Just Another Day

Come rain or shine.
sleet or snow,
and of course, the wind;
We’ll get these dogies branded boys,
and to the Valley sent.

We’ve been around
a year or two and
we can git er’ done.
We’ll screw our hats down into lock,
and then we’ll have some fun.

We’ll put the wind
at our backs,
and power up our swing.
And our ponies ain’t no pampered pets,
they’ve seen most everything.

And pretty quick
we’ll be done.
It’s the cowboy way.
We’ll go and gather another bunch,
cuz tomorrow’s another day.

© S. Marxer 2011

Happy Birthday Cowboy!

I did it! I just put Ray's favorite Chocolate Chip Date Cake in the oven. Left-handed, and even got the mess cleaned up. Well, actually it's my favorite. He likes his mom's—which is excellent, but I prefer my sister's recipe because half the choc chips and some sugar are sprinkled on top and make a nice crunchy sweet topping. Sorry Dear, but I'm the cook, and I don't plan on letting you eat the whole thing by yourself.

I am so glad his mom and dad didn't stop at three. I really don't know where I'd be without him. He is definitely the better half, and we are attached at the very roots.

In 1980 I was beginning to despair of ever finding Mr. Right. I wanted to have my kids before I was 30, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd even be married by then. Finally, after looking in all the wrong places, I went to the one I should have started with. I told my Heavenly Father that I knew He made everybody, and that He must've made someone for me-- please, just show me where he is. Then I had the audacity to lay out my list of requirements.

Sure enough, two months later I transferred with my job to a different part of the state. I had been there only 3 or 4 weeks— just long enough to hear all about the cowboys at a certain ranch-- and it wasn't good. I'd even met one who was the epitome of “rude, crude, with an attitude”, who totally confirmed what I'd heard.

The first time I met Ray we hit it off. We were talking away like old friends, when he happened to tell me where he worked. The warning bells went off-- it was that ranch! I refused to tell him my last name. Only that I was Sue.

He's never been a quitter. He had a friend who knew a friend of mine. He called me. I turned him down. I had something in the works already. Next week, he called again. It was opening day of hunting, and I already had plans. Next week, he called again. I agreed to go out to dinner with him.

Two weeks later he asked me to marry him. I said, YES!

That was over 30 years ago. We didn't tell anyone except his boss for a couple months because we didn't want people thinking we were jumping into anything. We got married four months later.

I appreciate the fact that Ray never considered himself “God's gift to women”. But my dear husband, I want you to know that you are, without a doubt, God's gift to me. Right down to the very last detail on my little list, and so much more. I wish you the happiest of birthdays. And thank you for never giving up on me.

“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think... Unto him be glory... Eph 3:20-21

Outta Here!

Well, here I sit. Pecking away with my left hand, and the pointer finger of my right. Barely into branding season, and I broke the little bone on the outside of my right hand. I was roping the last set which is always the wildest. One big calf had escaped my loop twice already. I finally got off a good shot and went hard to my saddlehorn for the dally.

I knew I'd picked up a cow's foot too, but I was NOT going to let him get away again. Not smart. She jerked my hand pretty hard. I wouldn't admit it was broken. I couldn't swing my rope, so I got off and ran a branding iron. I knew. I would have to go see Doc when we got done, but I didn't let on. It took me out for the whole season. I am bummed.

It's been a tough couple of weeks. On top of other issues, I learned an uncle, dad's brother died. Friday a fine family man and friend not much older than us died of horse-related injuries, and Monday my dad's sister, my favorite aunt died, and Dad had another stent put in.

I had to dope up on pain pills Wednesday so they could set my hand and cast it, so Ray drove me in. We've been fighting pink-eye in a couple sets of calves, and he was having trouble with his eyes gooping up. I told him he might as well go get that checked instead of sitting around waiting on me. Sure enough, he's got the worst case of pink-eye the doc's ever seen, and a horrific sinus infection to top it off. Got some antibiotics and went right back to it.

We're behind in branding, and we're short-handed. I'll probably start again next week since there's still at least 3 jobs I can do. Big Jake left last week. I don't blame him, and I wish them well.

Tomorrow's Ray's birthday. Tomorrow's also supposedly the end of the world.

That would be Ok with me. I'm ready. It's totally impossible though. Yes, Christ could definitely return. I wish He would. I expect Him anytime. But according to God's Word, even if Christ were to come tomorrow and take the believers out, there's still seven more years of troubles like the earth has never known that will take place before the end.

I need to look up and count my innumerable blessings, and quit dwelling on my petty troubles which, but for the grace of God could be a whole lot worse. “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing...a helper He amidst the flood; of mortal ills prevailing...”

Ray's been here 37 years, and managing the whole shebang for the last 20. I've been here 30 years. Riding out the inevitable corporate restructuring cycles. We've been talking for several months about retiring from this company...and I'm thinking...it's getting to be about that time.

Grit, Grime, Rope and Smoke

Disclaimer: For sake of simplicity, the use of “cowboy” in my blogs refers to anyone
who is doing ranch work horseback.

It’s that time of year again. The favorite time of year for any ranch cowboy:  Branding season.

It’s long. We start the first week of May and hope to end around the first of July. If the weather cooperates.

It’s hard. Very physically demanding. Wrestling fighting, kicking, calves, walking untold miles on uneven dirt surfaces, bending over thousands of times, and dealing with wind, rain, and heat, often all in the same day.

And it’s fun. Much like fly fishermen practicing “catch and release”. Roping is a skill. A passion. And a cowboy can’t get enough of it.

It’s also an opportunity to develop young horses and take them to the next level. Just about every situation they will ever encounter will take place during branding season. Gathering, sorting, pulling weight, ground activity, ropes, waspy calves on the ends of those ropes, and just good old wet saddle blankets.

The other monotonous procedures which are not so fun, are easier to put up with as long as a cowboy knows at some point he will get to give his feet a rest, and put his roping arm to work. Those family members who show up to help, and rarely, or never rope, are dedicated heroes who have my utmost appreciation.

Branding and associated tasks are a vital part of ranch management. The brand itself is very necessary. It’s a permanent, visible, mark of ownership.

A brand is a cow’s return address should she stray onto someone else’s range, or wander over the top of the unfenced mountain range into Idaho. Any cattle being sold or moved in the state of Montana are required by law to be brand inspected.

The entire branding process, from the time a calf is roped, to the time it's released to return to the herd, is about 60 seconds. Brands do not break the tough hide on a calf, in fact the hair grows back.

We branded close to 1,000 calves this week. When they are small, we rope them around the neck, and a team of wrestlers, or flankers, will hold the calf on the ground so the ground crew can safely perform their work.

We will probably start using nordforks before the next week is over. Nordforks are a simple u-shaped metal contraption, with a straight handle, attached to a stake in the ground by rope tied to several layers of innertube. It's a much simpler, safer way to brand larger calves.

Both hind feet are roped, and the calf is dragged to one of the open nordforks. A ground crew member drops the u-shaped collar over the back of the calf's neck while the roper continues forward momentum until the band attached to the stake becomes tight. The feet are held by the roper until it's time to turn the calf losse.

The method allows for a smaller crew, less injuries, and less stress on the calf as well as the crew. And after two months of grit, grime, rope, and smoke; anything to make the job a little easier is most welcome.
 

 

My Home, Montana

Is it just imagination

or is it really true,

that Montana mountains touch the sky

and skies are deeper blue?

That cowboys here are genuine,

the horses tough and fast,

the range both harsh and gentle,

and the open space is vast?

That people look you in the eye,

their smile is sincere,

That God and country, family and home

are the things they hold most dear?

Of all the places I have been,

and experience I have known,

there's nothing as close to Heaven

as this place that I call "Home".

© S. Marxer, 2003