Tag: homestead

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.

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… 🫣

Round 1 of 2023

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Round 1 in the books.. the meeting.. this am about 3:00 the hound did her usual shake of her collar as a wake up to let her out.. half asleep, rubbing my eyes I stumbled to the door. I flipped the light on as I know theses creatures are out there and give it a few seconds.. a routine that I do every night. Then I slowly open the door.. scan the area and then allow the hound out. I did the same last night.. I see no masked creatures lurking so I flung the door open to release the hound. In about 2.5 seconds about 8 raccoons peaked out behind bushes and chairs. I shouted foul words and the hound launched out the door. She didn’t know which way to run as the fur balls were running every which way. I spotted the mother standing at the end of the sidewalk with a little one as if she was squaring me down.. I glanced around for the hound. Her hair is standing on end on her ass like a Little kids Mohawk.. she comes flying by me barking a storm and spun on a heel when she saw the momma.. she takes in after her. Me screaming at the hound to retreat, cause I mean come on, she is a lap dog. She would have zero clue in that situation.. no luck.. me, barefoot and tshirt jump out and start running over to capture the hound..the mama coon is holding her ground on top of a chair growling and swatting.. all I could think of was, “well shit, guess I get to go see my favorite vet tomorrow as that bitch is going to tear into that hound.” The Hound dives in at her and the mama coon jumps at her growling and I about passed out. She runs off between the pickups and for whatever reason the hound must have thought she ran off so she spins again and runs back to the yard. I look at the mama coon still standing between the pickups. Staring me down as I hear her family trying to crawl out of pickup beds and off of cabs. I say, “wtf you looking at?” And.. then.. that bitch threw hands at me and ran off. My mouth dropped and my blood boiled. “you seriously just threw hands at me? What a bitch”. So I turn back to the hound still acting like she is on crack losing what is left of her mind. I grab her collar, “get in killer, we done”. So we head back to bed. I thought she jumped back onto bed as she normally does. I hooked a right to get a drink of water to calm the nerves before I shot back to bed. Lights out, I start walking, then I step on the hounds back leg, then jump to step on her side, jump off and fell into the side of the bed. I grumbled and cussed all the way to the floor. I end up on top of the hound. “Wtf are you doing on the floor? Geezus H Christ all mighty”. So I picked myself up off the hound and crawled in from the bottom of the bed. The damn hound growled all night.. and now.. door open is barking her fool head off. Traps will be out tonight.. no bitch gets to throw hands like that and walk away unscathed.. or does she… hahaha..

A late night of chase

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Had a request for a ranch story.. here ya go..

Last night I didn’t get home till about 10:30.. long day of everything.. ahh homebound finally… I drive past the corrals heading to our house and notice the bovines are all camped around the corrals… now this isn’t unusal…but… this summer those damn calves have tested us… so… I decide to run through the yard to just make sure all is well. XM in Black Betty is blasting 80’s on 8…all looks well until I make the turn pointing the lights into another pen..lots of little eyes staring back at me. What the.. what the hell.. I studied the situation. Mamas all camped outside of the corrals and damn near all the babies inside the corrals. How? I squinted and stared. I instinctively get out to see what I can do.. in the glow of Black Betty’s lights. Bawling bovines cover up Rick Springsteen blaring out of Black Betty. I step out onto the ground and my flip flops slide into the mud from a fresh rain. My nice dress pants soaking up the water. Frig… the cows blinded by the lights see my shadow in front of them that now looks about 200 feet high in front of them. They all jump up and come at me. tails in the air. Shit. I should have rethought this… but… all cows now out of the way and me unscathed… but, needless to say all the calves also turned tail and ran the other way. Rewind to this summer The Stauff decided to rebuild a wall in our corrals… the one that leads out to our meadow… long story short the welder died so we are regrouping and no finished fence yet. This pen is the same pen all the calves ran to. So, me in my flip-flops go tromping through the weeds searching for these little bastards. As I get further away from the lights my brain says.. “hey, you suppose snakes are out?”. Every ounce of my being froze. Oh my geezus I thought, what the hell am I doing. My other part of my brain tossed it aside and said “walk taller”. Whatever..So I did. I slowly walked in praying that the calves were still around. I saw a few shadows making rounds. I softly haw’ed them..until I knew I was behind them, then the haw got louder. pretty soon they spun on a heel and took off to their mamas.. I looked around.. nothing more lurking. Whoop.. I was ecstatic that A) the calves got out and B) I hadn’t been bitten by a snake yet. So I go back to the first pen. I glance up at the light beams blinding me.. At the same time one of the mama’s starts coming towards me on a mission. Now she looked 200 feet to me. I haw’ed and threw hands the best I could and she just stood there looking at me. I looked at her and figured out she was missing her child still… I say, “look.. I will go look again.. but that sum bitch could be in the meadow in which case you two will catch up tomorrow”. I haw’d her back far enough I could run check the pen without her coming after me and then her getting into the meadow..I was in stealth mode.. nothing.. fuuuuggggg.. something caught my eye in another pen. Ahaha.. I looked back at mama and made a run for the calf.. we squared off in an accompanying pen.. SteveO.. now this is the wild child that was in the basement with me when he was born.. all grown up and this little bastard gives zero shits.. he will get into trouble just cause he can.. so again.. real slow and I walk him out of the pen and into the pen open to the meadow.. he sees his mama and kicks his feet and blows out. I finally get back to Black Betty with mud covering me.. mud splatterd on my face from the calves flying past me.. I shut all the gates and listen to nothing. Calves are all sucking getting a late supper and cows are content. I hollered at them, “you are all welcome”.. now to get all the mud, cow shit and green weed stains out of my work pants. Oh and I fixed the hole in the fence tonight while SteveO was standing in the middle of it. bastards..

Water in that creek..

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Out checking water this am on the ranch I had to stop and wonder what Great Grandad and Grandad would 💭 think of a solar water well. All those years begging for 💨 wind to turn the mills for the thirsty critters on the ranch. Praying for rain to fill dams, creeks and rivers. Then a solar unit.. ☀️ sun is out..boom..water runs..I have a hankering that they would say, “well all be damned, would you look at that.” It actually still amazes me as well, since we still rely on a few of those wind mills they put together in the day. Sitting on top of the ridge smiling about all the times we worked to get water 💦 running for critters.  The one time where we had to pull the well and every joint that we pulled out dropped a pipe load of freezing cold water on us. Thankful it was 100 degrees out..but it kept you alert. The times where we would have to blow the slime and yuck out of the overflow line and usually ended up ingesting a little. Still occurs today. 🙄 or the spring that my Grandad hand dug. He pushed brown rock into the walls by hand to line it. That was his main source of water for his family at his homestead. To this day still has water in it and the pump still works.. when we have groups come stay with us I always lead them to that old pump. I have them sit underneath the spigget and pump water over their head, telling them that they have been baptized by the ranch. It is one thing that they always remember as the ranch has a way of soaking into your soul. A funny story about water is from Great Grandad..After Great Grandma had passed away, he was left to raise three kids by himself plus take care of the ranch. Grandad said that Great Grandad knew he needed help. He started writing a woman back east, a mail order bride.. he wrote letters in broken English of the kingdom he lived upon. He talked of the electricity he had..the running water he had..she fell for the German and all his letters.. she headed west. My Grandad took the wagon and headed to the train station to pick her up. He brought her home and things went south quick. As she glanced around her new surroundings she asked Great Grandad “where is the electricity?” Great Grandad said in his German twist, “the vindmill outside”. She asked “where is the running water you said you had?”. He said “the creek runs by”. Grandad would always chuckle telling that story saying in the end she only lasted a few weeks. She packed her things, had Grandad take her back to the train and she headed back east. I guess she wasn’t impressed with that running water..but I will tell you on a hot day like today, there would be plenty impressed with that running water today.

I come from a long line..

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

My first Sunday night at the ranch this summer.. ahh how I love thee. We had a paleo tour today with a great family who was interested in the history.. the history..it is what builds me, my kids and links me to generations I never was able to meet. The history..the stories connect me to my grandpa and my Dad. Their stories echo through my soul keeping them alive..keeping me alive.. the ranch grounds me..it feeds me..as I was re telling some of the good stories today it hit me that I should write them down. Novel idea with a handy blog at my finger tips? 🙄 the biggest question is..”is it history? Is it stories? Or is it just interpretation of both?” I think a combination of all.. my Dad had almost 6 months to live when I came home to the ranch. There were nights that turned to daylight as Dad told me stories after stories. Maybe it was his way of reciting his memoirs. I recorded each one in my memory. I always say that his stories were life stamped into me..I remember everything about them. His chuckle on the funny ones, the deep lines that that formed around his eyes on the hard ones and the look over his glasses when it was something to especially pay attention to. Those memories along with the previous 20 years with Grandad and Dad made me whom I am today..and thankful for it.  The first story is how it all began.. a teacher and a cowboy..the ultimate love story.. Great Granpdad rode round up for a big cattle company in the late 1800’s.. My Great Grandma was a single teacher that moved out west to teach.. she signed up for a homestead..there was no fence in those days.. everything was open. Great Grandad was pushing cattle through the country and met my Great Grandma. They eventually married and started to build the ranch together. Great Grandma kept teaching.. as three children were born into the family she would take the kids with her and they would live at the school house together. Great Grandad stayed on at the ranch and worked on their dream. One day mid February of 1926 she was chopping wood for her school. She accidentally cut her leg with the ax..she went to the Doctor to get it taken care of..gangrene set in..they had to take part of her leg off..the infection kept spreading until February 28, 1926 she passed away at 38 years old..leaving my Great Grandad with three little kids, their ranch and a heart ache he would never get over. My Grandad, the oldest, was 16.