Tag Archives: South Dakota

Calm Before the Storm ..

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You never know what Mother Nature is going to dish up, despite what the forecast calls for.  But this weekend’s storm seemed about as certain as a forecast can get.  Rain turning into sleet turning into snow with high winds to follow.

Yet, in the middle of the day Saturday, it was about as beautiful and calm as early February can get.

While the Cowboy moved up a few appointments he had scheduled for Sunday/Monday .. I cleaned up around our place.  Put things away the kids had gotten out.  Made room once again in our workshop for the four wheeler.  And looked for a way to take care of the burn pile that had once again been stacking up before it was buried in snow.

Most of it being boxes that had until now, held all of my boots off-season.

As we continue to look for creative ways to fit all of our collective belongings into a very small ranch home with little storage .. the Cowboy asked me the other week, why I was keeping them.  I, of course, let him know why adding that if I ever decide to put a pair on eBay, then I have the original packaging to send them in.

“You don’t need to keep those,” he encouraged me to give them up in the name of more space for other things.  He’s was right.

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Instead of heading off to do other chores or back inside, I grabbed a glass of wine and sat awhile on a log next to the fire-pit.  It felt cathartic in some ways.  Watching.  Taking a deep breath.  Seeing more clutter disappear out of the house and our lives.  And as I watched the pile burn ..

I was enjoying the time I had to just be still and appreciating how quiet it was, that the only sounds around me were that of the crackling fire and a gentle wind.  They were some pretty simple moments, moments we don’t often take.

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But they were moments yesterday, that allowed me to reflect back on the trip I took to Austin, TX.  A pivotal point in my life in recent years.  Where I bought the most awesome pair of boots that had been in the last box to burn.  (the boots weren’t in the burning box, to clarify.)

And I couldn’t help but smile to think of the decisions in my life to come out of that trip, and the path those boots have been on since.

Frozen Nose Hair ..

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Yes.  That is how cold it remains.

You know those days, don’t you?  Days where all you have to do is step outside the door and instantaneously, eyelashes have icicles and nose hair is frozen.

If not, I’d say consider yourself lucky.  But, we live where we do because we love weather like this, don’t we?  It’s dinner in the crock pot weather.  Good stout beer weather.  Make a fire weather.  Bundle up on the couch with the kids in a big blanket and watch a movie weather.  Those are good things about it being too cold to do much else.  Either way, as the snow moves in this fine February day, here’s to hoping this is the last day of this bitter cold snap for 2013 .. we’re waiting on spring!

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(Thought a shot of Gracie’s whiskers was better any day, than a shot up any of our noses.)

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

 

Sun Dogs

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It.  Is.  Cold.  Outside.

School was cancelled for the day today.  Tomorrow it’s already called to at least run late.

While we spent most of the day inside ..

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.. we did need to get out and get a few things done before the sun went down.  Am I ever glad we waited until we did to head out.

…………..

Sun Dogs.

I had never heard the term until a few weeks ago, shortly after we made the actual move to South Dakota when there was somewhat of a rainbow and odd glow in the sky one crisp morning.  I snapped a few pics and asked the Cowboy to come look at the sky.

Cowboy and the Sundog

“That’s a Sun Dog,” he tells me.  “Haven’t you ever seen one?”

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sun_dog#section_1

I don’t know that I ever had until that moment.  I don’t recall ever seeing one anyway, not like this.  One of the marvels of living in an area like the Great Plains, is that there are few things obstructing your view.  And Mother Nature always seems to be dishing up something incredible.

January 31, 2013

January 31, 2013

Just as dusk was about to set in, the evening sky flared up tonight.  We stopped several times alongside the road to snap some shots.  And they were too beautiful to keep to ourselves.

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Diesel.

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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.

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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)

The Pumps

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.”

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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.

Work hard, play hard .. playing catch up:

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It’s been a busy past couple of weeks ..  spring/early summer always seem to be anymore, don’t they?  Good busy, but whew .. busy.

So much to do ..  projects to get done, events to go to, family and great friends to see and get caught up with, especially now that the windows are open once again and the neighborhood has once again come alive!  Sadly, there never seems to be enough time to just let it all soak in and fully enjoy.

But we try.

In an effort to get somewhat caught up on posts without having to write two weeks worth:

First official week of summer.  6th grade here we come!  Downtime for my daughter means  coming home to concoctions in the refrigerator that are unidentifiable but that she says she wants to eat.  Friends high school/college graduation parties.  Family graduation parties, too.  Family gatherings.  Time at the River.  Gigs.  Practicing guitar.  Catching up with old friends.  Work.  Camps.  Catching up on meetings.  Taking on new projects.  Wrapping up old ones.  Watering the garden.  Trying to fit in a workout.  Time in the backyard with the neighbors.  Chasing my dog back home. Time with the Cowboy.  Time with his kids.  More gigs.  Seeing my daughter off to camp (she’s so excited, more to come on that mañana).

Getting back to church.  Special projects at work.  Golf events in the name of good causes.  90+ degree heat.  No air conditioning at home.  Father’s Day bbq.  Farmers Market.  New phone.  Not liking new phone.  Trying to figure out how to get photos off new phone.  Trying to find time to take new phone back and return for another new, different phone.  Trying to fit in another workout (longer than the one before because I didn’t leave enough time for a good hearty one that’ll work off the beer I so enjoy having, especially on a hot summer night).  Looking for the right wedding dress.  Telling family/close friends that I’d prefer hear from me that I’m getting married .. that I’m getting remarried.  Still trying to find the right wedding dress in part, because I don’t really want a wedding dress.  Just a nice dress that I can wear again that won’t cost me really much at all if anything.  In fact, my favorite choice so far is an awesome crocheted piece I got at a resale shop a couple years ago now for $10.  I digress .. Tonight, conversations with the Cowboy centered around trying to find just the right bible versus for what will be a very quiet, simple ceremony, while having a glass of chilled white wine.  Which means, I need to fit in a workout tomorrow morning before leaving early for work and a day of shoots for the upcoming month of sweeps.  That’s my deal with myself.  I can have a beer or a glass of wine as long as I get in a run at some point during the day.  How’s that for a pact.  The pounds, as some of you know when you age, don’t come off as easily as they used to .. so I’d rather not get incredibly far behind.  Or I’ll develop a big behind.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that ….

The Cowboy’s daughter said to me this weekend as we were all doing cartwheels on the Capital lawn during the Farmer’s Market .. ‘not too bad for a 40 year old!’.  “Gee, thanks” I told her, trying to act frustrated but could hardly keep back from laughing.

(last couple weeks cont.) .. oh yeah, few more things to add and then feeling more caught up.  Also been consumed with Root beer.  Ice cream.  Kayaking out on the lake amongst all the weeds.  Stand Up Paddleboarding with a woman I absolutely adore.  Trying to figure out how to do yoga on a paddle board.  Wine after paddle boarding.  Finding a bike in the lake while climbing a tree.  Larry who’s not really Larry but who was awesome at helping my daughter pull seaweed out of the tires of the bike and clean it off so that we could put it in a friends car (the paddle boarder!).  Which reminds me, need to go pick that up.  Note to self.

Tying up out of control tomato branches so rest of garden can breathe.  Fans in the window again.  And again.  Sunflowers on the table.  Conversations about faith and family and doing what’s best.  Or what we believe is best.  Making tough decisions.  Keeping those close to the vest for now.  Talking with a friend who’s mother’s cancer is progressing.  Madison Children’s Museum.  Making soap.  Not going to the Union.  Birth father stopping by and getting to better know some of my half siblings (who are just incredible kids).  Raspberry pie.  And shortly .. will be putting shoes by the door so I can boogie on another quick run in the morning and not spend time trying to figure out where I last left one or both of them.  Or do I just get on the road to today’s golf outing.  Love that someone came up with the idea to get people to golf to support great causes.

Excited to write about camp tomorrow ..

Not the Madison I’d like ..

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“I’m heading to Madison,” the Cowboy told me this morning.

Sigh ..

It has probably been close to a month and a half we’ve spent nearly every weekend together if not some of the week too.  Some of it at the ranch north of Sioux Falls.  Some of it on the road where he’s had clinics.  Much of it together with the kids .. and the rest of it in Madison.  Wisconsin.

We had been taking full advantage, as best we could, of a couple months where there were good opportunities to spend time together as much as possible.

Because summer is about to hit.

“Wish it were this Madison,” I told him, knowing he’s got a lot of work to get to yet today and the kids this weekend .. I’m back to pretty packed weekends at home myself.

“Which one today?” I ask.  I never know if it’s Madison, Minnesota?  Or the one closer to home.  (Madison, South Dakota is just down the road.)

…………………

“There is the positive side and the negative side and at every moment I decide.” – William James

…………………

Posting this now two days later as life has taken precedent over writing as of late and I’ve decided that’s ok (as long as I don’t let years go by as I have on past journals) ..

Regardless I am still feeling the same – sad we can’t all be together this weekend.  I would love nothing more than for us all to be together.

But I have also, always tried to appreciate the gift of time apart, or of time alone.  And quite honestly, for a few moments each day, I need time alone.  That’s been tough for some in my life or in the past to understand.  But the Cowboy needs it too.  So we’re good like that.

So this is the ‘positive side’ of not being together this weekend.  The part where we both get to decide to make the most of it.

Time alone this weekend for the Cowboy has meant doing a whole lot of nothing with the kids at the ranch.  Bonding time they all needed.  The Cowboy keeps telling me he’s offered to take them here or there and the response all weekend has been the same:  “Can’t we just stay here and play, daddy?”

Time alone for us:  I usually use it to slow down .. breathe.  Deep.  Pray.  Go for a run.  Take time to think about how I’m living my life and be conscious about how I spend my day.  That way when it seems the world is disappointed you’re not doing enough or doing it right, you can hold your head high and say you thoughtfully did your best, did what was most important in your life and day with the time given and gave it all you had.

As a society I’m not sure we’re all that good at that anymore.  But I might be wrong.

Besides some wonderful deep breaths ..

For us the down time has meant some wonderful q-t with my own daughter, not as much as I’d like because of obligations we both had this weekend but today is still ahead .. repotting plants that are now well established into a bigger pot or the garden ..

Laundry .. going through mail .. catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a very long time .. dusting recently strewn cobwebs out of the corners of the ceiling .. time with our horse later today .. more laundry .. and fresh bedding on all the beds .. cooking a wonderful dinner at home with the asparagus, tomatoes and rhubarb we gathered at the Farmers Market yesterday.

All things I would much rather do together .. with both of our families .. but in the meantime, we’re enjoying a beautiful weekend in Madison, WI.

 

Day After the Storm ..

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It was a day of cleaning up and assessing the damage after last nights violent storms ..

For the adults, anyway.

The kids …

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… found a day full of fun and laughter and using their imaginations in a few piles of gravel, dirt and a half flooded field.

It was wet. Muddy. And cold. But no one seemed to mind. And it was so beautiful just watching the four of them, the cowboys kiddos and my little girl, have so much fun .. be so carefree ..

And for us to have seemingly all the time in the world to be outside and just be together (and laundry soap necessary to deal with the aftermath), even though we needed to get back home to Wisconsin.

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Lessons Learned on a Rainy Saturday ..

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Four kids in a small house, no matter how tired they may be, will all wake each other up.

Rain coming in through an inner wall of the house isn’t a good thing and probably means we should have already fixed the roof.

It’s good to look in the attic of an old house .. and see if for some reason you might need more (or any) insulation.

There’s a beautiful, huge greenhouse that I will gravitate toward often out in the middle of nowhere, South Dakota.  Because I love to garden.  And their stock rocks.

The Cowboy gets stressed if too many projects seem started but not finished.

Leaving a margarita out on the table with small thirsty children around probably isn’t the best idea.

Margaritas can be a good idea though and a good solution for too much stress.

I am quick to be on a horse called “I’ll have another”.

A blind pony is best led back into a pasture past the snapping electric fence before the lead rope comes off.

An electric fence that isn’t connected all the way around, may or may not be live.  But if it was, there is one tough little 1 year old in our midst.

And, proposals in the rain .. in the midst of chores .. with hands full of dirt and in front of an audience of little people .. can be beautiful.

It has been a beautiful Saturday.

Why thumbing a ride tough for some team ropers ..

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There is inherent risk in almost any sport.

Concussions playing football or soccer.  Groin/hamstring pulls/shin splints or tendonitis for runners.  Falling on the ice curling and cracking your head.  Tennis elbow.   Rotator cuff.  Catching the ball with your body not your glove.  Sprains, strains .. stray balls hit your way playing golf.  Or my girlfriends and I drinking too much over the course of 18 holes.  It can all hurt.  You get the drift …

……………

I mentioned yesterday I wanted to spare my thumbs until I had practiced roping enough to feel confident I could keep them?

……………

I’m not sure how long we had been dating that I noticed the HUGE scar around the Cowboy’s thumb.

“What happened,” I gasped.

“Oh,” he says nonchalantly.  “There are a lot of team ropers minus a thumb.”

And he laughs.

…………

The cowboy nearly lost his thumb, oh .. ‘probably 10 years ago’ he tells me, in Sydney, Iowa at a big team roping competition.

Why is this a common injury among team ropers?

Those who have done it, know.  Those who haven’t ever roped but want to try, should know.  And the rest of us, well it’s just useless trivia perhaps.  But I think it’s interesting enough to warrant its own post as we head into another weekend of clinics.

Ropers do something they call, dally.  Which is when they take the rope and wrap it around the saddle horn after they have either headed or heeled the steer.  I think I’m describing that right, anyway..

There is a piece of rubber around the horn (usually a piece of inner tube that’s been cut to size) and that is what makes the rope stick.

http://www.ehow.com/how_8240541_do-dally-team-roping.html

You dally because you either have a four or five hundred pound steer you are trying to turn for your partner to grab its hind legs, or because you’ve got the hind legs and you’re wrapping up your run and that dally and pull is what stops the clock.

The goal is, to not get any fingers caught up in the mix.

But the Cowboy tells me, “When you pull your slack and you take a wrap you have coils in that hand.  If you let go of that ..” OR, “Sometimes you get your thumb caught in when you’re cinching the rope down tight around the saddle horn..” OR, “You put a little twist in the rope and it gets caught going about 30 mph..”

POP goes the thumb.

Like this guys (Story from KBOI2.com):  Idaho team roper competing despite loss of thumb http://tinyurl.com/c28p2ct

The Cowboy says, “When you’re in a storm .. When things aren’t going right and you know you’re in trouble, you’re taught to let go.  But when you’re roping for a big prize and things are moving fast, you don’t always have time to think.”

The Cowboy (knock on wood) still has both thumbs.  But, he says, he’s probably got 5 or 6 friends that are missing theirs.

Like most other athletes though, with any given sports injury .. this particular cowboy along with every other thumbless friend, has gotten right back on that horse.

Is back in the box.

And is giving .. another nod.

Holding onto my thumbs, for now .. (catch up post from the weekend)

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I love learning something new each day.  I love getting my hands dirty, getting involved, putting myself in situations that challenge me and make me think about who I really am and what I am capable of or able to do.

But there are also many times where I thoroughly appreciate learning something through the eyes of others and sharing their stories.

……………

The owner of the ranch hosting the Cowboy’s roping clinic had this past Sunday asked if I wanted to ride as they were all roping in the arena, and said it’d be a favor to him if I’d run one of his.

So I did.  A little bit.

And it didn’t take long for the Cowboy to ask a question I knew would be coming.

“Want to chase a steer?” he says to me.

He’s been after me to give roping a try .. which I’d love to.  And I’ve tried my hand at it, very meagerly, on the ground, a few times.

But I’m thinking I need like a year or two, where I can take off of work entirely and do nothing more than rope, to have all that much fun with it.  And more importantly, not injure anyone including myself.

It’s an incredibly acquired skill.  And while I consider myself blessed to be able to pick up most things quite easily…

This is one sport where I’m concerned I might lose a thumb.  (Which isn’t all that uncommon, apparently.)  Get completely tossed and break a limb.  Maim or plow over the steer because I didn’t better ‘steer’ my horse.  Or quite possibly, severely injure the person I would otherwise be roping with.  Like throw the rope around them .. and pull.

That .. would .. be .. bad.

“No thanks,” I replied to the Cowboy kind of chuckling under my breath.

The horse I was on would have loved nothing more than to rope that day, too and he was trying to let me know in no uncertain terms he was ancy to get to work doing what all his buddies were.  All he wanted to do is run.  Fast.  And chase more than the air I was giving him up and down the other side of the arena in-between the guys running the steers.

(All my own horse ever wants to do is walk, maybe trot.  She fights me to get her to lope.  But we’re working on that.  It would help if I would get out to ride her more often.  That’s a whole other story.)

“C’mon,” said the Cowboy.  “Just chase one out, see what it feels like, you don’t have to even have a rope” he added, as he walked me over and into the ‘box’.  I tried backing Roper in, kind of.  Didn’t feel good about it.  And walked him out.

“Not ready for that,” I nervously smiled and said to the Cowboy.  He laughed.

…………….

‘What is it, about roping that has so many people seemingly addicted to it,’ I asked the Cowboy Sunday night after we had both returned home, my daughter was asleep in bed and I had originally sat down to write this.

“It’s competitive,” he replied.  “And it’s kind of addicting.  Rodeo is addicting.  The people, the competition.  The gambling.  It’s like gambling, only you have some control over it.”

He laughed.

“Well, in theory you do.  Have control over it.  You put the money up and you win if you do well.  But you have two horses, two cowboys and one steer.  A lot can go wrong with that.  But if it goes right, it’s great.”

The Cowboy used to practice two to three hours a day .. and have a ranking most others strive for, I believe.

While he’s removed himself the past couple years through life changes from the rodeo circuit for the most part .. and says he doesn’t miss the 10 hour drive to get somewhere, the money it takes on gas and to enter, having to win and knowing if he didn’t the truck payment wouldn’t get made that month ..

He still loves the sport.

And says one of his favorite things now, is helping others learn.

Learn how to get along better with their horse .. how to use their rope better .. how to win more when they do enter.

This past weekend must have been a win for everyone .. because there’s already an invite for next year’s clinic.  Same time .. same place ..

Next clinic:  next weekend in Wisconsin.

(And I’m thinking I might put down the camera long enough to try a little ground work with the rope, get going on that yearlong or lifelong project to learn this sport, myself.)