Tag: ranch

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.

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..

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 stomach ache for sure…

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Round 2… I was too tired last night to care about raccoons.. I told the hound before we went to bed to be sure and potty as much as she could as we weren’t getting up till dawn. So.. she did.. but the raccoons wanted to play.. the hound shook her collar about 5 AM and I agreed that probably the coast was clear. I slowly opened the door and no raccoons.. but.. I had grabbed some old jars of carmel that I had canned awhile back with all intentions of taking the contents to the dump. They beat me to it. To the left they had the lid and ring and an empty jar laying amongst the grass. To the right they had the rest… none were opened but every ring was loose.. they were close. I have bets that they have a belly ache this am. The Stauff looked the jars over and laughed, “you should leave the others out here, they cleaned them up pretty good”. I almost wished I could have watched that go down. Looks like teeth marks on the rings.. ingenious little bastards.

Which leads me to think about how it all went down. Of course the family comes wondering through the yard looking and smelling for anything that might peak their stomach. They see the carmel jars nestled into the little brown box sitting nicely on the chair outside the front door. They smell a whiff of sugar and get excited. The siblings jump around each other each eagerly trying their hand at grabbing one. 14 baby paws and a cranky ole mother sitting there on the step trying to hatch a plan to get the goods. They start prying with their teeth until one won the spin with the teeth on the ring and the ring broke loose. Tiny fingers managed to twist the ring off. Now the lid. A quick pry with the teeth and wahlah, the heavenly crystalized contents awaited them. Only problem, there was only 1 jar and 7 little racconns vying for the sugar. Now, I have had little kids and I know what they are like when they both want something. They fight. I would have loved to watch 7 raccoons pushing, shoving and fighting to get their lick of gold or a paw smeared with it. They must have gotten along well though since the other jars also all teeth marks in the rings.

But then… if that wasn’t a good enough show… Any good mother knows, when it is time, it is time. At what point did their mother raccoon look at her little raccoon watch, moon, sun coming up etc and say “attention my babies, it is time to go back home for the night”. How did that work? How did she throw that rationale out there to walk away from all the jars that were so close, but alas unopened? Was she stern? Did she rap them on the hands and grab each one? Did she give them a good swift kick in the ass and tell them to get home now.. before the crazy women inside with her stoned hound comes out and finds them? Like the old saying “It was like putting candy in front of a little kid and telling them that they can’t have it”. hmm.. makes a person wonder. I need a ring camera at our door..

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..

A shitty day in a nutshell

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Last night coming home I reflected on how many shitty turns the day had gifted me with. I pull up to the mailbox blankly and rolled my window down. I glanced up to the sky to see heaven itself a touch closer as the coolness of the night rushed over me.. “ahh” I thought, the fresh air feels good. I back up and continue my trek home with the window down. I turned up the XM radio a bit blasting the best of the 80’s and rested my elbow on the window seal. About home I see a bird fly up over the hood.. “Aw boy, you just made it fella” I whispered to myself. About that time I felt something warm that then turned cold on my elbow. I think to myself. “WTF is that?” I touch it… sure enough. That bird shit on my elbow as it was getting some height to fly away.. I sat there.. with slick bird shit now smeared on my hands, my tshirt and now the seal of the window.. no napkin handy, I wipe the birdshit on the bottom of my jeans..I laughed as I pulled up to the house.. what are the odds. A clear definition of a shitty day..

BUT.. then… I got busy letting my hound out to bark and carry on, brought in all the groceries, putting things away, etc. Everything set, I say, “I am going to bed, screw it”. I wander into the bathroom for my night time ritual of washing my face and brushing my pearly whites. I brush my teeth first. As I finished, I cupped my hands under the cold water. I leaned down and sipped the water like an old cow at a water tank and then it hit me. Shit… did I wash my hands when I got home from all the bird shit that was smeared on them? Hmm.. I honestly didn’t remember. But I think that it was a strong, NOPE. HAHA..

yea a shitty day, in a nutshell.