As I sit working from the kitchen table this Friday .. I hear the sound of hooves and laughter coming down the driveway.
The girls are back together for the first time in months and seem to sincerely be enjoying each other’s company.
It’s drizzing rain today, cool and cloudy. While most people are cursing this summer weather ..
They really don’t seem to mind. Beautiful.
The Cowboy and I are sitting at the table tonight looking at calendars. And talking. He tells me he’s got a busy week ahead and work is picking back up. He’s wearing a smile. One I haven’t seen in awhile.
“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of crabby lately,” he says to me, in rather good spirits. “I’ve got the wintertime blues.” He laughs.
I know, I tell him. I reassure him it’s not a problem and I get it. I’ve battled a slight case of it myself lately. And it has nothing to do with the weather.
Winter trim –
Work, or lack of, has been a topic of discussion for us the past couple months. The Cowboy, because winters are just slow in the farrier business and this has been a brutal winter. When it is frigid, which it has been a lot, people cancel shoeing appointments. When it snows, which it has a lot this winter, people cancel shoeing appointments. When the roads are icy, which they were again yesterday and today, people cancel shoeing appointments. No one wants to be out in it. The Cowboy included. But given it is the majority of his livelihood, no work means no pay.
…………….
Work is also slow in the winter because .. because of a little factoid I am a bit fascinated with: horses hooves don’t grow as fast this time of year. Did you know this? You may, but I learned only recently despite having my own horses for years. Apparently I’ve not paid all that much attention to the time span between farrier visits.
“Horse hooves are like human fingernails and they just grow slower when it gets colder,” the Cowboy tells me when I ask him again to explain.
http://www.princealbertstables.com/can_you_influence_hoof_growth.htm
“But I’ve also been told sunlight plays a role. Kind of like when they start to shed in the spring, that has more to do with the amount of sunlight they’re getting, not necessarily because of the temperature.”
He’s still smiling as he looks at his calendar, which appears to be filling up for the first time in months. The blues, especially with Daylight Savings around the corner, appear to be waning.
http://www.cceequine.org/fact_sheets/How%20a%20Horse%20Hoof%20Grows.pdf
There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t hear someone complaining about how long and how harsh this winter has been. I too, am ready for spring. So I get it.
But there are a few I know ..
One of my fav shots from the weekend –
.. who just can’t seem to get enough of it.
The cold and snow have meant a playground of sorts here at the ranch all winter. I know I’ve posted pics of our crew sledding before, but there were very few moments the kids (or the Cowboy) were inside this weekend. If they were, it was momentary as they came in to warm up.
Sledding South Dakota style –
And then they would head back out again ..
The Cowboy and his little girl –
While I don’t typically show faces, the expressions I believe, are what make these photos. At least to me.
All smiles –
So many more great snapshots from the past few days. Thought would be fun to share even a few ..
Holding on with all his might –
.. as we all still wait on spring.
She woke early again this morning for school.
Got up.
Got ready.
“Where’s the bb gun again?” she asked the Cowboy?
Off she went with the dogs ..
Morning target practice.
I smiled as I had to call her in – twice – to grab a bite to eat quick and her things so that we could get her off in time to school. And, as she was heading back toward the house, I realized this was a moment worth savoring and that I didn’t want to miss ..
I ran to grab my camera and sneak in this shot of my own.
My Little Annie Oakley, I though to myself. (She’s really enjoying the BB gun Santa got her for Christmas last year, our three other littles have their own as well. 4H shooting sports, which she’s now been involved in the past couple months, has also become a wonderful resource for her.) And then I realized I really didn’t know much about Annie or if that was at all a reference for her I should be using.
………….
Living now in South Dakota, we see and hear a lot about the great heroes/heroines/outlaws of the old Wild West. Phoebe Ann Moses, or Annie Oakley as most of us know her, didn’t live or work it seems, ever in South Dakota. But I’ve been seeing a lot about her as I’ve traveled the area. Especially during our time out in Wall.
courtesy Wikipedia
Her talents as a sharpshooter and for teaching women during that era how to use a gun are what apparently made her the First American Female Superstar, according to Wikipedia. That’s a pretty big deal, and it’s all because of how she could shoot a gun.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annie_Oakley
Her aim might not be all that Annie’s was, but apparently I’m somewhat on the right track with my comparison. We’ll have to see if her shot here at some point, is good enough for her to want to take on the road.
The snow hadn’t yet started to fly this afternoon but the wind had kicked up something fierce once again on the Great Plains by late this afternoon and there was a damp chill in the air.
The grove of trees the herd was lined up against the other day was facing the wrong direction to help with tonight’s howling winds. So a few of them cozied up behind one of the loafing sheds this latest go round with Mother Nature.
The huddle.
As I ran out to snap a few photos, they all turned and looked at me, I think wanting to come over and say hello like they usually do. But all stood their ground, not wanting to give up the wind break for any other in the herd.
I smiled at them. And as the cold, bitter air sent a sharp pain through my front teeth, I scurried back inside, seeking warmth and shelter again myself.
I’ve driven a hybrid car .. oh, probably 6 years now.
It takes regular unleaded, like every other car I’ve ever driven. While it gets great mileage and has been a wonderful car for us, the Prius doesn’t do all that great on ice. And the warmer temperatures, melting snow, sleet and heavy fog recently have made for some slick rural roads.
So I’ve been taking the truck.
……………
“Hey,” I said to the Cowboy over the phone .. “Diesel 1 or Diesel 2. I can’t remember.”
“Make sure you’re not at the pumps for farm fuel!” said the Cowboy, somewhat in a panic I was at the wrong pump and may have already started putting gas in the truck.
“Don’t worry, I’m not,” I replied to him over the phone, not knowing what difference that would make. (I filed the question in the back of my mind for later)
I had called to ask again, which Diesel for the Dodge. Usually the Cowboy makes sure there is enough gas in it. But as I have been the one to use the truck versus my Prius the past couple of days, I wanted to be sure to return the favor and fill it up. Only the second time doing so on my own, I knew there was a method as to what went into the tank and why, I just couldn’t remember what it was.
What’s the weather supposed to be like, he said to himself out loud.
“I think it’s supposed to be nice,” the Cowboy continued. “I guess you can go with Diesel 2 for now. It’s not all that cold out so you shouldn’t need number one.”
Diesel 2, he explains to me as I sit down to write for the first time in a very long time, apparently gels up if it gets too cold. He let me know, I would most likely get stranded alongside the road if the wrong diesel is in the tank and the temperatures plummet.
Sincerely good to know.
…………
Also good to know why it mattered if I was at the Farm Diesel pump:
– Farm fuel is good for tractors and other farm related equipment.
– It is the same diesel, it just isn’t taxed.
– The Cowboy says there is about a $ .50 tax on every gallon of gas we buy. I ask, are you sure it’s $ .50 and he says, pretty close. (May differ by state.) I don’t feel like fact checking this morning so I’m going with it.
– There is a dye in farm fuel and if you get picked up, police can check your tank. If you have farm fuel in your truck, it is at the very least, a $1000 fine.
………….
The things we’re learning .. living on a dirt road.
The dusty trail from Chicago ..
.. brought us back one more time to the last night of the Horse Show in Fort Atkinson. 
Flip flops and shorts were quickly exchanged for jeans and boots.
Last walk up with a friend ..
It has been one of the hottest June’s on record here in Wisconsin and this week at camp, the girls .. most of them anyway .. didn’t seem to mind. Other than one day. They rode in the morning and went to the pool in the afternoon.
“Well,” my daughter tells me on the way home as she is reliving some of the fun that went on this week outside learning better horsemanship .. “some of the girls got really crabby the last couple days. I think it was just too hot.”
We laughed a little about it, especially since we were at that point, sitting in the air conditioned car. I looked at the temperature gauge. 99 degrees. According to the car.
Hugs, introducing parents and taking last day pics ..
Our 11-year-old absolutely loves this camp ..
Showing families all they’ve learned ..
This is only our second year of overnight .. but she’s been fortunate to come for years to the day camp. There is something about it. The place. The people. The other girls. Learning something new. Being close to home but not too close to start to really learn to feel more comfortable in her independence. Perhaps most importantly, it’s just camp. Late night chats. Secret stories. Running around like crazy. Freedom of being a kid in a cool place and confidence building in life and social skills. That experience she’ll remember for a lifetime. That she’ll perhaps tell her own daughter about.
One last ride for this year anyway, on Quincy ..
She gave a few hugs. Said many thank you’s. Bought the standard camp sweatshirt. Grabbed a Gatorade and we hit the road. Ran errands. Then having had enough of the heat all week, grabbed the dog and headed for the River to cool off.
What a beautiful day.
………………..
While she has a few other camps coming up yet this summer, ones that I know she will love in very different ways ..
As we were watching early 4th of July Fireworks from a friends pier on the lake last night and she is leaning on my chest with her arms around me, she says, “Mom, I really miss camp. I’m worried I won’t be able to go back next year.”
“We’ll see,” I told her. “If you love it that much and it is important to you, that might be one of the things we’ll make sure you’re able to do.”
She hugged me tighter and said thanks.
I have sincerely had this song stuck in my head now for days.
Sit in that six lane backed up traffic
Honks are honking, I’ve about had it
I’m looking for an exit sign
Gotta get out of here, get it all off my mind
And like a memory from your grandpa’s attic
A song comes slippin’ through the radio static
Changing my mood, a little George Strait 1982
And it makes me wanna take a back road
Makes me wanna take the long way home
Put a little gravel in my travel
Unwind, unravel all night long
Makes me wanna grab my honey
Tear down some two-lane country, who knows
Get lost and get right with my soul
Makes me wanna take, makes me wanna
Take a back road.
– Rodney Atkins, Take a Backroad
I’m thinking the fact this has been just spinning in my head must be a sign. That, at the very least, I need a vacation.
It’s a few years old now ..
But as I was looking back through photos for something that might go with yesterdays post, I came across this one of my daughter at our friends ranch near Dillon, Montana.
And just want my daughter to know, it will always be one of my favorites of her. A reminder of a simpler time and place in our lives. But also just a simple, wonderful place we go as often as we can. Where the pace is as fast as you want to go. Where it’s tough to be in cell range. But you can be as connected as you want to be. Where neighbors can be found in each other’s small shops sipping coffee, grabbing a beer .. or with the whole family and a dish to pass at the fairgrounds .. everyone keeping an eye on each others kids, keeping them honest, but allowing room for a lot of fun, where people work hard but say they wouldn’t have it any other way.
I love the city. Big cities. Small cities. I love the culture. I love the food. I’m a huge fan of people watching. I love the hustle and bustle. The buzz. The Cowboy, when we first met, worried a bit about the fact I rarely sit still.
‘Sure’, I’ve told him. ‘I love this – on one level. There is always somewhere to go, something to do or family and friends to see .. ‘
But there is a lot to be said, for taking a backroad.
And at some point, only God knows when, I’m looking forward to that being more a part of my daily commute.
His old roping partner called him up about three weeks ago ..
Foothills Rodeo.
He was going to be back in town and thought it would be fun to enter.
The Cowboy didn’t want to do it. Doesn’t like the thought of ‘doing something half-assed,’ he always tells me. Or putting money up to rope when he hasn’t been working at it.
The Cowboy hasn’t been doing much rodeoing for a couple years now.. since the divorce and especially this past year. Many weekends are spent on the road between South Dakota and Wisconsin. To which I am grateful for, but I know they have put a serious dent in what used to be his lifestyle.
He told me about the call.
“C’mon,” I said. “It’ll be fun .. plus, I’ve seen you teach others how to do it, I’d love to go watch you actually rope. And I’ll be at the ranch that weekend.”
Reluctantly, I believe, he agreed to go.
…………………
We all piled into one of the Cowboy’s best buddies trucks just before noon Sunday, me, the Cowboy, Scuba Steve and his pregnant wife, and Little Brother Trucker ( .. his partner. They’re going to kill me for the names.) yesterday, horses in tow and headed for the Foothills Rodeo.
“You’re on the hot and dusty now,” said the Cowboy. Laughing.
It wasn’t long .. stories started flying about their history together. Their travels. Their friendships. And all the things they would do to one another while on the road. The Cowboy says these are among the best friends he has in the whole world. He’s spent a lot of time with them over the years and he laughs as he tells me, you really get to know someone after spending 48 hours together in the same vehicle, sleeping in same bed, living in 5×5 quarters. You have to learn a lot of coping skills on how to get along.
For them, and I would assume many others in their shoes, it’s meant a lot of pranks and joking around.
And it literally didn’t take long for the sh*t to start flying yesterday. We no more than parked on rodeo grounds. They get the horses out and the Cowboy goes back into the horse part of the trailer to take .. um, use the facilities. Just number one for the record. (If the horses can do it, why can’t they? Had never thought of that.) The trucker locks him in. Apparently this is a regular thing they do, or did in the past .. to each other.
The Cowboy says, “Remember what I did to your brother the last time he did that to me?”
“N …” says the Trucker.
But before he could even finish that one small word, a wad of horse sh*t schmucked his shoulder and face. We all bust out laughing and immediately starting wondering, worrying a bit actually what the Trucker would do now, to get him back.
Thankfully he had brought another shirt.
The rodeo came and went. None of them did as well as they had hoped. But where they may have taken it hard in the past, life has them all in some very different places now. And it seemed …
.. they were just happy to be back together.
Win or lose.
Even locked in with the horses again.
You would have thought the bathroom at the restaurant where we stopped for dinner on the way home would have been as easy to use as the back of the trailer .. but Scuba Steve’s pregnant wife, who was about fed up with the teasing, decided it was too easy two of them were standing in there bonding with the horses, again. She locked em in. Said to the rest of us, get in the truck. And away we drove ….
Looking forward to the next rodeo.
Conversations With a Cowboy 