Tag: writing

Why… Just Why?

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

Last week was rough on the ranch. We are getting close to being done with calving. Waiting on two stragglers, one older cow and one going to be new momma. I don’t stray far or long during calving season. I had a Dr. appt in town that I had already canceled and The Stauff said that they would be fine. The older cow, “Mavis” knew what to do and the younger cow looked to be out for a few more days. So I made a run for town. I got all my running done, dropped J’s stuff off to her and raced back home. Raced all day and it still took all day. Nothing is quick when you live an hour from town and 2.5 hours from the nearest “big town”.

I get home and it was getting dark. I went to find Mavis. I knew where she had been that morning and sure enough, she was still there. Although now she was pacing and looking frazzled. A little worry crept into my belly. I got off the 4 wheeler and walked down to where she was. She had been right next to the creek and sure enough, she had calved and the calf was in the creek, shivering. Mavis was frazzled to the point she was pawing the ground and flinging dirt and mud into the air that was raining down on me and the calf. Now, the calf wasn’t in a lot of water, but enough. I went and got our hook that we carry on the 4 wheeler and grabbed his back foot. I pulled him as far up the bank as I could. Mavis instantly went to town licking on him and bawling at me to get the hell away from her calf. I ran back to the house and grabbed some nurse mate to give to the calf, thinking it might help him get up. I fly back and tip toe back across the creek. Mavis was still frazzled. I couldn’t blame her, I would be the same. I eased up to the calf and gave him a shot of nurse mate. He let out a a little bawl and Mavis came running over (as my life flashed before my eyes). She went to licking on him. I grabbed all of my stuff and went home. We would see what tomorrow would be.

I didn’t sleep at all that night. I watched the clock flip to every hour. Finally at 5:30 it was light enough to go see what had happened. I grabbed my hat, and coat and set out. The calf was still in the same spot. My heart dropped knowing it was dead. I got off the 4 wheeler and walked towards it. Mavis still pacing beside it. As I got close the calf moved its head a little bit. I jumped down next to it and rubbed on it. It was alive. “Ok”, I thought, “I will try my best to save you”. I ran down to our barn and grabbed my little calf sled. I brought it back up and lifted the calf into the sled, tied it to the 4 wheeler and pulled it up out of the creek channel. Mavis followed close behind watching her baby be carried away. My plan was perfect until Mavis saw the other cows and she ran to them instead. I thought, “ok, plan B, just take the calf to our basement”. Which I did, it was closer to than the barn anyway.

I pulled the calf sled into our basement and started a fire in our stove. I left the door open on the stove so the heat could roll out to him. I grabbed blankets and started rubbing him down, from his hooves to his ears. The dogs came down to join me and to see what the fuss was about. Sydney, the older dog went into action. She started licking his nose and worked her way down his neck. His eyes were sunken in and I knew he probably had never gotten up and sucked. I ran to our tote with all the milk replacement and electrolytes. I propped him up so he wasn’t laying flat on the floor and ran upstairs to prepare his concoction of hope. I flew back down stairs and tried to give him a bottle. He swallowed a little, but never really sucked. I texted The Stauff. He said to try and call the neighbor to see if they could drench him. I texted him and he said he would be there in 10 mins.

He showed up and was able to drench him. His mouth still cold, but his belly was full. The neighbor left and I settled in beside him praying for a miracle. I would rub on him with warm towels and tried to help him stand. He remained limp and unable to stand let alone suck down a bottle. As the day wore on, he would bawl a few times and then lay back down. He gave me hopes that all was going to work out and then other times, my heart would get sad knowing deep down in my belly he wasn’t going to make it. The Stauff said he was going to come home after work and drench him again.I said to be sure to call me before you leave, as I think he is dying. He asked me why I would say that, and I told him, it was just a feeling. I stayed by his side all day, rubbing on him, trying to get him to drink, and basically asking God himself for a little help.

It was getting close for the The Stauff to be getting home and I was still sitting there talking to my little calf when I noticed tears streaming down his face. I said, “ahh sweet boy, no reason for tears, The Stauff will be here soon and he will get some warm milk in your belly. We will have you back with your Momma soon”. I wiped his steady stream of tears off of his face. About that time I got a call from the lodge asking for some groceries. I told the baby that I would be right back.

I took the stuff to the guys at the lodge and ran back. I wasn’t gone 10 mins. I got back and went back to my perch next to my new found buddy. I started rubbing on him and talking to him. My eyes glanced as his belly. Then my heart stopped when I realized that his also had stopped. He had waited until I left. Hot tears dropped on the same sweet nose that I had just wiped his tears off of. Both dogs came and sat by me as I fell to tears. I got up off the floor and went and sat in a chair beside him. The Stauff arrived about 20 minutes later.

The Stauff walked in and saw me staring at the calf with a pool of tears soaking into my sweatshirt. He looked at me and then at the calf, “Is he gone?”. I shook my head yes and said, “yea, about 20 mins ago”. He checked the calf and then picked him up and carried him out. I got up and started cleaning up my mess. Milk replacer all over the counter, different sized bottles, the drenching bottle, blankets and towels all to pick up. The Stauff came back and said that he had taken care of the calf and had put the sled away. My brain was mush. Everything that I had begged for the last 24 hours was gone and all I really wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry.

The Stauff went around the cows and found that the cow that we didn’t think was going to calve was indeed in the process. He said he would stick around and wait to make sure everything was ok with that one. He went to check and then pretty soon he came back. He said, “well, good news and bad news. Good news is, she calved and the calf is up. The bad news is, there are a bunch of cows and calves around her and the calf doesn’t understand who its mother is and being the first time mom she is getting antsy. So, let’s bring them into the barn where they can get to know each other by themselves.

I grabbed my hat, went and grabbed the sled that was just put away and away we went. The Stauff threw the calf into the sled and the Momma was hot on our tail. She followed us to the barn and after a little persuasion, she went into the barn and into her little box. We grabbed the Momma some sweet alfalfa hay and water and let them be. The Stauff had to get back to work and gave me instructions on what to do the following day.

I went home and sat on the porch with the 2 dogs. I watched Mavis walk out of the group of cows back to where she had last seen her baby. I watched her stop and look all around, holler for her baby and keep on looking for it. I fell apart knowing I failed and I wasn’t able to help her baby. If there would have been a way to tell her how sorry I was, I would have done it in a heart beat. I sat there and listened to the frantic cry of a mother who lost her baby and desperately wanted to find it. I finally collapsed into bed with swollen eyes and a broken heart.

The next morning, I again got up early and said a little prayer, to God, Jesus, Dad, Great Grandparents, spirit guides and actually anyone who would listen. I begged them to have this calf be healthy and know who it’s Momma was.

I snuck into the barn and held my breathe. Little rays of sunlight sneaking through the cracks in the wall. The calf was curled up in the opposite corner that I had left her in the previous night. The Momma was still munching on her sweet alfalfa. I walked over to the calf curled up by the fence. The Momma immediately started talking to it. I knelt beside it and she lifted her head to meet my gaze. I reached out my hand to rub her nose and there, resting on her face was a little white patch of hair in the shape of a teardrop. Considering all of our cows are 100% black, it surprised me. The Momma was sucked down and all was well. I kicked open the gate to let them out into the big pen in the corrals. The Momma started to walk out and turned and talked to her baby. The baby jumped up and wobbly legs slowly stepped into the warmth of the sunlight. The sun highlighted her white tear drop and it stopped me. Grandpa had always said when you get those little random spots they are really kisses from angels.

I dropped my head thinking of my little baby yesterday and the tears that were running down his face. He might have died, but maybe he helped save this one and in doing so, dropped her a kiss on the face just for me. I smiled as the little calf started to feel new energy run through her as she gave a few little bucks trying to keep up with her Momma. I smiled and thought, “yea, this one gets a name. I don’t care what The Stauff says”.

And so ends calving of 2026. I lost one, and I repeat a could’a, should’a, would’a every day and probably will until the day we sell our steers. Then next year, I will have another round of begging and prayers to anyone who will listen. The circle of life on a ranch. I don’t think it ever gets easier, you just learn to pivot and move and hope some frantic Momma cow doesn’t turn your ass upside down. And… did I mention we had a fire on the ranch? Oh yea.. next story.

Winter Meadows and the Case of the Hidden Calf

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

This morning I grabbed my Carhart beanie and pulled it down tight over my ears. I scraped the frost off the 4 wheeler seat and turned it on. Out of the yard I went humming along begging for that magical count. The sun had been out for about an hour and was already turning the heavy frost to drops of dew. The meadows looked like a million diamonds shimmering in the sun. It was so pretty. I would have probably sat longer and watched till they all melted away, but, I was missing one cow.

I went back through the cows to recount. Let’s be honest, I miss count every time. It happens. I counted again, and then another… yep, missing one.. damnit.. Let the search party begin. Since I was at the east end of the pasture, I started there first. Zoomed past the water tank, through the olive trees and popped over the bank. A black back peaked out from the over grown bushes. AHA.. The missing had been found. Now, these bushes are unruly. They are tall, tough and thick. I tried to weave in between them to get closer to my prize. No luck, I had to redo my route. I get closer, still not close enough. I decided to just hop off the 4 wheeler and sneak over closer to her. I turned off the 4 wheeler and looked up at her. She had sharp eyes on me. I took a few steps towards her and then she took a few steps towards me. I wrinkled my face a little and said, “Yo, momma, I just need your tag number”. She decided the two step was in order and took two more steps my way. I got the picture colored in colorful colors as she threw her head to the side and blew a little snot. I high stepped over 4 foot bushes back to my 4 wheeler. As I watched her get closer, she stopped and stared square at me. I gasped, “SON OF A BITCH! #12). I started the 4 wheeler back up in a heartbeat and started backing up. She turned and went back to pacing.

#12… ga damn.. I couldn’t tell The Stauff yet. I never tell him when they are starting to calve as he gets stressed and nervous not being here. I just let the story play out and recap the saga to him later, once dust has settled. I have learned over the years, it makes life easier. I looked at my watch, 6:30 AM. I thought about my day and my meetings. I settled on 10:30 would be the time I would sneak out and get an update.

I watched the clock slowly tick by. Meetings drug on like watching molasses drip. Finally my window of opportunity hit. I grabbed my Carhart beanie and away I went rumbling across the pasture, east side being my destination. I get there, no #12. I stand up on the seat of the 4 wheeler, still no black back to be found. “Well”, I thought, maybe I pissed her off and she went somewhere else since I found her spot. Shit happens, but she surely didn’t go far. I buzzed up one side of the creek, then the other. A slow push through the taller bushes and then I saw a spot of black. “AHA”, I said. I quick reverse and I was picking my path. She was laying down. I prayed on my trek that she wasn’t having issues and that all would be well.

Once I got close, she whipped her head my way and got up. She stands up and lets out a long and low moooo. I couldn’t see a baby anywhere. I thought to myself, I will legit have a breakdown if that calf is hanging out of her. I tried to ‘haw’ her to get her to move. She had no issues moving and then she swung her ass towards me.. no calf. praise God himself. I grabbed reverse and moved the 4 wheeler so I could get a better view. I decided it wasn’t in my best interest to get off and wander too far on foot. I positioned myself closer on the other side of her. Sure as hell, a baby calf was beside her trying his best to stand. I laughed and said, “well look at the trickster, you finally have a baby”. I snapped my picture and made damn sure the tag clearly showed #12.

I get home and text The Stauff.

I say, “I finally found #12’s calf” and I sent the picture.

Nothing more.

A few hours later he says, “Man, so we weren’t crazy after all. She did have one”.


I paused and said, “yea, she hid it good, it was with her all the time, except it was inside her. She just calved about 2 hours ago”.

His only come back, “I would have swore she had a calf with her when I was tagging those other calves”.

So, this weekend The Stauff can legit tag #12’s calf. Hopefully motherhood will have her calmed and settled a little bit when that point comes. Case solved.

From diamonds in the meadow to the pot of gold in the bushes. On to the next one..

Come again?

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

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.

Understanding Calving: A Rancher’s Journey

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

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..

Person putting Crunchy Oats cereal box into shopping cart in a supermarket aisle

Life Lessons from Buying Cereal

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

I had to take a day off of work to go work my other job. I had to run to Rapid to get stuff for the lodge to get ready for folks to stay.. I was lucky enough to catch lunch with J and then went about gathering, pondering and dreaming. The last stop, Walmart.. I was about drained of energy and had a headache that was starting to pound. I strolled the isles planning things out in my head when I turned down the cereal aisle. In the aisle was a dad and his son, whom I would guess to be 8 or so. As I wheeled my creeky cart toward them, I caught their conversation. Dad, “hey, do you want to pick out some cereal?”. Boy, “yea!”. Dad, “here is some that has dinosaurs in it it. Would you like those?”. Now, at this point I almost looked at what he was pointing out and grabbed a box. I laughed to myself thinking of having dinosaur cereal at the lodge. Anyway….

Boy, “no, oh WAIT! These.. I love these”.

Dad, “Applejacks? I have never seen you eat those before”.

Boy, ” I have too, they are the best”. Dad, “are you sure?”.

Boy, “yep, that is the one I want”.

I was smiling at their conversation as I whispered a “excuse me” as I swerved through them. As I past them, my brain replayed a million scenes of the same conversation with my hooligans as they were growing up. As my brain finished the memory lane it looked at my heart sitting there all swelled up. My brain asked my heart what was wrong. My heart said, “gosh, it is hard to believe those days are over. All in the past.”. And then just like that my heart broke just a little. I looked down and some big ole drops fell from my eyes and splashed to the floor by my feet. I turned to face this “fascinating” selection of granola. I pushed my glasses into my hair and wiped the tears away as my brain whispered, “you two, pull your shit together, tears another time, another place”. And, so we did. I managed to squeeze some air back into my lungs that at some point had deflated and went on about looking at my list.

The creek of the rusty wheels on the cart was the only sound my ears could hear. I don’t know if it was my headache, the tide wasnt right or it just caught me just right, but one thing is true. If you have kids or friends or loved ones, or pets, do me a favor and love on them a little. Time is indeed a thief and you won’t understand that, until that time is gone. Buy the cereal. Plus, I think this world needs a little more happiness and lovin.. oh….side note…the kiddo got his Apple Jack’s and I got a random sack of protein strawberry granola.. lol..

😉
🫣
😂

The Piano that Sealed the Deal

Posted on by onlyinastauffworld

She was a teacher who moved from Omaha to the wilds of Wyoming in the early 1900s, leaving her family behind to embark on a new life in the West. The newest school teacher in the area sparked intrigue, particularly capturing the attention of two dusty cowboys who worked for a large local cattle company. Introduced as Miss Gieseleman, or Helen to those close to her, she began to dream of her own land and homestead. As days turned into months, the two cowboys continued to visit, offering their assistance. Eventually, one cowboy proposed, unaware that the other had feelings for her as well. Unsure of whom to choose, Helen devised a plan: she declared that her heart desired a piano, promising to marry whichever cowboy could deliver one to her school. Charles Zerbst stepped up to the challenge and delivered a beautiful piano. Grateful, Helen took his hand in marriage. She signed her name to her first homestead paperwork on June 3, 1909, and just six days later, Charles and Helen were married in Omaha. They would bring three children into the world—a girl and two boys—believing they had forever together, but ultimately, their time was limited to just 17 years.

They built a vast ranch together, where Helen continued to teach. Every year, she would take their three children with her to school, where she dedicated herself throughout the academic year. Once the school year concluded, she would return to the ranch with her family in tow. Horses, cattle, and sheep formed the backbone of the ranch, and selling horses to the cavalry stations helped to establish their trusted name.

Nestled in a beautiful valley, the ranch was graced by a lazy creek that meandered through the landscape. Lush meadows filled with tall grass provided ample grazing for the livestock, and a quaint two-room cabin housed the family of five—creating what many would consider a perfect life. However, tragedy struck when Helen was just 39 years old. Her oldest son, William, was left to help lay his mother to rest. At just 16, he had completed the eighth grade and was already working alongside his father. As they managed the ranch together, he also took on the responsibility of raising his younger siblings.

Helen’s untimely death marked the beginning of a series of heart-wrenching tragedies that would befall the ranch. Over the course of its 117-year history, the ranch has been a source of both profound joy and deep sorrow.

At the end of the day, as I gaze around the familiar meadows they once roamed, I watch the sun rise over the same hills and sink down into the horizon they cherished. Though the horses and sheep are long gone, the brand first pressed onto a calf endures to this day. The worry and wonder of maintaining the ranch and building upon its legacy persist, four generations later. I would do anything to keep the ranch and their dream alive. As I gaze at their wedding picture taken on that June 9th in 1909, I notice the dimple in my son’s chin and the curls of my daughter’s hair; I see echoes of five generations reflected in my own children. I remember the locket that Great Grandma lost, and how Dad found it one day while riding, the same one I have safely locked away.

So I dust off the dust and adjust my hat, casting off the burdens that weigh me down. I come from a long line of strength, a resilience forged in the moments spent on my knees, praying for help, a sign, or just a much-needed break from the trials that life so often thrusts upon us. Each whisper of hope echoes through my lineage, reminding me that even in the darkest times, we rise, fueled by unwavering faith and an unbreakable spirit that has been passed down through generations. It is this legacy of perseverance that lights my path, guiding me through storms and shadowy corners, teaching me that the essence of my ancestors lives on in me, urging me to keep pushing forward, to embrace the challenges that come my way, and to never lose sight of the dream that fuels me to fight for a better tomorrow.

And to think, it all started with a piano. Maybe I should learn how to play one.