say goodbye. They LOVED those puppies. And I was devastated at the method of "giving away" that was employed: a cardboard box, unattended, in the hot sun with no water, outside a Walmart which resulted in the Humane Society being called. Seriously. That is exactly what happened, and I am not yet over the cruelty and irresponsibility of it all.

And then, Coffee and Jack decided it was really super fun to attack and kill the sheep. One by one. At first, we thought it was just an "accident," cow dogs are too rough for sheep, sheep are more fragile than cows. We found one of our sheep had gotten out of the pen, and figured she had gotten cornered by the dogs. Then we found our lamb, in the pen, dead. Then there was a night of massacre, we lost another sheep and three of the four remaining were limping around and bleeding.

We put all the dogs on lock-down. Shortly thereafter we left for our scheduled vacation. While we were gone, it happened again. Despite our explicit instructions, more than one dog was out of the kennel at the same time. I believe three dogs were out at once, and they packed up and went after the sheep. Again. We lost another one.

We are down to three ewes now, and we are going to sell them. They are just not compatible with our current dog situation, and it is better to get rid of them now than to haul off their corpses later, honestly.

Then there are the goats, Woody and Jessie. I am really torn about this one. Since H-Bomb has started going to Kindergarten, I have felt like I just can't take care of the darn goats by myself. It's just too much. And Wifey is afraid of them, ever since Woody pinned her leg against the fence with his horns (I think he just wanted her to give him some attention) and then knocked her down and out of her shoes as she was running away from him. At least she is able to laugh about it, but she doesn't want to take care of them while I'm gone.

If the goats are staked out during the day, someone has to keep an eye on them so they don't get too tangled up and don't knock over their water. At night, they have to be run over to their little pen near the sheep. In the morning, they have to be run over to wherever it is they are to be staked out. It doesn't sound like a lot, and perhaps it's not, but day in and day out, it does get old and tedious.

I told CG that we needed to get rid of them, but now I'm having second thoughts. Maybe I could do it. I'll try it and see. If I get into the groove of taking H-Bomb to school, get organized, perhaps I could still put the goats in and out. I was really looking forward to trying to make goat cheese.

So anyway, as soon as we find a buyer, we won't have any more sheep. I'm not sure about the goats, and as affectionate as they are, we will miss them if they go. I'll keep you posted.

UPDATE: I asked Wifey if she would help with the goats one or two nights a week, and she said yes. And then later, she said no. So, unless I can find someone on the ranch who is willing to help with the goats...they're going to have to go. =(

Open Range

The horses got out yesterday. One of GBNP's rangers came driving in, and told me they were on the road. Perfect. Of course Number One is up on the mountain. Wifey came to watch the boys, and I grabbed a halter, and took off to try to get them in.

The only problem with this scenario? I didn't know where to put them. I wasn't sure where they had gotten out, and I was not entirely sure where they had been. I had seen them earlier in the field by CG's house, but none of those gates to the road were open.

I parked the van in the road by a curve, with the hazard lights going, and took off on foot. Of course none of them wanted to come near me. I finally got a halter around one, and he followed me all the way to the gate, into the field. I put him in, closed one gate, but left the other gate open and went back for more. It was hot walking on that pavement!

This is a busy season, traffic-wise, lots of tourons (tourist + moron = touron!) driving too fast in a rush to "See It All--Now!" So I wondered not only if the horses might get hit, but if my van would. Luckily nothing got hit. I got behind our miniature horse, Bilbo, and he started running. I ran behind the others, encouraging them by slapping my legs and yelling, and they all headed right in the gate. I still didn't know where they belonged, but there were off the road.

I cruised the fence line, found a gate that looked like it may have been cut (not much wire to fasten it) and managed to fasten it with the only tool I had: my fingers. Good thing I have pretty strong fingers. No other gates were open.

I was headed out on foot to check a couple other gates through the fields when I realized: I have to go through some tall brush. There might be snakes in there. I am wearing my sparkly sandals. I hopped in Number One's jeep and maneuvered it through the fields. I didn't know which gates were supposed to be open, which gates closed, but I figured if the horses could get to water, they'd be fine.

I sent Number One, up on the mountain, several text messages asking what to do, where the horses should be, etc. (In case you're wondering...no, we still don't have phone service of any kind down here. There is spotty cell service on the mountain, so I can email Number One from the computer, he receives it as a text, and then texts me back, which I receive as an email. It's basically emailing between cell phone and computer. It confuses some people. I'm honestly not sure why...)

This morning. A couple more park rangers drive in. The horses are on the road! First I said "Again?" And then I asked "Where?" Because the gate was open to the "Open Range" section--I knew the horses could get water at the creek, so when I found it open I left it open.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, "Open Range," it basically means an unfenced area through which a road runs, which isn't fenced so the animals are free to "range" back and forth on both sides of the road. This allows sections of land with no water (on one side of the road) to be connected to sections of land with water (on the other side of the road) so the land can be put to better use. It is well-marked with signs, so people have been warned. If they drive too fast, they are putting their own vehicles at risk--you don't want to hit a cow or a horse unless you want your car totaled.

The ladies said the horses were in the open range section. I said, "Okay, good, that's fine." But they wouldn't let it go. "People drive so fast! That little one is going to get hit! The chances! Oh, I just know one of them is going to get hit!"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't know what you want me to do about it. It's clearly marked open range, people need to slow down, cows get hit all the time because people drive too fast" I said.

They wouldn't stop. I kept repeating, "well, people need to slow down and look out" and finally they sort of threw up their hands and left. Honestly. They're our horses, right? It would be sad if one got hit, but of what concern is it to you? I'm not going to sit and argue with you when our horses and cows have a legal right to be where they are, when there are signs clearly stating Open Range. (Except for one time, someone put "W" stickers over all the R's on the signs, so the sign actually said, "Open Wange." Number One and I thought it was hilarious!)

I went inside, where I then got a text message/email from Number One. He said the horses were supposed to be in the pastures near the houses. Not in the open range. So I had to go get them in. I tried to find Wifey but she wasn't around. I packed up the boys in the minivan, grabbed a hat and took off. The halter from yesterday was still in the van.

I figured the horses would be right there, near the gate so I could just push them in. But NO. Where did I find them?


THREE MILES down the road. And guess where the four wheeler is? On the mountain. And I'm in a minivan, with two boys in the back. No off-road horse chasing with that thing.


I got behind the horses, parked the van and got out. There was a ton of traffic to watch the show. I whooped and hollered and ran after them, got them all herded up and headed in the right direction. I ran after them for a little while, then ran back to the van and drove ahead, yelling and honking from inside the van. I'm sure it was a sight.


I had to stop the van and get out and run behind them three or four times, but finally, in their own meandering, roundabout way, the horses just kept running in the right direction. Thank goodness, because the road veered away from their path at one point and they were a good half-mile or so away from me. No way I'm running through the desert that far in my sparkly sandals. (Yes, I wear them everyday. No, I didn't think to change my shoes before I left. I honestly thought it would be a piece of cake. I didn't envision I would be running through the desert and down the road so far in my sparkly sandals)


So, the horses kept running, me following beside them now, 1/2 mile away, still yelling and honking, waving cars past me. And I see Wifey, driving her truck down the trail, about right where the horses are headed! I really hoped she would see the horses running toward her, and park out of their path. Thankfully, she did.


The horses stopped at the irrigation ditch for a drink, and I drove down there, got out of the van again and herded them out of the ditch. They knew right where they were supposed to go, and ran right through the gate into the field. I ran after them and attempted to close the gate behind them.


I don't know what is up with this gate, but I couldn't close it correctly. I tried for a long time, but finally I just had to use my fingers again, and wrap a loop of wire around the bottom. At least it gives the horses and cows an "idea" of a gate. They could get through it if they wanted to, but I bet they won't.


Wifey had been picking flowers for her and I, some kind of lovely weeds. And she saw all of these hummingbird moths on the flowers, so I took some pictures.



The horses were right where they were supposed to be when I got home. And I got enough exercise for the week!

Truck Drivin' Cowgirl

Number One woke me at 4AM and asked me to drive the truck and trailer up the canyon at noon, about 10 miles to pick up him, CG and RanchHand after their cattle drive this morning. I left the boys with Wifey and took off. It was a bit after noon, and they didn't want to have to ride home several hours in the heat. The road leaves a bit to be desired, it hasn't been graded yet this year and to say there are "ruts" is putting it mildly. Country music blaring (only because we only get one station out here), I hauled that trailer up there. I made it up there with no incidents at all, which is sort of amazing because I don't remember driving the truck and trailer since I hauled a load of bulls down the creek when Number One and I were dating. It's a pretty big trailer.

I got there before they all did, and I heard some cattle in the canyon so I hiked over to the edge. Not far, but I was glad I had some Gatorade with me. It was hot and it was beautiful--the cacti were in bloom, and some other wildflowers too.








At the canyon edge, I saw that the cows were pushed through the gate and the gate was up. I didn't see any riders, so I turned to walk back. Then one rider came out from behind a rock. He was looking all over the place. It was too far to see who it was, so I whooped. He looked around more, and I yelled "Up here!" It was Ranchhand, and he yelled back, asking if I'd seen "any people on horses." I told him it was me, and that I hadn't seen them. He rode for a little ways, then yelled, "I see them!"

When Number One and CG got to the truck, Number One asked if I wanted to go ride the four wheeler to check the other gates. I said sure, since Wifey had the boys. Number One and I, with Coffee riding on the back, took off down the switchbacks into the canyon. There were two creek crossings that were pretty deep, but the four wheeler made it. I was a bit nervous about the crossings since we had less than half a Gatorade and many miles to go to get back to the ranch. (for the record, people have left notes on their stuck vehicles that said "I'm headed to the ranch" and have never been found).

So there was this thistle in the middle of the road, and Number One drove right over it on the way to the gate. I made him stop when we came back to it so I could take this picture. Amazing how tough these plants are--run over by a four wheeler and still beautiful.


We dipped in the icy creek and headed back. I couldn't get as wet as I wanted to because I had to carry the camera in my pocket. We did take turns driving because of the darn thumb throttle--on a bumpy road your thumb starts to ache after a while. It was nice to be on the four wheeler with no boys to worry about, a little break. I wish it could happen more often.

Busy Morning on the Ranch

The power came on before 6:am this morning. Despite the fact that I REALLY need a shower, I decided to get up and do yoga before the boys woke up. I got through a whole hour with no interruptions! Amazing. And Number One isn't even home; he's still in the Basin. I was also greeted by the discovery that my recipe blog, The Bad Girl's Kitchen, had a record 70 visits yesterday! Excellent.

Sawed Off woke up first, as usual, and ate two bowls of Cheerios, followed by Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos. He loves both of those.

Wifey offered to get some things from town for me, and brought her computer over for a quick fix because she couldn't close her browser window. Did I ever tell you I'm the resident computer expert?

H-Bomb woke up a little later, but wasn't ready to eat breakfast. He just wanted Garlic Pistachios. Which I had to shell for him.

I decided to get on the ball and make a double batch of Annaley's Prairie Fire Beans so I can freeze them and have them ready to take to my 20 year high school reunion in July. (I realize I just gave you an opportunity to do the math and figure out my age, but I still look young enough to get carded for beer, so I could deny deny deny if I really wanted to!)

The boys decided to play outside, naked, in the little kiddie pool, and then on the swing set, and then with their trucks. They've been busy too.

I never thought I could find a way to improve Annaley's classic recipe, but to be honest, I have. I start off frying onions in lard, the Mexican way, and then continue on with the recipe. They have such a great, smoky flavor! And I know I've said this before, but there is no better smell, except maybe coffee brewing in the morning, than onions fryin' up in lard. Trust me on this.

Once the beans and ham hocks went in the pot, I went out, still in my pajamas/yoga attire, greasy hair and all, to stake out the little goats.

But those little goats, Woody and Jessie, were not being cooperative. They were happy to see me, but then on the way to the stake they got distracted by some fresh little elm tree whips.


Then, they were about to jump on their favorite rock, but got distracted by the flowers Wifey planted around the base. Whoops! I pushed them onto the rock, then missed catching video of their usual morning bucking/kicking/leaping acrobatics to get off the other side.


We ran, the goats and I, between our house and the commissary, past the gas tanks, and it was going pretty well: I could see the darn stake, over there between the bath house and the little log cabin, nicely shaded. Unfortunately for me, all the goats could see was fresh alfalfa growing in the sunny yard behind the bunk house. I got their water ready, untangled their ropes. After 20 minutes of cajoling and bribery, I gave up. I went and pulled up their stake, and tied them out where they stood and moved their water. They don't have any shade right now, but it's only 10:30am so they'll be okay for a while. Perhaps once they eat all the alfalfa, they'll be ready to move.

The good news is, I finally found the darn sledgehammer that's been missing for at least a week. And the ground in the yard was fairly soft, especially with a good sledgehammer to pound in the stake instead of the lame rock I'd been using!

Back at the house, the beans are bubbling away on the stove, the boys (still naked) are eating fresh cherries (which I, of course, had to pit by hand for Sawed Off b/c my cherry pitter thingie is packed away in the cabin somewhere, and if I didn't he would just crunch up or swallow the pits), and I am finishing this blog. All before 11:am.

I already feel like I accomplished a lot today, but there is always more to do. I got more jalapeños the other day, and I need to get another batch of Bacon Wrapped Jalapeños in the freezer! (you can never have too many!) And then there's the Steak Fajitas I need to prepare and freeze because I don't know if the meat will last until Number One gets home from the Basin! And I still would really like to take a shower! If I feel like it later today, I'll do another post to let you know what I've been up to.

R.I.P. Li'l Bugger

Li'l Bugger was one of the original kittens that I brought home to the ranch with their mother, KitKat, in July 2006. I brought KitKat, Bugger and her six brothers and sisters home because the folks in town weren't allowed to have pets in their rental house. At the time, we had a huge mouse problem, and we needed all the cats we could get. And these cats were free.

We tried to keep the kittens in the house for a while, but despite the overwhelming cuteness, it was just plain overwhelming. We moved them outside, and they eventually found their way to their own territories on the ranch. And all the mice went away. One of the orange boys was a casualty on the main road. KitKat, not eager to cut the kittens loose, but frustrated by the constant nursing of grown kittens who just wouldn't give up, finally ran off a couple miles down the road to the hay barn. The two other orange boys stayed around, and we still see them occasionally. They don't really like each other.

A couple of the girls, Smokey and Princess, made their way up to CG's house. Bugger chose a different path. She moved down to the long shed, and she would come to our house occasionally for food and petting. (and when I say "occasionally" I mean it: my dad still laughs when he remembers the day we were down at the long shed corral, and Bugger ran out to see us. "Well, Bugger! I thought you were dead!" I exclaimed)

She was named Bugger because when you were walking, Bugger would attack and bite your feet and trip you up. Bugger would also jump up, rubbing against your knee, if you weren't paying her enough attention. She was pretty much alone down in the long shed. But when we got sheep, Bugger got company.

Bugger snuggled right up to those sheep. She jumped up, rubbing up against their wool, eating corn with them, and we're sure that's how she made it comfortably through the long, cold winter.

Bugger had a batch of kittens last year, or I guess I should say she had one kitten. We could never find it, she never showed us where it was, but she only ever had one "used" nipple when she came around for food. Unfortunately our dog Stanley discovered the kitten before we did, and put an end to it. H-Bomb saw Stanley carrying it in his mouth past the sliding glass door, the same time I did. To answer his "what does Stanley have," I quickly said, "a baby bunny."

Anyway, this year, Bugger must have been pregnant, although she never looked it. She must have had some complications, of which we weren't aware until last week when she came around, asking for help when we had dinner guests. One of H-Bomb's preschool friends and his family were down, and H-Bomb came in and said, "Bugger's here and she has poop coming out of her butt and it's bloody" (sorry for the graphic description, he's almost five years old)

I took one look at her, shooed the kids away, trying not to freak out in front of our guests, and got Number One. He found that she had prolapsed, meaning her uterus was inside out, coming out of her body. Normally, he could have pushed it back in, but she had waited too long to ask us for help and it had begun to dry out. There was nothing he could do for her.

Bugger hung in there, hanging around the sheep and the long shed for several days. When I would go to feed corn to the sheep, she was there, wanting attention. I was hoping she would somehow get better, but she didn't. And of course when I found her tonight, Number One was up in the Basin. Luckily for me, Farmer was here, so I asked him to take care of her before one of the dogs found her. I haven't told the boys yet, although H-Bomb wanted to know what I was talking to Farmer about.

We'll miss ya, Bugger.

Who Knew?

Who could have ever guessed--after just a few days, these little goats are the sweetest, friendliest, cuddliest pets. Although I was advocating for the names "Chupa" and "Cabra" (get it? Chupacabra? the mythical Mexican blood-sucking creature? It would have been awesome), H-Bomb decided to name the goats Woody and Jessie (from Toy Story, possibly his all-time favorite movie). Woody is the boy, and Jessie is the girl.

Woody and Jessie are sweet little things. They love to eat carrots, peas, arugula, cauliflower, pretzels and the occasional ginger snap. They are snugly. They like to taste your clothing, sparkly sandals, and any strings hanging off your jeans. They love to be loved. They love being scratched behind the ears and horns, and on the neck. They love H-Bomb and Sawed Off.

They are curious about Baby Kittie and the dogs, and like to try out the boys' swing set.

They don't like to be left alone, calling out to you and trying to follow after you when you leave.

And they definitely don't like it when Mia licks them on the nose.

Livestock Update, Part Two

CG came home with more livestock yesterday. With a plethora of cows, horses, sheeps, dogs, cats, lizards and a salamander in residence, What could it possibly be?


A little pair of breeding goats. H-Bomb claimed the girl as his own, which means Sawed Off gets the boy. Theoretically, these goats will be tame and follow the boys around like dogs. We'll see about that.


For now, this cowgirl is going to learn about Cheese Making. And perhaps Goat Stew. They eat my garden, and the word "perhaps" will go away...