Author: onlyinastauffworld

that’s what I do…

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Life has been tough… hard… and boring… No raccoons and the kids are all out of the nest living their best life. Anxiety, work, and stress have taken the front seat. Summer came in long and dark even though the sun is shining bright. Winter dreams of a vacation dashed as life stepped in and said, “not now kid”. I have been away more days from the ranch than I’d like to say. Just life, sometimes it steals the fun and the spark right out of your soul. You can’t say anything, cause honestly, who wants to listen to a downer? Then you have those uber-positive folks that exist, who, if they heard you utter the negative, they would try to sweep you up and explain all of the great things you have going in your life… “You are still alive”, “Every day is a gift”, “It will get better”, “You are just stuck in a groove”. To them, yes, you are correct, I am each and every one. I know that. But, sometimes life gets dark and starts closing in on you.

One thing that has been ‘hummin is Paleo Park tours. Folks from all over the world have been dropping emails, texting and calling, looking to see if they can find their own 67 million year old treasure. Tours ground me. I get to tell stories of yesterdays. Even if those yesterdays were 20 years ago, 40 years ago or 120 years ago, I get to forget my world for 2 hours and dive back into happier days. Paleo was my Dad’s dream. Years and years of dragging dinosaurs bones into the house and piling them into boxes and buckets had stretched the space in the house. Upon finding Kelsey, the Triceratops, Dad’s dream started to become reality. He wanted a lodge that would house all of our dinosaurs that we found. A place where scientist, scholars and kids could come find dinosaurs. A place in the fall could turn into a hunting camp. Where tall tales, laughter and a little beer could be shared. So, all be damn if he didn’t build it. But, we know how the story ended. Dad died in the middle of building it. Then, I took the reins and put my brand to Paleo Park. It connects me to Dad.

Dad always loved dinosaurs. Why not? Dinosaurs are something we have always had. From the earliest of days of 1906 to present day. 5 generations have dug dinosaurs on the ranch and not one of us are “professionals” so to speak. Even though none of us are “professionals”, there has been some wild stuff taken off the ranch and a few changes of paleo history made in the process. Dad loved to tell stories of the ranch and show everyone the dinosaur bones we had. He especially loved to see the look on little kids faces when it clicked that they were the first human to ever touch a 67 millin year old bone. That is what Paleo Park was meant for. I made up the term, “Where your imagination meets reality” to describe Paleo Park and it really is true. Do people really know about us? No. Do the locals come by and check us out? No. It is all good, cause the ones who do want to know about us, come. Since I have to have a real job to help pay bills, tours are pushed to the weekends. For a change, the weekends have been busy this summer.

My tour a few weeks ago had a family from Germany visit us. A family of four. Mom, Dad and 2 adorable little kids. The kids were little, I would put them around 6 and 8. The kids didn’t understand English, but the parents would tell them of all my ramblings. I skipped the history of the ranch on this one. The looks on their face told me they wanted to go find some dinosaur bones. We headed out, swapping stories of our two worlds. I laughed and apologized for our country as they all must laugh at the state of our country anymore. The Dad laughed and said for sure not as they loved the good ole USA and to be honest Germany is just a mess. We went to the tracks and I watched them get quite and stare as I explained how a T-Rex, Hadrosaur, crocodile, Zerbsti and a handfull of other dinosuars walked through this one spot within 2 hours of each other. I rolled my hand over the Zerbsti and I talked about how it is the only one in the world and named after my family. The parents were in the awe and the kids were chomping to go find a dinosaur bone. So I said, “let’s go find some dinosaur bones”. That they figured out and excitement shot across their faces.

We went to the microsite, or as we call it, the beach. I explained what it looked like in the day, or my interpretation of what it all looked like. We all zoned in and started to pluck ancient bones out of the earth. The first human to roll it in their hands and give it a gander. The Mom was sitting next to me and we were talking about bones that were around us. She started to trace her fingers over a bone in the ground. I knew what it was as she started to brush the dirt off of it. She asked me what it was. I smiled and said “it is frill, the round part around a Triceratops head”. She jumped up, squeeled and danced around. It made me happy. As she was showing her find to her family, I was sifting through the hole that the bone had left. I saw a tip of something I knew all too well what was about to pop out of the dirt. I let out a “ohhh”.. The mom said, “What?”. I told her, “get Leo”. She hollered at Leo and he came up. She explained to him that I had found something and I wanted to show him. I took my hand away and there sat a beautiful Nanotyrannus tooth. He grabbed it like he was grabbing a golden nugget. He asked her what it was and she told him and he sat there and stared at it. The rest of the family came over and they carefully tucked it into a speciman sack that they had brought along. The mom later found a tip of a T-Rex tooth which was pretty cool.

When we got back from the tour my little pal Leo was digging through his treasures and looking them all over. He looked over at me and asked his mom where his tooth was. She pulled it out and he again sat it into his little hand looking at it. I wondered what he was thinking about. He looked back at me watching him and smiled at me. He asked his mom to help him take off his long sleeve shirt. Under his long sleeve, he had a tshirt that had cartoon dinosaurs all over it. He again smiled at me and pointed to his shirt. I came over and started poking at all the dinosuars on his belly and talking and laughing about each one. Giggles surrounded us as we sat there talking dino’s and knowing neither one of us knew what the hell we were saying. Through his laughter, he told his mom something. His Mom looked at me and said, “Leo wants me to tell you that he is very happy”. That little 6 year old soul took my breathe away. Here we were, one 6 and one let’s just say, old, didn’t understand what each other was saying, but one simple dinosaur tooth brought us both to the same playing field. That moment was stamped into my brain. A good day. The reason why Dad wanted to do this brought front and center to my brain yet again.

The following tour brought in some grand parents that brought their grand kids to try their luck. I started my little speech that I have legit given 100’s of times before. So many times, that it just starts to roll out like a record. I got to the part of Dad wanting to build Paleo and I could feel my voice was going to crack. I tried to take a deep breathe to stop the lump that was starting to form in my throat. It was no use. My voiced cracked and in an instant a few hot tears leaked out of my eyes. I was surprised at myself as usually I whip right through it. Not today. I couldn’t finish my speech, I took a deep breathe, aplogized for my break and asked the kids who was ready to go find bones. Then we went on down the dusty rutted road. We got to the microsite and I sat down on the ground to help them start finding things. As I was looking at the ground I saw something move out of my eye. A perfect gray feather that looked exactly like the feathers tattooed on my arm came floating by. I grabbed it and popped it into my pocket. When I got home, I went to look at the feather. Wouldn’t you know, the feather was gone, just a memory existed.

Even though the bumps, canyons, valleys of life have etched across my life this year, doesn’t mean all is lost. I get these little glimpses of light that show me it is all ok. Maybe it is because tomorrow would have been Dad’s birthday or maybe it was a little kid named Leo who helped me remember why I do what I do. Did I mention my Dad’s name was Leonard? Maybe, just maybe, Dad really isn’t gone, just always around laying stuff in front of my face to pull my ass up and show me that there is a reason for everything. I mean, he got me to write it. Happy early birthday to the man who gave me the art of story telling, the fight in my belly and the hazel in my eyes.

Colder than a witches t….

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Winter… in Wyoming.. can suck at times. It also blows… more ways than one. This past week, it blew.. Growing up on the ranch during times like this there were always colorful words that would float through the house. Famous sayings that were oftern repeated, “Colder than a witches tit” or “Cold enough to freeze the balls on a brass monkey”. They all still linger in my brain when the temperatures start to drain below the minus mark. This past week.. Where do I start? I guess it all started with the weather app that said dangerous weather coming.

The Stauff brought in lots of wood for me and put out extra mineral for the cows before he left for the week for his job. I grabbed the reins of the ranch and nodded to him that all would be just fine. The temperatures started to fall a little at a time. The snow would blow in, the wind would gently blow and then it was like mother nature dropped her drawers and let it all hang out. Temperatures plummeted and the wind screamed and I froze. My days were filled with finding and feeding cows and then chopping/chipping/pitching ice out of the stock tank.

The first day, I made sure our feeding pickup, “Artie”, was plugged in and ready for action. Artie has a cold block and if it ain’t warmed up, he isn’t starting. I whispered a few prayers before I cranked it over and luckily it fired up. I went and loaded hay while the snowflakes tossed around in the sky. I had about 3 layers on to battle back the wind, a head/face hood and stocking cap. Hay was loaded, cows were spotted and away I went. I usually linger amongst the cows and hand feed some cake and talk to each one. Today, they just got hay. Sorry girls, we will save that shit for another warmer day. Hay fed, I rumble across the pasture to the water tank. An 8 foot tank full of ice. “Ah Frogs”, I mumbled as I pulled up to a fresh coat of snow laying on about 3 inches of ice. I grabbed the ax, the pitch fork and our pooper scooper to clean out the slush. I throw the ax into the ice, no water.. I cursed a trail of words. I threw the ax again. Water comes spurting out of the thin hole. With one hole started, I start whittling on the rest. Soon the whole tank looked like a pile of jigsaw puzzle pieces. I grabbed the pitchfork and started to clean it out. The skin around my eyes that the wind was beating on was starting to sting. I finished with the pooper scooper cause as Grandpa would say, “the tank isn’t clean if there is still ice in it”. Something my 50 year old brain repeats to itself everytime I pitch a tank out. Chores all done, I checked all the building to make sure they still had heat and there was nothing spraying water. “Ahh” I said, as I jumped back in Artie, “everything is good, The Stauff will be home tomorrow, thankfully, to help through this cold”.

The next day arrived colder and windier.. It also arrived with a phone call from The Stauff saying he just got a call that he would have to work the weekend. My smile turned upside down. “EHH?” I closed my eyes. Nothing he can do, completely out of his hands. I looked around the house and listened to the wind catch another gear that made the house moan a little. I smiled and said, “no worries, I can take care of this side”. Which I knew I could, but.. there is always that but. I bundled up this day with 4 layers. The air temp was -16 and I have no idea what the wind temp was at.. But it was freaking cold. I unplugged Artie and gave him a pep talk to start. I actually begged him to start. He came through and turned over. He was stiff and didn’t want to run. I felt for him and let him warm up a bit before I kicked in the 4×4 and headed to the hay pile. I glanced over across the creek and spied the cows penned up against a big cut bank that protected them from the wind. Ahh, good ole girls, now just stay there. I started peeling off the hay and pitching it on the bed of Artie. I would throw it on and the wind would blow it off. I would pictch it back up and push it to the front of the cab. It seemed like an eternity that I piled up hay. I glance back at the cows. Them unpatient bastards couldn’t wait.. a few started to trail out to me.. “FRICK”, I said.. I started to throw hay on alot quicker.. I get what I needed and hauled ass out before the rest of them were out in the elements. I gathered them all back up and tucked them back into the cut bank and fed them heavily. No cake again today girls. Love on that hay a little bit. By this time my finger tips are numb. I jump into Artie and pull off my gloves. I dive them under my layers to warm up. I drive back to the water tank. I am wiping the ice that was one my eyelids that is now melting and dripping down my face staring at the water tank. I get the usual tools out and line them up against Artie. I throw the ax, no water. I throw again, no water. I throw a third time, no water. I leaned back and rolled a few cuss words. I hit if the fourth time.. aha.. water comes poking out. I chopped and chopped and chopped some more. I would take a break and pitch ice.. This ice was about 6 inches or so deep. The float is froze and after looking it over I noticed ice on the bottom of the float right over the float arm. I thought to myself, “If I break that float The Stauff will hang me”. I pondered it. The Stauff had told me that morning that if the ice was too thick to only chop half and he would help when he got home. Well he got his wish. I was froze and couldn’t do it anymore. I abandoned my job and went home to get warm. I got home and looked in the mirror at my face. A red ring showed exactly where the ice had been building on my face. I closed my eyes and apologized to my Grandpa, I had failed. I confessed my sins to The Stauff who felt horrible that he couldn’t be there to help me. He told me that it wasn’t a big deal and he would help me when he got home, whenever that would be.

The 3rd day. The wind ceased to my amazement and the sun came out. It was a glorious -22. Artie started fine, hay was loaded, cows were out and about milling around. Still no cake. I didn’t bring a shovel to clear a path for that. I go back down to my water tank project. The Stauff had built me a heater for the water tank a few years back. I had pondered it all night and I came prepared. I had lighter fluid, paper, card board, a bucket of coal, an arm full of wood, kindling and a propane torch. I was putting heat to the tank. With no wind, the fire was easy to get burning. I started chopping the ice out. AHHH, only about 3 inches today. NICE! but I still had my half of a tank of 6 inche deep from yesterday. It was nice enough, so I kept at it. I knew I had to get the float free, but it is a delicate feat. One wrong tap with the ax and the float is NO MORE. I had the fire burning hot and the ice was already starting to melt around the barrel. I kept inching the barrel closer to the float to help me melt it out. I got all the ice that I had chopped pitched out of the tank and I stood back to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my float. I sure as hell didn’t want to the one to break it. I jumped up on top of the ice that was suspending the float. Now, this last lonely piece of ice that was in the tank was only about 2 feet wide. I was actually damn impressed with myself that I had cleared the whole tank by myself. Bending over on top of this sliver of ice, daintly tapping the ice on the float, I stood back up and turned my head. I instantly heard a sizzle noise. My brain was like like, “Yo, your hair is on fire”. As I had turned my head I had moved my head past the stove pipe coming up from my fire. I shrieked and started patting my head. As I stood there on top of the ice, I kep patting my head thinking, “it is out right?”. Now, keep in mind it didn’t burn my hair as most of it was buried in my hood. It singed a few that had the audacity to be in the elements. I studied my fire and melting process. I thought if I could get that fire really boiling, I bet it would melt out. I stoked it up with alot of wood and more coal and went home. It took me 2.5 hourse to chop out and almost burn up.

The Stauff had called when I got home and said they were releasing him. My shoulder muscles relaxed a little knowing reinforcement was on it’s way home. I told him what I had done and I got the “why did you do that? I would have helped”. I told him the weather was so nice, why waste a day inside. I don’t think he believed me. He knew how it ate me alive knowing I didn’t get it cleaned out. I asked him to fill the barrel up again with wood when he got home, which he did.

The 4th day. The Stauff is home. Thank the Almighty. It was still -25 in the AM. We got up and he went and loaded down Artie with hay. We decide to pull in the cows against another big cut bank out of the wind. I tell him my stories of how I almost dropped a tire in an old stump hole and how someone was watching over me. He grinned and said “So you are saying to follow your tracks?”. I gut laughed and said, “yuh, I would. Saved my ass”. I also told him that I had visited with the cows enough the past few days that I was staying in Artie while he pitched it out. He smiled and then frowned when he got back in. The wind had started to pick up. He says, “this weather is fricking stupid”. I agreed as he picked up my tracks in the snow from the previous day and we made our way to the water tank. I was looking at all the buildings making sure there was no ice coming out from doorways or walls as I heard The Stauff say, “hey your heater must have worked, the float melted out and the water is back up”. I shot my eyes to the tank. My grin started from one ear and went to another. I shouted, “IT WORKED, IT WORKED”. There was only a touch of the 6 inch ice shlef left in the tank. Granted it was surrounded by 3 inches of new ice. It was cold and windy and ice was starting to form on my face again, but I didn’t care. I completed my job. I got the ice out.

We went home and studied the weather forecast. The 40 degree day that was supposed to be on the horizon had dropped to 30. I told The Stauff, “That 40 degree day was what got me through that shit”. He laughed at me and said, “I bet the 30 degree day will still feel pretty damn good”. That night of the 4th day it got down to air temp of -37. Magee had called me and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking through my hair to see what I had singed in the fire. He said, “Mom, what did you do?”. lol..Those days were miserable. But at the end of the day, the cows all made it through, we had no accidents, we were all safe and warm and that is all that really matters. Grandpa would be proud I think, cause it was colder than a witches tit and I made it.

Life with a Weim.

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

My life with my weim, whom I lovingly call my hound has been a wild 12 years. She has given me more than a few gray hairs. If I were to be honest she has given me more gray hair than the kids ever thought of. I created a monster the day I brought her home and was exhausted from driving 6 hours to get her and turning around driving 6 hours back. I laid her in her new Walmart bed. I fell into my soft, welcoming bed and I immediately heard her start to whine. 12 years later, I should have just let her whine. She was so soft and cuddly. What could one night of sleeping in my bed hurt. 12 years later, it hurt my sleep pattern immensely. Like she never left my bed and she booted The Stauff out of bed when she tipped the scale at 80 pounds. Now at 100 pounds, she knows my bed is her bed and allows me to sleep there. Although her seperation anxiety would kick in if I weren’t there and she would find wherever I was and would sleep there anyway. Trust me, that connection is a Weim thing.

Since she was in my bed, when she would catch a smell filtering through the house and blow up, pacing till I let her out. She would blow out the door with her hair sticking straight up off her ass. She looks both ways in the yard, ears flopping up and down, the blue of her eyes darting around, just in case a random raccoon was lurking in the shadows. Nothing, she sniffs around the fresh cut grass and finds the perfect spot to pee. Barks a few more times, kicks her back feet up kicking up dead grass as it flies behind her. This goes on about 5-10 mins. Then she is ready to come back in and sleep for a few more hours before it starts all over again. This has been my life for 12 years. I have been living a new born baby life for 12 years. The up and down every night has created a bad sleep pattern for me. I talked to my Dr. and I told her how tired I am about 2:00 P.M. The converstaion went like this.

Me: “also, I am having a hard time about mid day. I am so tired around 2 I could just face plant”.

Dr: “How is your sleep pattern? I ask because sometimes people have sleep issues that need further testing with. Do you feel you get enough deep sleep?”

Me: “Well I usually get up 3 or 4 times a night”.

Dr: “What makes you get up that much during the night?”

Me: “Um, my dog needs to be let out. She paces around my bed until I let her out”.

Dr: “oh”..

Me: “deep sigh”

Dr: “how long has this gone on?”

Me: “well, she is going to be 12 years old next month.”

Dr: “Oh shhhhhii…”

Me:…………..

Dr: “I am so sorry, I don’t think I can help with you being so tired”.

As you can see I get excited to go on work trips, cause I get a bed to myself for the whole night. Although, after 12 years, my body just thinks it needs to get up. I am used to it. What is a girl to do with a dog that she adores?

This whole not sleeping was perplexing to me. I wondered if I did get a solid nights sleep would it make a difference. Would I be like the Grinch and my black heart might beat a little different with a little sleep? I decided to try a sleep app to see how well my sleep really was. What could it hurt? I found an app that I thought would do the ticket.. monitored sleep, rem sleep, deep sleep, awake time etc. Then it would analyze it. I set it all up and hit start.

I had a hard time going to sleep that night. I went to bed around 10:30 and saw 11 roll on past like nothing.. I finally drifted off to sleep at some point. In the middle of the night, all of a sudden something hit me in the face. Like dead center on my nose. I swear to God himself I thought someone was in the house and I was about to be featured on a tik tok rabbit hole of what happened to Kris Stauffer. My mind flashed with locations of all the guns and knives in the house. All of the configurations came back with, “You are probably just going to die”. I thought about the punch to the noise and was thankful I dont have any bones in my nose, I felt it would have broke or seriously tweaked if I had. This all spun out in what felt like 10 seconds. I finally opened my eyes to see who had smoked me on the nose. Brave to meet my fate. Complete darkness. “shit” I thought, “who or what in the hell was that”. I thought to myself “hold up, ya know it kinda felt like the hounds paw”. I reach out and feel the hounds foot. I grab it and extend it to my face.. yep.. sound asleep she was.. must have been dreaming and kicked me in the face. I holler at her. “Geezus H..move your ass”. She grumbled and moaned and moved to her side. Back to bed. Then she smelled a smell, off to the door.. bark and holler.. back to bed.. back to sleep.

My little app started shaking and sending out some odd noises abruptly at 7:00 A.M. Hushing my phone and stretching I remembering the app, I was excited to review my metrics. I get a “congratulations your sleep quality was 83%”. 83% I thought. HOW?? I kept reading. It said I fell asleep 9 minutes after going to bed. Now, I am calling bullshit. I saw the clock hit past 11:00. Then I look at the graphs of what looks to be alot of deep rem sleep. Eh? When?

I reviewed the recordings hoping and half ass praying I heard no voices.. 👻.. at approximately 1:20 A.M., I heard some noise and then a “geezus H. Move your ass”. “Ahh”, I thought, that is when The Hound kicked me in the nose. Remembering the thought that my life was ending at the hands of some sketch shit made me chuckle. Then I heard her bark and go out, come back in.. I went through the rest of the metrics. Amazed, it all shows I slept well. I sat their pondering as I pet my hound.. the hound.. she snored all night. That damn app picked up her snoring and put it into my metrics. Which is why “I” went to sleep 9 mins after I hit the button.. damn it. First she smokes me in the nose and then steals my cool app. I can’t win..at least one us is getting good sleep.

Fall=A full circle

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

When you have cows, falls means one thing, the life of having cows is about to make a full circle. Selling off the calves and the older cows that need to go on down the road. Today was the day that we sold our calves. What is the problem you might ask. Well, it is a long story, so let’s begin.

Growing up we had about 150 head of cows. My Grandpa fussed and cared for each one every year. He knew each cow very well. If he didn’t have a name for them he had a characteristic for each one. He would say, “Ya know that one with the ear that has a cut in it” or “that one with the white front to her”. He knew each one so well, that is actually amazed me as a kid. I assumed every person who had cows possessed such abilities. It didn’t take me long to get the feel of it. I noticed the little things about them. The slide of a foot, swish of a tail, who was cake broke and who was about to be. I think one of the saddest things I have ever watched was taking my Grandpa out to feed cows the the Christmas before he died. My Mom pointed out some of his favorites and he just sat and stared at them and didn’t say a word. To this day it breaks me just thinking about it.

Anyway, I inherited his love of cattle. With our herd, we are the same way. We have names for some and characteristics for others. The Stauff really only has numbers for each one. I am usually asking “who is 62? Is that Mavis?”. He usually rolls his eyes at me and says “I don’t know your damn names”. Although, when we are feeding cake I hear him say, “Come on Frosty, come on”. Yea, yea, don’t know names my ass. We have by no means a “herd” of cows. The Stauff and I promised each other 20 years ago that we would never go in debt to have cows. Knock on wood, so far we haven’t. But, with that means we don’t have alot of cows. We have 14. Now, you say, geesh that isn’t alot. You are correct. Although, those 14 still need to be fed, ice chopped in the winter, doctored, calved, branded and in the end, sold.

The circle starts in July turning the bull out. Free love and a long hot summer. Fall comes and the bull says goodbye and the girls turn their full attention to their calf that they had this past spring. Once we feel the calves are a good weight we choose which of the heifers we will keep and all the boys go down the road. The calves that we keep will either build up the numbers or will replace the cows that are going down the road. Either the cow is old, lost a calf, or bat shit crazy and they head to the sale barn.

This year The Stauff and I scrutinized the calves pretty hard. All of our cows are easy going and nice looking cows, so there really isn’t a bad choice. Numbers were written down on which calves would head down the road and which ones were staying with us. Now to the cows. Two cows were pulled.

We have one cow, “Frosty” who is seriously cake broke. You have a couple cubes of cake in your hand and she will walk through the depths of hell with you. She got the name frosty as she has a white circle on her face along with a little white above her eye. She is a great leader of the bunch and if she starts walking the others will follow right behind her. But. The past two years she threw a huge calf that she couldn’t have on her own and by the time we got her in and the calf pulled, the calf was dead. We thought the first year was a fluke. Just something odd that kicked out. This past year, it was the same thing. Another dead calf and my heart broke for her as she is a very good mama cow. The Stauff said we couldn’t do another year.

The next one that was chosen was “BJ”. BJ stands for Bum Junior as her mother was our very first “Bum” we had and probably the best cow we have ever had. BJ lost her first calf and it was also the first calf I lost tending cows. We both took it hard, me, maybe a little more. But the next year she calved in a snow storm on her own and turned out to be just like her mama. One hell of a cow. She turned out some nice calves. Last winter she must have slipped on some ice and she has had issues once in awhile getting around. The Stauff and I decided that we couldn’t watch her this winter, so she would go down the road.

Then, the babies. The babies are the hardest ones. We look at how the mother is, how her feet are, how she is aging, etc. Thinking that if we keep one of their heifers, that is the genetics that we will be dealing with for awhile. The steer calves are a no brainer, they roll on down the road. But his year, there was SteveO.

SteveO was born in a horrible snow storm and had a zero chance at life. His Mother, #03, (the one with crazy flat bangs) was a first time Mom. I watched as she went by the house with snow coming in side ways, while switching her tail. As the wind screamed, I prayed all would go well. She did calve, but the calf wouldn’t get up. She had him in an old huge culvert. It is an ideal place actually. Out of the wind and snow. I would check on them throughout the afternoon, and the calf was still not up. I would try to help it up, but it was a huge calf and there was nothing I was going to do to help. As the night krept in, so did the cold. The calf was shaking cold and wet. The new Mom, clueless as to what she needed to do, stood and watched me. I decided I would have to take it inside or else it would be dead by morning, but how. We had a ton of snow, but I was able to get the four wheeler into the culvert. I grabbed an old bed spread and threw him on top of it. I grabbed rope and tied him up around the bed spread. A make shift sled. I tied it up to the four wheeler and we started to the house. I pulled him right to the basement door using the mounds of snow as a cushion for him to lay on. I drug his half alive body into the warmth of the basement and I laid him right next to the wood stove. The hound started licking on him and I started rubbing him down with towels. I grabbed a bottle and some colostrum. He finally started to drink and was warming up. All through the night the hound and I laid with him. As the sun was stretching into the basement, the calf was stretching and wanting to get up. I tried to steady him as he stood up. Pretty soon he was starting to stand on his own.

Later that day The Stauff would break through the drifts and was able to get home. He helped me take the calf to the barn and brought in his mother. It took the mama a few hours to love up to her calf, but she did. She did just as we figured out the calf had more issues. His front joint were swelled up. A phone call to the vet. More than likely had a infection that came through his umbilical cord. The infection usually effected joints and the brain. A 50/50 shot he would make it. I felt defeated. We started giving him medicine around the clock like the vet instructed. It took about 4 days and he finally started to walk like he should. J and I was watching him one day and J said “I think we call him SteveO, he looks like a SteveO)”. She was right, SteveO it was. After a week of being penned up, we turned them back to the rest of the cows. It wasn’t a month and SteveO came up lame again. He hurt his front hoof somehow, but about 2 weeks later he was running amuck with the other calves. He turned out just fine.

Which leads us to today. Yesterday we got the cows and calves in. We took our little note on who was staying and who was leaving with us. Cows and calves that were staying went to the north pen. The ones that were heading to the sale barn, went to the west pen. I watched SteveO buck around and run. Thinking of the hell he went through. How many times he looked at death straight in the face and somehow managed to pull through. With all the cows sorted, we fed them and let them set for the night. This AM up bright and early to head to down to load. The Stauff backed up the trailer to the corrals. We took the cows to a smaller pen to pull the calves off. The cows sorted easy. They were ready to get out of the corrals. With the calves separated out, gates were swung the other way to push them down the alley to the trailer. The ran down the alley and jumped right into the trailer just like they knew what they were doing.

The Stauff locked up the doors and nodded as he jumped into the pick up to head to the sale barn. I went to grab the pickup to throw hay to the cows. As I was walking to the gate I looked up at the cows. All the cows that were in the pen with me was watching the trailer with their babie in it. As the pickup started to move so did they. They started to walk along side the corral, bawling for them. As the pick up dropped below the meadow, the bawling got louder, they turned and ran to the furthest pen still watching, still bawling. I grabbed my pitch fork and started to pitch hay to them, with hot tears rolling down my cheeks. SteveO’s Mom just stood there in the pen watching until the only thing left was the dust settling back to the ground. She came back to the rest of the cows who were busy munching on the hay. I made myself busy pitching more hay. #03 walked up the fence and just stood there looking at me. I glanced up at her and here eyes were set on me. Hot tears mixed with hay flakes as they rolled down my cheek. “Don’t look at me” I told her. I stood there moving hay around until she relented and started to eat. I got in the cold pick up and went home. I fixed a hot tea as I wiped my tear/hay streaked face. I stared at the window and muttered “this shit isn’t for the weak”.

And, that is how life on the ranch makes a full circle. There are days when you want to sell them all and days that you want to keep them all. I have called them a few names over the year, sometimes it was a “you son of a bitch”. But, it was done with all love. The care we give them, the prayers we say over them as a storm rolls in all comes to this day. A full circle, just as we get ready for calving season this spring to start it all over again.

Sheep herder stand

A “Challenging Day”

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Today was… let’s say… “challenging”.. from the moment I arose till the very bitter end. As five bells tolled on my heart claiming the end of the day, I felt a tug on my collar to go to the south pasture. The south pasture has always been my favorite place on the ranch. So much history of wagons, Indians, dinosaurs and last but not least my 3 generations before me. There is a sheep herder stand that fell over years ago.. My Grandpa would tell stories of how sheep herders would build these rock stands during the day while their sheep would graze and it would give them a place to sit later on to watch them. We have a handful on them scattered across the ranch that have been standing against the elements of mother nature for well over 100 years. This one rock pile is the only one I have ever saw that had fallen over. Why? I have no idea. The rock pile was close to the road and every time I would drive by it, for some reason, I would always feel bad for it. The kids and I would always say we would put it back one day… I decided today would be the day.

Mid October in Wyoming means one thing, the weather is getting cooler. I grabbed a sweatshirt, some gloves, my hound and I headed out. I bounced down the rough dirt road dodging water wash outs. As I drove up to the top of our ridge I prayed all the way that no snakes were hiding amongst the rocks. Surely they were chilled by now?? As I walked to my pile of rocks I studied my task.. hmm.. had their been 2 that fell over? Crazy.. All these years I assumed there was just one. Well, by the size of some of the rocks, there would probably be only one after today..

I started grabbing rocks, then grabbing smaller rocks to stabilize each layer, then added another layer and so on. I pushed down hard on each level. I made sure that there wasn’t a weak spot or a lone wobbly rock that would bring down the whole stack. It wasn’t long until I had run out of big rocks. I started grabbing little rocks filling in hanging ledges for extra support. Luckily, there was no sign of snakes.. whew.. When I had started grabbing rocks, I glanced up at the existing stack. Something strange caught my eye. Nestled very delicately inside of the intricately stacked rocks was a beautful feather. There had been a little bird nest in the pile of rocks, so I rebuilt the new stack with a south facing opening to their little hole with coverage on both sides and a tight north wall. Some bird would appreciate me someday.

I threw my sweatshirt on the dry, krinkly sod and sat down to admire my work. My hound joined me taking it all in. I laughed out loud knowing 3 generations were probably looking down with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow asking exactly what in the hell did I build. As I laughed, I whispered into the breeze, “hush, I did good for my first one”. Ha..

I threw my head to the heavens smiling and the sky caught my eye.. Dusk in the fall meant it was about time to get really pretty. I sat there and took a million pictures with my phone as the colors changed every second it seemed. Blues, to creams, to pinks to oranges and a hundred other colors that I wish crayola could create.

Pretty soon I heard some elk start bugling for their pals, then some coyotes joined in on down in the deep depths of the draws..I laid down on the sod to stare into the sky. The breeze drifted through the cedars standing solidly beside me sending a sweet cedar smell racing through my soul. The trees stood tall in the approching shadows protecting my little sheep herder stand. I looked beside me and saw a plant that looked like the one I have been trying to keep alive in my house, which also made me laugh.. all be damned.. I have tried and tried to get that bastard to live and here it’s pals are surviving in the midst of a prairie. They should take lessons from their pioneer friends. My hound and I got up to leave just as the moon snuck out to see us home. At home I looked at my hound and said, “well, I guess some days just suck”. Thankful for a tug on the collar that led me out and said, “See? It isn’t all bad.” But if that sheep herder stand falls over I will be pissed..

A feather of another

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

I have always believed that our lives could easily be divided up into chapters. The baby years, toddler years, adolescent years, teenage years, dumb ass years, you get it. Just like a photo album recording our life. As with any good book, there are chapters you laugh at, some that you sigh at, some you sob through and some you skip cause sometimes it just hurts a little too much to read. About this time last year I was in a skip chapter.

The reason for the skip is still something that brings me to my knees so I try to not dredge it up. What I bring up every day is what brought me through it. It was something amazing, somewhat unbelieveable and something that I will take to my grave as the honest truth. As the quote of my life says, “I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried”.

As many of you know, my hound and I are by ourselves during the week. Both kids are out living their best life and The Stauff works away from the ranch during the week so we can afford the ranch. As the story goes, “With every good rancher, is a spouse that has another job to keep the ranch going”. In The Stauff World, we both have jobs to keep it going.

I had ventured into this space that most would call “rock bottom”. I would stare out across our meadow asking the winds a million questions. In the depths of the quite I never heard an answer to my plea’s. This one night. I collapsed on our couch. I grabbed my phone and flipped to what everyone flips to when they want to kill time and crawl down rabbit holes, Tik Tok. I flip through my page watching all the videos of people happy and laughing and throwing jokes freely. Then, one came up that said to stop. It peaked my interest. I listened to what this soul had to say. It said, “If you are watching this, this is meant for you. You need to watch the whole video. I never tag anything on my posts, so if this found you, you were meant to hear this”. I rolled my eyes, “Geezus H.. What people will do anymore”. But I kept on listening. What would it hurt.

She said, “You are feeling like you are at the end. You don’t know how or why you are going to continue. You have been battling hard the last few years and you feel like giving up. You don’t see anything ever getting better and you feel like no one cares”. “Hmmm”… I thought, “She is actually pretty spot on”. I was getting drawn in. She says, “Find a quite spot”. I was thinking “Welp, I am 60 miles from the nearest town and it is just me and the hound. No better place I guess”. She says, “Your spirit guides are always with you. You just need to ask them to give you a sign that they are there helping you”. She went on about how I needed to repeat after her for a sign from my spirit guides that they were there and they were helping me. Part of me was like ehhh.. bullshit.. but again.. my knees were hurting from hitting them so much praying for help that I would try anything. So I repeated everything she said, opened my eyes, nothing standing or sitting beside me waving, jumping up and down. I scoffed at my little test and kept wandering down the rabbit hole of other people’s happiness. I finally gave up and said “at least my bed would welcome me”.

I fell asleep and woke to a bright sun dripping light across my face. I got up and started my normal morning ritual. Getting myself ready for work. I tiptoed through the shower, scrubbed up my face and brushed my teeth. Tossed some oil to my mane so it wouldn’t swell and look like a puff ball. I wandered out into the living room to turn on my XM radio. I pressed the little button and went to turn to grab my tea. My brain made my heel turn on a dime and spin back to my XM radio. I stared at the ledge where my radio sat. My radio sits on our picture window ledge, which is right next to the couch where I was the night before going through my Tik Toks.

Scattered all over the ledge was tiny gray and white feathers. They were very delicate and actually the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My first reaction was, “How in the hell did a bird get in the house last night?”. I looked around my book case beside it.. nothing.. I glanced at the hound who was watching me wondering what in the hell I was doing. “DUDE”, I shouted, “what the hell happened? you are a bird dog.. where is the bird?”.. She just stared at me.. hmm.. I thought, so random. Thinking back, maybe she knew more about these feathers than I ever will. I started back to make my tea and I thought about the night before. About asking for a sign.. and I froze. I spun back around and stared at the feathers. I sat down on the couch and stared at the feathers until they were burned into my memory. I tried to process what was going on, but words and thoughts escaped me. Could it be? Naw.. no way. But… what if?

I got up to get my tea and head to the office to work. I stumbled through work and every once in awhile I would lean back in my chair and stare out into the living room. I shook my head. Craziness. Besides, there isn’t anyone that is going to believe this shit. They were just so darn pretty though. I got up to go look at them again. I went to the sill and I noticed that alot of them were gone. My mind raced, “No”, I said, “come back”, with hot tears starting to roll down my face. I stopped myself and put my hand over my mouth. What was a I saying? “Geezus I am damn certifiable” I whispered to the remaining feathers. I searched all over for the feathers. I could only find about 5 left with what seemed like a dozen or more when I first saw them. I grabbed one of my glass bottles that had a glass topper in it. I gently laid the remaining feathers into the bottle and placed the topper on it. I placed it by my kitchen sink on the window sill so I could look at it every day. No ideas on where the others went.

A few days later I was walking in our south pasture with the hound. I started to think about my feathers, the Tik Tok, and what had happened. As I walked down through one of my Grandfathers old homesteads I again asked for a sign that my spirit guides were close by and helping me. I closed my eyes and talked to the wind as it swirled around me. I opened my eyes slowly and walked about 4 steps. On the ground in front of me was a perfect white feather. Nothing else around. Just one, perfect white feather. I picked it up and put it into my pocket. When I got home I gently put it with my other feathers in my little glass bottle.

Over the days, weeks and months I would go somewhere and in a very random spot would be a white and gray feather. I would always gather them and thank the peace that surrounded me for the sign. I was telling my friend about this whole crazy story and in the end he looked at me and said, “There ya go, you have been thinking about getting another tattoo. Get the first feathers you found tattooed so you will always have them”. A light bulb went off in my small brain. I would indeed.

I was telling my best pal about my encounter with the feathers. She wondered if they actually meant anything. We Googled it and what we found made us ponder more. We found one that said it meant that a loved one who has passed is close to me. Some said that it meant that they are a reminder to not lose faith. While some said overwhelmingly it meant to hold on because there was spirit guides beside you helping you every step. They all hit home and hit hard. I knew that I had come across all these feathers for a reason.

After finding the perfect tattoo artist that said she could make the feathers look like 3D on my arm, I made an appointment. My best pal went with me to get another one on her as well. I ended up getting 3 of the feathers on the inside of my arm. One for my spirt guides, one for my Dad and one for my grandparents. I have no clue who was really there helping me get through, but I figured I better cover all my bases. lol. I will tell you though, everytime I look at my arm, I am comforted cause I know that there is someone or something out there helping me through all this crazy bullshit they call life.

Is it real? Who knows. It isn’t my spot to say either way. There will be a day I will ask, but for now, it doesn’t really matter if it is real or not. I know for a fact that it saved me. It helped me get off my knees and stand. It helped me breathe and to smile. In the end, that is all I really wanted. The kicker? I just found one tonight in a pile of rocks. Protected from the elements, sitting patiently waiting for me to find it. Then, as it watched me, I smiled, stared at the sky with tears streaming down thanking the peace in the wind for yet another sign.

When your sis just wants to chat

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

October is for scary stories.. Let’s go.. A flashback to another year…

Only in a Stauff life…so most people know our town house is haunted…we have made “friends” with whatever lives with us and all has been well…so last night about 11:30 Wyatt comes in my bedroom and yells “mom!!” As a phone flashlight is flung in my face. I am shocked and scared out of a semi deep sleep. Squinting at the spot light I say “geezus. What the hell is wrong, you scared the hell out of me!” He is spinning a story 100 miles an hour..”Well. You know when you get that feeling that there is someone in your room? Well I had that and I thought it was you. I said “mom, is that you?” And it ended up being J. I asked her what she was doing and she said dad told her to come into my room Then she sat down on my bed. I asked her when did Dad say that? She said last week. Mom I was so freaked out I pulled my feet up to ease away from her. I shined my light at her and she was just sitting there staring at the wall.” I am laughing so hard by now…part of me was secretly proud of his flashlight skills…I asked him where she was. He says “up there I guess, I told her I had to go get a drink of water, and I RAN down here. Something isn’t right with her” I told him, “she is talking in her sleep, you know she gets that way” he says.”Mom this is frickin freaky you have to come check on her”.. I say “Magee, come on, she does this when she gets tired” . He says, “uh yea, she has never gotten up and walked into my room and talked to me”… he had a point…I tell him, “true, but just go back to your bed”, I get a flashlight stare…so I go upstairs to see if J’s head is making circles..she is back in bed looking like she is sleeping.. I whisper “J” she says “uhhuh” , I say “whatcha doing?”, She says “I don’t know”, I say “go back to bed”, she says “ok”..I look at Magee “all is well chief, go to bed”. He stares at me “yea right, I get the crap scared out of me and I am supposed to go back to bed” . I am on my knees laughing…”Get some sleep tonight!”. It took about 15 mins to convince him to go to bed… I finally let him be and go back to my bed. all curled up, then I got that feeling someone is there…I looked up and there is Magee with his phone flashlight..looking for a blanket..camping on the couch. I asked him… “so…couldn’t do it huh”…he says a matter of factly… “nope…I am sleeping on the couch” I giggled my way to sleep…while repeating the Lord’s Prayer..😜 this am J comes stumbling downstairs rubbing her eyes.. she says “Why is Magee on the couch?” I laughed “he was afraid that we were living the conjuring last night and your head was spinning.” She looked at me and says, “hmm, I thought that was a dream”. Ummm what?

TIs time to say goodbye to the garden

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

There are days when I am sooo glad I live where I do. Tonight being one.. since it is trespass season, oh I mean hunting season, I took a spin around the ranch to take a looksy. I get way over south and I notice the sky getting pretty. I drive to turn around and got a ton of super pretty pictures of a dying sunset. Listening to the radio, I hear the dj say, “have to cover up my garden tonight since it was supposed to freeze tonight’. I spun my head, “shit”, I say.. “I forgot to pick the garden, blasted”. I adjusted my broom and flew down the road, knowing that since I got lost in this sunset it would be dark when I got home. I pull up to the house and indeed it was just dark. I grab a flashlight and a bucket and head to the garden. Now, keep in mind, I have flip-flops over my socks and wind pants on.. I go to grabbing tomatoes, green and red and somewhere in between. On to the peppers.. my bucket is officially full. My watering program had watered at 5.. so as I was sinking around tomato plants, I feel cold water seeping into my socks. “Ahh fugg it”.. I look at the zucchini plant.. sure as hell, I have missed a handful.. ripping stems and more water and mud soaking into my socks. I am planning this haul in my head…(you may ask why I didn’t split at this point and go get another bucket.. yea I have no idea..) tomatoes are good and then I spied a few more.. damn it.. I start filling my pockets.. as I spun around I noticed all of my perky broccoli that is currently loving the cooler weather.. ahh shit.. so I go hacking on the broccoli.. no room in the bucket.. I start packing my pockets again with broccoli. At this point I have broccoli leaves peaking out of my pocket.. I take a final gander.. ahh I called it.. I stacked all my zucchini in my arms like a haul of wood. I carefully lean down and grab my bucket.. one tomato falls out.. “damn it”.. I carefully bend down grab it and put it back in the bucket. The closest way out of the garden is through a mud puddle.. at this point I say.. “fugg it” and I splish splash through. I get to the gate and I used my mud dripping flip flop to push the gate open. My flip flop gets stuck in the wire as I started to tip over. I catch myself just as I hear a sprig of broccoli fall out of my pocket. “Ahh, geezus H.. hold on soldier, we are all going home”. I leaned down, picked up my broccoli, stuffed it back in my pocket and slipped through the gate. My eyes set on the house, a shaky flashlight shining to the stars itself… now.. since the garden got watered at 5, all this shit is still wet. The broccoli and tomatoes are soaking through my wind pants and undies. At this point I give no cares. It is what it is. I get about half way to the house and I feel my wind pants starting to slide. I look at the hound. “I would literally give you anything about now if you could give me a hand and pull my britches up”.. she just kept walking with me, encouraging me.. I went into stealth mode and made my steps wider and slower. I made it to our sidewalk and whoosh! One lone zucchini breaks free of my arms and hits the wedge of the sidewalk and busts open.. I look down and my damn wind pants were at my ankles along with my broccoli and extra tomatoes.. I walked to the front door with said shit around my ankles.. I laid my goods on the front step and pulled my soggy pants back up.. I told Magee of my mission.. he laughed and said well good thing we live where we do. Exactly my son, exactly.. so.. me in dry clothes, chopped up my split zucchini and a handful of other veggies and made supper… I bet those damn raccoons were eating popcorn watching my show tonight..and just watch.. it won’t freeze tonight… 🫣

A gesture to kill

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Craziness at the homestead.. getting lunch today, I tell Magee to go get The Stauff for lunch from the wood shop. He jumps into the pickup and heads out… I am finishing up getting everything ready when J hollers, “COYOTE, get the gun Mom”. I spun around to gander out the window..sure enough… a coyote standing across the creek… broadside… my heart raced… gun gun gun… shit…the boys have the guns with them. I tell her “text your brother to get back now”. Of all the times he doesn’t check his damn phone..this is one…we watch the coyote sniff around and wonder around.. still broad side… I am dying…we look out the other window… finally here they come putzing home. They pull up in front of the house while J and I are standing in the doorway creating hand signals to let them know a coyote is near.. they cocked their head a few times at us.. I mumble..🤬 as they sat there staring at us.. 🤪 they finally opened a door and I used my arms and hands to point directly behind them and I said a little louder, “there is a coyote over by the creek”.. and I 🤫quietly shut the door and smiled at them. They looked at each other with a raised eyebrow.. J says, “I don’t think they believe us”. I shooed my hand to them and they grabbed their guns and turned around. The coyote popped up into a little knoll. They both hit the ground quickly and attack mode was set into place. Magee got to the garbage cans and laid his sites on him. Pinker and I were in the kitchen watching it all go down.. all of a sudden something black darts towards the coyote. Pinker says, “yo, is that another coyote?”.. I studied the new object that entered into the picture. “Holy shit! That is a badger running after it”. The coyote is looking back at the badger and “boom”. Magee fires off the lethal shot.. the coyote falls over the hill..the badger looks around, turns and runs his ass off back to his hole. I can only imagine what was going through his mind and I died laughing. When The Stauff got in he looked at me and laughed, “I couldn’t imagine what in the hell you were doing”.. ahh life on the ranch.. never a dull moment.

A half thought or just a half of M&M..

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

The Stauff’s conversation.. coming home from Spearfish the other day I pull the corner off of a bag of shareable M&M’s. But, let’s be honest, there is no sharing a bag of peanut M&M’s unless it is like a pound. Anyway, after ripping off the corner I eyeballed the contents. Lying on the top of the sea of color was a naked peanut. Not just naked, a half of a naked peanut.. my mind instantly starts pondering why and how a lone, naked half of peanut lands in my sack.. I ask The Stauff, “how does this happen”. I get a “what?”. I explained how I got a lone half of a naked peanut.. I say, “I don’t think I have ever eaten a half of a peanut M&M. Do you think they have checks?” I got a raised eyebrow from The Stauff.. “hear me out.. so if it is just a half it falls through a different slot and becomes another type of candy”. The Stauff says, “I have eaten a peanut M&M before that has had no peanut in it”. I say “well yea yea.. but have you ever had one with a half of a peanut?”. He says, “well how did your lone half naked peanut get in the sack then if it had a secret slot to fall in?”. I say, “maybe it was on its side and slipped through?”. He says “go through your sack and crack each one to see if there is a half”. I think to myself “challenge accepted pal”.. so I go through the sack eyeballing each one. I grabbed one we were 100% was half, nope it was just a fugly peanut.. we continue on guessing if it is full or half.. cracking the coat delicately, everyone had a complete peanut. He says, “I still don’t think there is a secret slot for halfs”. I put the sack down and we finish our drive.. at home I grab the sack again and look at him and say, “I legit think there is a secret slot for halves.” He says, “you are probably right”… good hubby there.. hahaha.. I would say he gave me 3/4 of my white hair, he would say I made all of his turn white and fall out. I say 25 years went by quick.. he would say it is only 25 years? People ask us how we met and I always say you want the real story or the one we told the Catholic Father? Ha.. in the end it all started with a beer.. to the guy that stole my heart with his Tom Cruise smile 25 years ago, happy anniversary..