Puppies! Want One? Seriously...

We have five male puppies, ready for new homes! They are boxer/kelpie mix, and both of their parents, Coffee and Stanley are excellent cow dogs. Their big sister Jack is an excellent cowdog too, she was born last year. Anyone want one? We really can't keep any of them.

H-Bomb asked if we could name one Stanley and then keep him. :( (We lost Stanley this winter.) He also thinks we should get a new "Joe-Dog" some day.

H-Bomb and I had a good time playing with all the puppies today!

It's Ruined. :(

I don't know how it happened. First of all, who makes a cowgirl shirt that can't be washed?? Seriously. Rayon? Are you kidding? Cowgirls get DIRTY. So, this is the shirt I wore to the Bull Sale this year. The last and final time it will ever be worn by anyone. Why, you might ask?

Well, the shirt got into the laundry. And although the stupid little tag says "Dry Clean Only," your favorite cowgirl (ME) was in a hurry to get the laundry done, and didn't think to read the tag. So the shirt went through the washer. And then, as if that wasn't bad enough, the darn thing went through the freaking dryer!! AAARRRGGHHHH!!!

Now the fabric is all puckered and unevenly shrunken, and the sleeves shrunk so much so that it cannot possibly be worn!! As some might say around these parts, "Darn it All to Heck!!" (yes, it's true. I am that angry about it.)

Maybe I'll turn the thing into a pillow.

Clearing the Fields

The other day I asked Wifey to watch H-Bomb and Sawed Off while I helped move the cows out of the hay fields. Number One saddled up my mustang, Calamity, for me, while I got ready.





I don't believe I've been on a horse since last summer. I was in a hurry to get ready because Number One and RanchHand were already saddled, and I was NOT going to wear my Citizens jeans to go riding. I changed into my Levi's 501's, slathered on some sunscreen (imperative) and got my hat wet so it could stretch to fit my head better while it dried. I totally forgot to grab my new chinks that I got for Christmas, and also forgot spurs. At least I was wearing Levi's. They help me feel like a cowgirl. My boots too!

We drove out to Field One, and started gathering the cows. The basic plan was to gather the fields, pushing cattle from one to the next, until Field Seven, at which point we would push them out into the canyon. We've started irrigating the fields, and the cattle love the fresh greens that are coming up. But we'll need those fresh greens to grow in order to feed the cattle later, so the cows can't be hanging out in the fields right now. RH rode down to the beginning of Field One to bring these cattle back, while Number One and I rounded up some that were under a tree in the opposite corner of the field.




The picture above was taken in Field One, across the fence in the foreground is Field Two and just past/in front of the Island (left) is Field Three (right) where the hay barn is. We gathered cows in every field, and pushed them around in front of the Island toward the next field.


The cattle were fairly well-scattered, but once they saw us coming, they knew the drill and moved right along, for the most part. The calves sometimes get confused and lose their mamas, but Number One helps them figure out where the gate is. (unless they walk through the fence first) This one needed a little help, but it didn't take long.



I probably shouldn't admit to you that at some point, right around here, I thought I saw a few cows that we missed. You know, back in the dirt hills and sagebrush, at the edge of the plowed fields. I even told Number One we had missed some, and we rode back together through the previous field. And then, there was nothing there but dirt hills. Red dirt hills, I feel like I must clarify, red dirt hills that, from a distance, look like red angus cows. I swear they do.


This cactus was blooming! I convinced Calamity to stand still for two seconds while I took this picture. Cactus blooms mean Spring is here! Finally! Right?





There are lots of interesting things to see out in the desert. Honestly it's just nice to get OUT! This cow didn't make it. One day we'll come back to pick up his skull for H-Bomb and Sawed Off's skull & stone sculptures.


I don't know who rode my saddle last, but man oh man did they have short legs! My knees were killing me! Number One had to come over halfway through our ride and lengthen my stirrups. He's helpful that way.


After we pushed the cattle through this gate, and they were heading off to the right, Number One had to ride around to the front and turn them back toward the left of this picture, toward the gate to the canyon. Not hard, you just have to anticipate where the cows are going to go, and get them going the right way. Calamity and I brought up the rear. Beyond the corral is a hill, followed by a bunch of prickly brush, and the gate is somewhere down there. So it was a bit challenging keeping the cows together and heading the right way. Some of them simply Did. Not. Want. To. Go. that way.


Calamity isn't used to me, and really hasn't been ridden a lot of hours. Plus I didn't have my spurs. So you should have seen the speed at which she chased a runaway cow. NOT. I got a little frustrated with her. Especially after essentially w a l k i n g after a cow, losing it through the gate we had just pushed her through, and then (then??) she starts breathing hard? Are you kiddin' me, Calamity?? Anyway, maybe next time, with my spurs on, she will be a bit more responsive to where (and how fast!) I would like her to go...

And the runaway cow? Well, she kept trotting, almost all the way back from whence she came. Yes, she trotted ahead of us, from Field Seven almost all the way to Field One. Crazy thing. Number One and RH had already closed the last gate, and they'll have to re-ride the fields and the creek anyway, so they didn't really care. And my horse couldn't care less. In fact, she almost (almost, just barely) actually trotted herself. Back to the truck and trailer! Sheesh.

Bull Sale 2008!

Every spring, Number One's Uncle P. has a Bull Sale. The whole family (and tons of folks from the surrounding area!) gathers for an awesome meal followed by the auction of some of the best Angus bulls you will ever see. This year, they estimated that around 650 lunches were served!

This is a huge family effort. It's a good thing Uncle P. has 7 brothers and sisters, and 7 kids of his own! Incidentally, many of those 7 kids also have kids...I don't believe it will ever end! Number One has a humongous extended family.

The bull sale is a haven for little cowboys (and little cowgirls too!)

It could,however, be a potential disaster for the likes of Buzz Lightyear and Woody.

Uncle B. (and perhaps a cousin or two) get up around 4:00AM to start cooking the meat in this huge grill. I don't know all the details, I just know the end result is delectable.


I should have taken more pictures of the food. It draws people from surrounding counties and indeed surrounding states, and is an example of community that seems lacking in other places these days. The recipes are largely the legacy of Number One's grandmother, with some changes and embellishments by her daughters and grandaughters. Dishes including the infamous Prairie Fire, Cowboy Beans, coleslaw, and BBQ sauce that is to die for. Top it off with a branded brownie and some lemonade, and you have one heck of a meal!

We always take a walk to Aunt D's ranch house to check out her beautiful blooming flowers, take a break from the sale activity (and noise!) and relax and visit for a while.



There are usually a number of colts for sale, this year only two. This one was so tired by the end of the day, he just had to take a nap. "What, who, me? I'm not...oh, it's just you."

"I'll go back to sleep then."

I don't know if there is anything cuter than kids on a hay bale.

And, just so you get a feel for the action, here is a video of the sale of one bull. (this one went at a steal, by the way, it seemed to me most bulls were going for more than twice this price!)

At the end of the sale, bull buyers are eligible for prizes, including a Peg Perego Kids John Deere Gator, Pendleton Wool Blankets, Cabela's gift certificates and for the big kids, and a Yamaha 4X4 Rhino.

After all the excitement, part of the family heads to the old ranch house, AKA Annaley's house, to play cards, visit and eat leftovers.

What a fantastic day. We can't wait for next year.

A Cowgirl's Birthday Dinner

Today was my birthday, and Number One made me a birthday dinner, as he does every year. Most cowboys are decent cooks. My cowboy happens to be an excellent cook. We had dinner at CG's with the boys, RanchHand and Wifey. Just a small party.

For dinner this year, we had fries:


Steamed and salted asparagus:


And a pile of steaks:



Number One even made dessert: Island Chocolate Coconut Rum Pie, with rum-whipped cream. It was absolutely as decadent as it looks. You should make one for your wife. Or husband. Or whoever. Just go make one. We also had wine, which probably goes without saying.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Spring & Sprinklers

Number One is out in the fields, getting the wheel lines ready to start irrigating. H-Bomb didn't want to go help him. Neither did Sawed Off. So they were outside playing.

Then we heard barking out in one of the fields. The hounds, Sonny and Rico, along with CG's dogs Taz and Hank and perhaps even Coffee or Donut (it was too far to tell) were bugging some cows and bulls out there. I yelled at them, but they didn't bat an eye. I ran around and tracked down the four wheeler, then grabbed H-Bomb and Sawed Off and chased the dogs out of the field.

Number One heard the barking from the next field, and the hounds heard his jeep coming, so they hightailed it over to him. I said to the boys, "Do you want to go see what Daddy's doing?" Despite the fact that they had on no shoes and no sweatshirts, they decided they did want to go see Daddy.

And that, my friends, is how I tricked them. I took them out there, showed them all the kinds of fun that Daddy was having replacing every single broken sprinkler head on the wheel line, out in the freshly spring-toothed field, AKA the dirt. I asked them if they wanted to stay. Offered to go back and get them shoes and sweatshirts. They said YES! Coffee came with me on the four wheeler. Sometimes she just has to get away from her five puppies. I can relate. I came back to the house, faster with just me and Coffee on the four wheeler, grabbed shoes and sweatshirts, and went back to the field.

Sawed Off was in Daddy's jeep, handing him sprinkler heads.

H-Bomb was barefoot, walking the wheel line.

I put on sweatshirts and H-Bomb's shoes, then I left.

Well, I couldn't stay, could I?

You can't fix wheel lines wearing sparkly sandals.