Fair Time

Yay! They brought back "mutton-bustin" this year, and it was a hit. This
is the all-time champion. Her first one fouled her at the gate so she got a
reride. The little girl was Anna, and she rode that sheep clear across the arena.

I love a County Fair. It's still about community. A gathering place for family, friends and neighbors at the end of summer. Carnival lights and Karaoke, horses, cowboys, and kids. 4-H concession stand. Friendly competiion. A goal to work for the rest of the year.

Anna's last 4-H pig a few years back. The other 2 usually took steers, but Anna
loved her pigs. They actually were pretty fun. Nothing like
"pig personality"!

During the kids 4-H years we should have just moved to town that week. Crazy, wild, hectic. It's really more enjoyable now that we can just cruise at our own speed, come and go as we please. Eat fair food instead of packing a cooler in the tack room. At least I can. Ray's been on the Fair Board for years, and is probably there more now than when the kids were little.

The only thing I entered this year was the Team Sorting, and had a blast. I love my little mare! There were 8 or 9 teams that got a time out of 79 entered. I was on two of them. I got skunked last year, so that made my day. Saturday night we were invited to sit on the stage for the rodeo.

We live in Madison County now, so we'll have a new County Fair. I love it too. We've participated in different things there throughout the years, and I've worked as a judge there for the past few years as well, so we know lots of people here already.

I never took my camera this year. That was a mistake, because I saw some really good photo ops. Ray said I could use his, the one that resides fulltime in his truck.. He couldn't get it to work, but maybe I could. Hmm. Not even I can revive dead batteries. So... I'll just use what I can find in a hurry: more mutton bustin!

Anna's last ride. Kid's have to graduate after they're 8 yrs. old.



But Anna had lots of competition, including Kristy. This was Kristy's
last year riding sheep as well.

Flashbacks

You take what you can get when you're out in the middle of nowhere. Since

I didn't know the "Wedding March", I played "Amazing Grace" at Dick and Jay's 1986

cowcamp wedding. My kids were in the "nursery". (Folded down club cab seat)

Moving means going through everything. I'd do better if I'd just pitch boxes that haven't been opened since 3 or 4 moves ago! But they might contain treasures, or maybe my mat cutting board that seemed to have disappeared the last move. For sure they contain distracting... Flashbacks.

1986. Manager, Marion Cross, our Preacher, Steve Sturgeon, the bride and

groom, Julia and Dick Slater, Dean Deide, and...oops, senior moment...

I have found pictures I forgot I had. Priceless treasures. Funny, cute, horrible, crazy.  The other day the girls were looking at old photos with 2-yr old Braxton. I only caught a small snippet of the conversation, but it went something like this: Kristy, "Who's that?" Braxton's reply: "Anna".

 I didn't realize it, but he was looking at a picture of ME, Grandma. I'm flattered. At least Anna didn't freak out! It must have been an OLD one!

I used to sew. I came down to headquarters one night when Ray was

gone, and sewed these shirts at the kitchen table. Until 5 a.m. Guess it's
a good thing I was there. I emptied the same mousetrap 5 times that night.

Ray's been building fence, and getting ready to build an arena. Today I was going through some 1986 photos and found the ground-breaking pictures of our cowcamp arena. He's built an arena every place we've ever lived. Sometimes with help, but usually by himself.

Don Reese, Dean Deide, Clyde Kenyon, Dick Slater, and Ray
building arena at cowcamp, 1986.

At Sage Creek he turned the old lambing pen into an arena and built a roping chute.I gut bucked off there when Ray's hat flew off in front of my high strung mare. Clayton was about 3 months old, and our irrigators, Jose' and his two sons, were watching him while they watched us rope. I'll never forget as I lay there trying to pry my lungs open, how concerned they were:  "Esposa! Esposa! they yelled at Ray as he thundered on down the arena. They got to me before he did.

 At headquarters we picked rocks--and rocks--and more rocks,  in the rockiest corner pen of the feedlot. He built roping boxes and another chute. It seemed to hatch rocks everytime we used it, so mostly the kids practiced gymkhana events there where we could just clear paths instead of the whole arena.

At summer cowcamp he and the crew fenced a pen behind the barn, plowed up the sod, built roping boxes--and another roping chute. Ray and I leased a few longhorns for practice, but they had way too much to eat and ran like racehorses. Ray's heading horse was about the only one that could catch them, so we ended up putting the neck ropes on in the chute so at least the horses would figure out how to handle a rope, and that the object of the game was not just to thunder down the arena.

The very first time we used it I was ready with my camera. First I had secured my children, 1, 3, and 4. Or at least I thought I had. I had given 3-yr old Kristy a peanut butter & jelly sandwich and set her up on her old faithful horse, Old Yeller. I parked them in a corner out of the way, then went out to the middle of the arena to take photos.

I was focused on the header and heeler, but before I even realized what had happened, Old Yeller blew by me. Kristy was laying flat on her back, her PBJ still in her hand, trying to get the wind back that had been knocked out of her.

I didn't know Yeller had been a rope horse in his day! I guess even horses have flashbacks.

Breaking Out

Moving. I moved six times before marrying Ray, and even though we've spent our entire 30 years of married life on the ranch he just retired from, we moved four times there--not including moving back and forth to cowcamp for five summers when the kids were little.

I should have it down pat. But I don't. I hate it just as much now as I ever did. But, there's finally light at the end of the tunnel. We're at the "putting away" stage, and things are starting to find their place. Ray built steps off the front covered deck, and is trying to figure out how he's going to build fence. The corner he started in is a bit... gravelly. Hopefully the irrigated acreage is a little easier digging!

We took a much needed break tonight and went team-roping in our new neighborhood. It took us all of 10 minutes to get there. Love it! Sure beats one hour and 10 minutes, and the rough, tire-eating, 10 miles of gravel we used to drag the trailer over coming and going.

But the best part is, I got up my courage and entered my first team-roping in about 18 years. I didn't plan on it. My spurs and gloves aren't unpacked yet. Flash only had 3 total runs on her during practice at Leadore, and I just took her along because she needed rode. But we entered the Rookie roping. We even got a time, and Flash took her first "hit" that wasn't from branding. I'm tickled. We're breaking out!

There were 122 teams in the main roping, and Ray ended up fourth, heeling on Skipper. He's tickled too! I just love how God give us "handfuls of purpose" just to give us a lift when things threaten to bog us down. He's done that a lot lately. 

 

 

Ready to Dance

We've worked feverishly on our new place this week getting it ready. All the wood finish is done, and I re-varathaned the circular sawn flooring on the way out last night. Gorgeous! It's big enough to have a dance on! I'm ready! Anyway, we should be moved before the end of this week. I'm excited.

 

 

 

The West I Love





The guy singing and playing also happens to be Idaho's

Governor, Butch Otter.



Who needs a bat and ball!



I don't know why, but it always amazes me when we run into people who, regardless of their walk in life, still embody the spirit of the American West. Down-to-earth, genuine, practical, conservative, friendly, and neighborly, with an independent streak. They look you in the eye while giving you a firm handshake. They've got an honest smile, a twinkle in the eye, a sense of humor-- and an unapologetic appetite for beef!
 
We've just spent three wonderful days over the hill on a ranch in Idaho, with a group of people that embodied that very spirit. Some were genuine cowboys. Some were in other occupations, but were weekend cowboys, or just plain cowboys at heart. But every last one of them had a passion for our western lands and cowboy heritage.

 We went over to do a pitchfork fondue. But in addition to our pot setup, we loaded our horses and got in on everything from the practice roping, the main roping, and the conservation tour, to the open range branding on a little bunch of Longhorn/Corrientes.

I took my camera of course. Now I've got about a thousand photos to sort. We also closed on our new place just before we left, so the next couple of weeks are going to be crazy. There's a lot of finish work to be done before we can move. Please be patient if you are in the photos. I'll skim the top so I can at least post some highlights on Flickr, and link a slideshow from this blog.

Thank you Tyler family for your warm and generous western hospitality. We had a hoot!



Karl and Donna



Conservation Enhancement Tour



Moving On

Drifter - We bought him for me 9 years ago. He had his quirks, but he was
a good one. Too good to stand around. Sold him this weekend. It was a

good sale to a good owner. Sold Jet too. We're keeping five horses.

The longer I know my Savior, the more I look back and realize just how gracious and merciful God is towards His children. How He has guided our steps the whole way-- even those times when we thought we were the ones at the steering wheel. There are no coincidences with God, and no surprises. He knows everything about us and our life before we're even a twinkle in Daddy's eye.

Saying goodby to something that has defined a major part of your life for so many years is never easy. It doesn't matter if it's a death, a marriage, a home, a job you've loved, or whatever it is that stirs your passion. It's hard.

But life goes on. It always has. And, quite often, the best is yet to come. The Hebrews wandered 40 years in the wilderness before reaching the promised land. Even at that, the only ones from that generation who got to go in were Caleb and Joshua who believed God was able to conquer it before them. None of the rest, the whiners, complainers, and naysayers, ever got to see it. We've wandered around here for 37 years. If this has been wilderness, I can't wait to see the promised land!

Lot's wife looked back as the angels pulled her and her husband away from her home. She turned into a pillar of salt. Life as we've known it may be over-- but what a privilege to have ever had it in the first place. It's time to move on and trust that God knows exactly what He's doing. It ain't over 'til it's over!

Lord, please don't let me become a cowlick!

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not on thine own understanding.”
 

 

*****

Jet - Ray bought him about 4 years ago with hopes of turning him into a
heading horse. Don't know if he'll ever make a head horse, but he was
making a top-notch ranch horse. We've still got Barney--and a really nice

3-yr. old colt that needs the attention. Happy Trails, boys!

Jaws Hates Cows, part 2

Todd on top of mountain waiting for rest
of herd before making push over ridge
coming off top.

 ...the herd was lined out nicely along the fence. Kyle was ahead of me, near the top of a rise, when I heard, "Oh, sh--!" ... Then Kyle shouted something else. I only caught one word: "Jaws!" I knew we were in trouble. At the top of the rise where there should have been tails, was a sea of faces. The entire lead was coming back on top of us in full stampede with that sorry yellow bird-dog of Todd's romping down the middle like a fox in a pen of chickens... (end part 1)


Nobody wants to be the cause of a wreck, be it himself, his kids, or his dog, and I think Todd, being the boss, was a bit embarrassed. I'll never forget looking over at him gripping that big yellow dog. He sat there for a minute, then this big grin spread across his face. In that characteristic slow drawl of his, he summed it up in typical cowboy fashion: "Jaws hates cows."

It was too soon to be funny, but after awhile I couldn't help giggling to myself as I imagined how the whole scenario would have looked to someone sitting up on the side of the mountain. And though it would have been nice to have Ray's help, it was probably just as well that Ray had missed out on this particular adventure.

As we sat there letting the herd settle, Todd's oldest son drove up, and sheepishly came to retrieve the dog--letting us know that it was little brother who had let him escape in the first place.

I was really dreading the hard part now. Entering the canyon, the narrow road is squeezed between a sharp drop-off on the left, with a boggy pond in the bottom; and on the right, the slope steepens to the point where you have to step off your horse on the wrong side, and leave him tied to a scraggly sage brush while you scramble the last 50 feet or so to the fenceline on foot.

The narrow little gate is open, and right in front of the yearlings on the road. But all they see is that old white toilet placed at the side by the eccentric owner as a tongue-in-cheek "Rest Area". That's all the excuse silly yearlings need to bolt. Usually up that steep slope. I've never seen anyone nimble enough to get them all turned back. The escapees have to be retrieved at a later time.

I don't know why, and I sure never would have believed it. Maybe the earlier excitement had taken off their edge. But we got the heifers through the gate and on up the mountain that day better than I've ever seen it done.

A couple years later Jaws tangled with a wolf when Todd's wife and the dogs were out walking. I can picture Jaws tearing back to Rita with the wolves in hot pursuit. I have a sneaking hunch Jaws wasn't totally innocent.

Todd's got a good cow dog, Max, but for some reason he had a soft spot for that renegade bird dog. I wasn't exactly sympathetic when Jaws died, but I did refrain from any smart remarks. Now Todd's got a new chocolate lab bird-dog puppy.

I hope he calls him Teddy Bear.

S. Marxer, © 2010

Ray, Jake, Jason, and Sandee bringing heifers off top, 2009

Jaws Hates Cows (part 2)