Now, where WERE we?

You're going to get some amazingly random posts, all in a big bunch, because I've got SO MUCH to try to catch up on!  I discovered that this is my journal, my scrapbook, my letter and the place I come when I try to remember what happened two years ago.  (You get to read my "diary"! V-e-r-y boring...but still...)

Let's do Thanksgiving, since it's fresh in my mind and I still have leftover pie in the fridge that I can return to, should the posting tax me too much.

For the last ten years, I think, we've had Thanksgiving with the Jaspers.  I can't remember exactly how we got started with this tradition, but I DO know that every year there's an element of drama and a calamity of some kind.  One year, I had "turkey poisoning" which ended up being a surprise pregnancy...Angus.  Another year, we had to have the whole dinner in about 45 minutes (including pie and coffee) because of a blizzard.  Last year we had too many people in too small a space for too many days and there were sick kids.  We've started looking forward to Thanksgiving with a sort of happy dread...what will it be THIS year?

Ivan and Jenny hosted, this year, in Billings.  They have the basement of my dreams.  Imagine a big room filled with vintage/retro arcade games that really work, air hockey table, shooting arcade and a fully functional old jukebox with Elvis, the Eagles and so forth.  Every 40 year old's dream! The kids liked it, too...

This is a 4 player pinball machine!  I loved it and hated it....pinball is a WRETCHED game for anyone with control issues, that's all I've got to say.

Grandma Celestia, taking out a couple fish.

Grandpa Jasper, trying to beat Grandma's score...

(I don't know if he did, or not, but it was a good challenge!)

David and Maggie, playing the first of 297 air hockey games in two days.

There were also "Projects".

I sat down in the living room after having put the turkey in and said, "I feel like I should be doing something!"

Ivan gestured to the two plants in the window and said, "You could repot the plants..."

So I did. 

When the Farmer got to Billings, he was in possession of a plasma cutter and THIS was the delight of all the men.  They had to cut something. They HAD to cut two chunks of metal off the old truck Ivan is restoring.  

Happy smile...metal will be cut!

Another happy smile....playing in the shop is the bomb!

Someday, the whole truck will be this great yellow color. I can hardly wait to see it!

And we commence with the cutting.

The project draws a crowd of curious bystanders. Or supervisors. 

Ivan, prepping for his turn with the plasma cutter.

Sparks fly!!

We DID eat.

In fact, I think we ate every 15 minutes for two days.

I'm not kidding!

Every time someone strolled through the house, we tried to feed them something..."Did you get some sausage?  Here.  You should try the sausage."  and 15 minutes later, "Are you ready for pie?  Apple cobbler? Another glass of wine?".  

It was indecent, really.

Negotiating about the turkey....we chose not to go with the plasma cutter for this job.

Sam, bringer of wine, hugger of family...I love her!

Ivan's face in this picture cracks me up! He was REALLY serious about that turkey, now. 

Do you see the little red apron?  It was Celestia's grandmother's apron!  She gave each of us girls an apron that had been her Bestemore's. (Pronounced "best-eh-ma")  What an amazing gift.

I wish I had taken a picture of the table...it was beautiful, with china and crystal and little turkey place cards! This is a smaller version, with cute people sucking down sparkling apple cider.

The kids played outside, a LOT.

And we went shooting.

It has become sort of our tradition on the morning after Thanksgiving to take all the guns we can gather and waste a bunch of ammunition shooting AT (not necessarily hitting) clay pigeons.

Wayland's turn...

Jenny's turn....

Ivan, loading the pistol....

My turn....

Ivan's turn...

Watching to see where the pigeon we launched actually ended up!  It was a surprise every time, with me launching them.  

To be continued....

First Snow

...but first, it rained, so everything looks as though it's glass; sharp and sparkly.

(I just liked the lines in this picture. I get all distracted by lines; they're mesmerizing to me, in a way.)

Black Friday

I know.

I'm a little early on this topic.

And WEEKS LATE on others!

But the topic came up at book club last night and I was thinking about it while running this morning, so I thought I'd just sit down and deal with it on the Chronicles over a cup of coffee and...half a pomegranate. Doesn't bode well, does it?

As you know, I'm not really a shopper at all.  Somewhere, I missed the girl gene that my sister (and the vast majority of all womankind) got.  It's the gene responsible for causing a female to excitedly go forth into the marketplace and seek the elusive perfect "thing" at 20% off.  It's the gene that brings women together in a time of bonding and chatting, roaming and sorting through bins and racks of "things" while discussing the mystery of the "why?" chromosomal creatures called "men" whom they likely left at home watching football or in the river fishing.  It's a drive, deeply ingrained somehow, that keeps the girls going from store to store even though they're tired and hungry.

Near as I can tell, it's Hunting Like Chicks. 

Note the similarities of hunting and shopping:

• You never really know if you're going to bag something great but there's always the hope.
• It requires a certain amount of patience and good timing. (Think two-fer-one sales...what luck!)
• The experience is usually well-planned prior to heading out...locations discussed and agreed upon (or not), supplies gathered, appropriate attire readied.
• It's usually an all day thing, even if there's a vow to be done by lunchtime. 
• As mentioned before, one expects to get tired and hungry.  This is just part of the "fun", right?
• If something exceptional is bagged, there's congratulation and celebration within the group, but there's also a small (teensy, really) amount of envy over the trophy.  Somehow, the pretty darn good buck/shoes that were scored earlier in the day are less...adequate.  
• Take granola bars and water.
• Wear comfortable footwear and dress in layers.
• Never be the first one to admit hunger or fatigue to the whole party.  This is perceived as weakness and will be fodder for taunting, later.  

See?  

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Black Friday is the holy day of Shopping. 

It's like opening day of deer season in Michigan, I think.

Last night, I listened (with no small amount of awe and wonder) to my friends talk happily of past Black Fridays spent bonding with their female family and friends, and their plans for upcoming ones.  I really kind of wish I could be more like that; more accepting of the shopping experience, more interested in this process that brings women together in common celebration, more like the "cool girls".  I'd like to be able to share cool shopping stories of amazing deals with my Mom or sister (who, by the way, is a professional level shopper).  I'd sort of like the thrill of finding the perfect "thing"....at least it seems to be thrilling, from what I can tell.  But to be painfully honest, I'd rather be in a room of hungry three year olds, scratching their nails on chalkboards than to be shopping on Black Friday.  Or Tuesday, on any given week. 

Happy hunting, all!

 

Fall work

Think we'll gather a little pasture, today...

Do you see 94 head of two year old heifers in this picture?

Yeah, neither did I...but we found them!

And they trailed very nicely for us.

This is a tiny little bunch that I followed to throw in with the big bunch.

I finally figured out that the trick to moving young cows is to make them think it's their idea...if they think they're running the show, they'll go right along.  However, if they think you want them to go somewhere...like through a gate...they will find every way possible to thwart the process.  

I like the trail!

Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of sagebrush....lots. 

See the little dot on the horizon?  That's a guy on a wheeler, looking for 94 head of heifers.  Do you see them anywhere in this picture?  Yeah...

And here's the boss, counting heifers.  We found 93-95 head, depending on his count...close enough!

And I love red...coat, wheeler, paddle...the only brightness around.

Photo Challenge Day 2: At work

He always works with his tongue stuck out a little, just like his Grandma Banana and PopPop Vern...

SIGNS

By Wallace McRae

It's not the crying Vs of geese

A-flying overhead.

Nor the inconspicuous buckbrush 

Suddenly, strident red.

It's not the horses hairing-up,

The creek a-turning brown.

Or the ash tree getting gussied up

In her saffron dressing gown.

It's not the blue-tinged frosty morn, 

The coyote getting bolder, 

The faint ache in my steel-pinned leg

Reminding me I'm older.

It's not the spring-green grasses, 

Now a tannish monochrome.

I know that fall's upon us-

Our cats are coming home.

Scary!

Peter Pan and Jeannie, ready to go to school in all their glorious anonymity...

...in the DARK!!!!

It's no secret I covet their naturally curly hair...BOTH OF 'EM!  Quite a few of my favorite people in this picture.  They're NOT scary. Here.  In fact, they're gorgeous, aren't they?!

More of my favorite people!  More gorgeousness!  

Yeah....Cohagen has the corner on pretty girls...and they rock the google eyes, don't you think?

Proving my point...

Our bus driver also serves as resident craft instructor, occasionally.  She sewed these great little canvas bags for the kids, helped them decorate (with glow in the dark paint, too!) and I'm pretty sure left some sort of great treats for them.

Maggie is so happy to be a "big girl" finally!  Little Miss Katie is a delight...

Have you noticed a google eye theme?  I opened this container of treats from our uber-talented aide and nearly dropped it, laughing!  She had a twinkie baking pan, if you can imagine, and came up with these treats!  Who in the world keeps a pan to make homemade twinkies?  She does!
(The other theme, here, seems to be very talented, creative neighbors and friends, don't you think?)

Along with uncommonly beautiful girls, Cohagen is home to very handsome, athletic young men...

A photo of the children after they consumed approximately 3 pounds of candy, each.  They didn't get much math done on Halloween, except subtracting treats from the funny little canvas bags...

Photo Challenge Day 1: Leaves

This is more than one leave, which technically makes it "leaves", right? And the photo challenge is combined with the shipping challenge....it's actually quite appropriate, I think.

The weather on shipping morning leaves something to be desired....tough to gather pairs when we can't see them!  Here are the trailers, waiting to leave and haul calves....

Guys leave with tummies full of breakfast burritos, cinnamon rolls, peanut butter cookies and fruit....

Glen was told not to leave his good "cow dog" at our house, but I think that was his plan at first. (He says it's not his dog.  Right.  I complimented him on being man enough to be able to walk the little thing around a bunch of tough guys with no apologies!)

Cows leave their calves and head out for a new pasture, unencumbered!

We leave technology behind and compare handwritten, nearly undecipherable lists of noteworthy calf numbers....(the lists MUST match)

Management leaves the others to sort and shift cattle for a few minutes.  It was kind of a big deal that they would leave the breakfast buffet, too, actually.  

The cattle buyer doesn't often leave his papers unguarded.  I didn't leave him alone until we knew the average weight on the steers....and then, left with a relieved smile on my face; they made contract weight!

The semi comes all clean and shiny, smelling of fresh pine chips, and leaves with our calves making a big mess.

I'm sure Scott and Melvin will leave with some good traded stories....

Can't leave the motorcycle behind!  Judging from the pickup, it may be back up transportation, I don't know.

Making decisions on which steers to leave behind....
It's a committee thing.

Happy to see the steers leave for the feedlot and the fog leave for the rest of the day!

Ranch-y

A week or so ago, I got to go to my Dad's to cook for his crew.  Karen needed to take Grandma Dutton to Billings for a medical appointment and that left Dad with 9 hands to feed while he was trying to get the cow sorting, preg-testing, truck loading organized and running.  THAT wasn't going to work, so I asked if I could come over and cook.  One of my quirks is that I like to cook for crews.  I don't know why, but I enjoy putting meals together for people who I know have been working hard.  In our family, we love people with food, so I suppose it has something to do with showing affection and appreciation.  

I didn't think to take my good camera...I didn't think I'd have time to take any pictures and besides, it's just more cows.  I'm kicking myself over that decision, because all I got were photos with the camera and they could've really been neat with my Canon.

On Facebook, I see all the pictures of fall foliage, bright yellows and oranges and burgundy.

This is what autumn looks like in eastern Montana...

I think that's why my favorite color is red.  

If we don't get snow, this is more or less what we look at from October to the end of March.

These are some of the crew's horses.  They were checking me over, just in case I had some food for them.  They would've come to visit me if I'd had time to spend talking to them.

My Dad's red trailer and horse, waiting not so very happily...

After they got the cows and calves sorted, they ran the cows through the chute, gave them shots and preg tested them.  The guy you see with what looks like a bare arm is actually Dallas Currey with a clear vet glove on.  He does stick his arm in the cow to determine whether she's pregnant or open (without calf). When he declares her bred, the other guys give her shots and backline her with Ivomec, then turn her out.  If she's open, they don't waste the shots, she gets a big mark on her back (so she can be sorted out from the bred cows later) and turned out. The whole process is pretty fast...maybe 3 minutes from start to finish, when everything goes right. (Check out the corrals!)

Naptime for this boy!  He's seen it all a hundred times or more and is no longer impressed with any of it.
I took this picture because I liked the headstall set up.  Isn't that a tremendous knot?

Here's his saddle...the saddle horn, the breast collar, the rope, the stirrup...it all makes me smile.

This picture isn't very clear, but I liked the men in the corral and the old blue pickup. 

Typical ranch trailer...you can tell that it's been to quite a few shippings and brandings.  The 50 plate and Western Pro together...that's truth in advertising, right there.
Incidentally, in Montana, each county has a number to indicate that the vehicle is registered in that county.  When the system was established, the larger the town, the smaller the number. Billings is a 3, Miles City is 14, and so forth.  When we see a Montana license plate, we can tell where that vehicle (and usually the driver) is from!  There are no secrets, here...Montana is just one big, small town.

Now we're getting ready for shipping here at Lang's Fork Inc....setting up portable panels and getting all the corrals in shape.  I'd better get off here and bake some cinnamon rolls because I heard that the Greens had HOMEMADE donuts at THEIR shipping, and I can't have them showing us up like that.  :)

Oh, and for my friends who will most certainly ask, the menu was:  hot ham and cheese sandwiches, baked beans, potato salad, chips, dessert bars that Karen had left, coffee and lemonade.  I will always make lemonade when I cook for my Dad, but that's another story altogether...