307 – Only in a Stauff world

I wear a lot of hats. I have the real job that helps pay the bills, that seems like I juggle about 5 hats in itself. I have one that takes care of the ranch. I have one that takes care of Paleo. I have a few others that fill in the time during the week. Only 1 pays and they are all brought on by yours truly. Purely not complaining, just saying, the kid is busy. Someone asked me today what I will do on my time off. “Time off”.. hmm novel concept, but I don’t really have time off, I have a time where I change hats. Sadly, it just seems like I just keep adding to the plate. Writing is my only escape from it all and at times even it feels like a job. I have to write stuff out or it just sits in my brain, swirling, until it projects into my Mac. Even with all my jobs, I am fiercely protective of all of them. Which leads me to today…

I have been busy booking stays at the lodge for the past few months. Trying to get my niche figured out for Paleo. Breathing new life into an old concept, or maybe just redefining the original concept. Either way working every angle. I have molded it, dreamt it, and prayed on it for a while. I had a guy call about a month ago to come stay. I am going to refer to him as “Cat”, cause he was some type of cat and I want to keep this cleaner than the name I really want to call him. Cat texted me to reserve the lodge in July for a week and wanting to talk. I at first was like, “cool, this is getting SO exciting”. I immediately texted back and said, “Yes, would be happy to talk about Paleo”. Then he ghosted me until Easter Sunday. He texts, “Can we talk today?”. I raised an eyebrow and thought, “Pal… My family is here and we are all enjoying each other, so I am going to say I didn’t see the text. You can wait till tomorrow”. Which I did. I texted him the next day and said, “Hey, I apologize I didn’t visit with you yesterday, being it was Easter, my family and I were doing some stuff. Available today”, and I gave him a handful of times to reach out. He went back and forth on the time and we finally settled on a time.

He called me a few minutes after the time. It is fine, whatever. He starts out with explaining what is going on in his life. I am blankly staring at my wall wondering WTH I was doing. He then tells me the dates he is coming.

I interjected, “What are you going to be doing?”.

He stopped like I had just asked for his blood type.

He said, “well, digging dinosaurs”.

I thought, “Come again?”.

I said, “oh, interesting, where are you digging at?”.

He scoffed at me and said, “well at your ranch! Don’t you have things to dig?”.

I said, “actually no, we don’t.”

You could tell he was getting edgy, but I was as well.

He said, “well, don’t you have a microsite?”.

I said, “yea, but you are not going to sit on it for week. That is just a spot to go and look and sit for maybe an hour and move on”.

He stammered. “Well, what about the stuff we find? Can we keep it?”.

My blood pressure was starting to spike. I thought, “Pal, we have a website that covers all of this. Obviously you didn’t check it out”. I was taken aback thinking, he isn’t even going to ask what we offer? He is just telling me what he is going to do?

I said, “well, if you are on private land owned by us, it is our property, so, no, you get what we allow”.

Then he proceeded to complain about my price to stay at the lodge.

I stood firm and at this point I was hoping he was getting the vibe that this might not be the place to go.

He ended the conversation with, “I will have to talk to the rest of my group and get back to you”.

“Perfect”, I said. I thought, “there ain’t no way in hell, that boy is calling back”.

Sure enough, he ghosted me, until yesterday.

Two weeks had passed since our conversation. He texts completely out of the blue. He had talked to most of the group and they were good. He needed our address and wondered how to put down a deposit. I blankly stared at the phone. I drew in a long deep breathe, “is this cat for real?”. He literally tells me what he is going to do on our ranch, has no plan while he is here and then thinks he can ghost me?”. I immediately shot back with, “so your group is good to have nothing to dig on? Your group is good to not stay on the microsite?”. I waited…. and I waited. I got grumpier.. I kept rolling it in my brain, “Who does this cat think he is?”. I continued to spin it around in my brain for a day, still nothing back from him.

I woke up this AM at my witching hour of 3 AM. Front and center in my brain was this cat. I tried getting back to sleep, I tossed and turned and tossed some more. I got up, got a drink of water, still rolling in my brain what all he had said to me and his actions afterwards. Daylight finally broke and I saw rays of sun gripping the landscape waking it up. I got my warm clothes on to go run around the cows to check for new calves. There was a thick layer of frost on everything. A heavy bank of fog was slowly fading into the creek channel. I jumped on my 4 wheeler and buzzed through the cows, grabbing my magical number. (#12 is still standing strong watching me, and me watching her). I snaked up onto a tall hill where some yearlings were so I could get a count on the cows below. I shut off the 4 wheeler and started counting. The yearlings all wandered up to me and had their heads right next to me. I quit counting and looked at the sweet babies next to me. Wide eyes with long eye lashes studying me. Were they probably looking for a treat? Yes, most likely, but they sure loved on me for a bit. I looked around me at the beauty of the morning. The frost slowly melting into the thirsty earth. The fog bank had almost all disappeared. The blues and yellows of the early morning made me wish for the crayon box God himself gets to use. It was still, it was peaceful and it made me understand my cat.

Looking at those cows and the land made be realize the depth of a being the 4th generation on a family ranch. I thought about my Great Grandmother roaming the same ground as I did. I looked at the yearlings beside me. I said, “What do you think Great Grandma would do with this cat? Would she turn Great Grandpa loose on him?”. I laughed as I turned my head and I locked eyes with one yearling. I quickly looked away and then slowly looked back at her. She was staring right at me. I looked right into her shimmering eyes. Goofy, I know, but it was like that damn yearling looked right into my heart. I say that, cause everything became clear about my cat at that point. I looked around the ranch and said, “yea, it is a privilege to be here not a right”. I got another quick count on the cows and zoomed back to the house. I grabbed my phone and sent a text back to the cat, “I feel like our visions are not the same, thus I am canceling your time at the lodge. I wish you the best of luck in finding a new place to dig”. I threw the phone to my bed beside my 2 hounds and took a long hot shower. Question of the day, did he ever respond? Nope…

Protective? Yes, absolutely. I had a neighbor once that said her mother in law told her when she moved out here that she lived in a palace upon a kingdom and to never forget it. I get that. Is our place a destination? Nope. Is there lush green meadows everywhere? Double nope. Is it a place that holds me? Yep. Is it a place I know like the back of my hand? Yep. Do I make 3 generations proud knowing that I am protecting the ranch? The same one that they busted their asses to keep? Gosh, I pray that I do, cause it crosses my mind a lot. I love this hat that I wear, it is probably my favorite. A privilege, not a right. I think that is my new slogan to folks wanting to sneak a peak at my way life. Maybe I should make some T-shirts with that saying on them for the shop at the lodge. Maybe I will send that cat one… LOL.

Ahh April.. April on the ranch means one thing to me.. Calving season is upon us. Will we get snow one day and 80 degree weather the next? High possibility. Will the heifers know what to do with their new bundle of joy? We hope so. Will I end of cussing one, or multiples telling them how GA DAMN stupid they are.. High probability. But, at the end of the day, will I thank God for helping me get through the day? Every day.

Since The Stauff works away from the ranch during the week, I am head chief. Scary, trust me, I know. My nerves that attach to my stomach get uneasy about February just thinking about the upcoming season. Steady breathing into a paper sack and thinking that indeed the day we turn the bull out with the cows will be devine. Just a few months of WTF was that, sleepless nights, frozen hands, tears (always is) and who knows what else. When The Stauff gets home, he runs through his calving book and matches it up to my notes from week. I guarantee he does this when I text what number has calved during the week, but, I think it makes him feel good knowing we are on the same page. He likes to know which cow calved on what day, etc. He is in charge of tagging the calves when he arrives on the homestead. He has the 4 wheeler tricked out with a hook mounted on it, so when the time arises, he is locked and loaded. He usually leaves bright and early in the morning while I am “looking” like I am sleeping. Sometimes I really am and he scares the shit out of me when he comes tromping back in. I always give him the “Well? Anything new? Did you get your calves tagged?”. Then he gives me the low down. This last week I sent him verification the #12 calved. I started carrying my phone with me and I would just grab a picture of the new momma and send to him. Mainly, so his questions of “is the calf up? the mother ok? She cleaned off?” are all answered in one quick pic. I saw her up against a hill as some other cows wandered past her. As I pulled up on the 4 wheeler I saw a little black head bobbing behind her. “Shit” I said, “you calved”. Calf was up and sucking, mother was fine, but a little pissed I was lingering snapping pictures. I say to myself, “12 right?” She was too busy tending to her calf to give me a portrait picture. She finally swung her head up and I honestly thought she was coming over to “visit” with me. I snapped the picture and told her to ease up, I would leave. I drove off pondering, “that was a 12 right?”. I stopped, zoomed in on the picture and was like “Hmm, has to be”. I journey on counting out my magical number and making sure no one had anything suspicious hanging out of their back side.

I get home and I do my daily check in with The Stauff. I send him the picture and caption it with, “You have another to tag this weekend”. He responded back with, “#12?” I was like “Ok, he agrees”. I type back, “indeed. She was a little fiesty. Reminds me of #11. Good mother, but damn, don’t get in between them”. He types back, “great”. I made my notation in my little book and went about my day.

Friday evening comes and The Stauff rolls into the house. He grabs the sack of ear tags and starts writing out his numbers he needs to go get them tagged. I tell him, “well, for sure #11, #12 and Big Bessie will have a target on your ass as soon as they see you”. He says, “I know, I will see what I can get done.

He comes back and says, “Well, I got #11 and #01. I was thankful I had the 4 wheeler between me and Big Bessie though. She was blowing steam onto the 4 wheeler seat looking over it at seeing what I was doing to her calf. I couldn’t find #12 though. She must have it hid out”. I was impressed. The man is actually so good at that. I don’t know why I even wonder if he could get them tagged.

We check cows 3 to 4 times a day. We just run through them, get a head count, and make sure all is well on the prairie. Every time The Stauff would go out, he would come back and say, “No luck. She just won’t bring her calf out. But she has no care in the world; she just watches me as I drive around.” This went on Friday night, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday. Sunday morning, after his early morning run, he comes back and asks, “Are you sure she calved?” I say, “Dude, the picture looks like #12, doesn’t it?” He grins and says, “I am just teasing; I am pretty sure I saw her walking off with a calf Friday night when I got home anyway.” Later that afternoon, when he was getting ready to leave, he says, “Maybe you can find her damn calf this week. Don’t worry about tagging it; we can always tag it when we brand.” I took the comment as a challenge. “Aye Aye, Captain,” I said, grinning. After he left, I went on my mission. I found #12 standing with the other new mommas, and legit, there was no calf nearby. I drove around the sagebrush watching her, waiting for her to get nervous and come grab her calf and take off… Nothing happened. She played it cool as a cucumber. Monday comes, and again, I find #12 and start to scan the area for a ball of black fur. Nothing… I check again at noon and again that night. Worry came over me, and I thought, “God damn, what if something happened to her calf? What if it died?” The rational part of me said, “If that calf died, she would be standing right beside it, bellowing to it, and I would cry.” I took a deep breath, admitted defeat, and went home. I got home and pulled up the picture again. It had to be a #12. As I zoomed in, doubt crossed my mind, and I gasped, “Shit, is that a #11?” I closed my eyes and dialed up The Stauff. He was like, “Yessss.” I said, “Hey, so do you think #12 really calved?” He sat there for a moment and said, “You said it was #12.” I said, “I said no such thing. I sent you a picture, and you asked if it was #12. I merely agreed. Doesn’t that picture look like a #12?” He said, “Blow it up.” I blew it up, and it started to blur more. I let out a big sigh and said, “Dude, I don’t know. Maybe it was #11. I guess we will see if she calves again.” Then I burst out laughing. He didn’t see the humor that I saw, but it was funny. Just thinking of The Stauff hunting this ghost calf, cursing his mother for hiding it out all weekend, and then realizing that she might be hiding it in her stomach still. It was too much.

Last night when I made my nightly rounds I had predicted that #04 was going to calve by morning. She had that far away look in her eye and she was looking for some alone time. This AM when I shot around the cows I went to the area I had last saw #04 first. Sure enough, a new baby lay beside her. I drove over to her and walked down close. I made damn sure I had the number. #04, check, baby, check, 4.28.26, check. I went about my business finding the other ladies. All accounted for and I headed back to the house to warm up. I texted The Stauff, #04 calved. I forgot my phone, so I didn’t have hard proof, but I thought I had hard proof with #12 or #11 and look where I am today. He texted back, “What an eye!”. It could have been because I was cold, or maybe because it was early, but I didn’t see the humor that he had found. Then when I didn’t text back, he realized that I must not have saw the humor either, and he changed the subject to the weather.

So, here we sit. I circled #12 tonight as she was out enjoying the sun and munching on grass. I stopped and we chatted. “well, well, did you calve or not old girl?”. She kept staring at me. I said “Am I losing my mind?”. She stopped chewing. I laughed and said “I take that as a yes”. Stay tuned to see. Will she calve or has she already calved, THAT is the question and with the prices right now, that is about a $1500.00 question. Plus side.. We are over half done with them.. then we have to brand..HAHAHAHAHA..

Tag: 307

Come again?

Understanding Calving: A Rancher’s Journey