I made friends with a crusty, eclectic, kind-hearted, old-but-not-that-old cowboy/horseman.
I learned how to patch a hole in a barbed-wire fence, attach fencing clips, drive a tractor, grade a road, drive a t-post at an angle, and work cattle with border collies.
I was hired for a new position with a nonprofit agency and started a weekly class (in which I am the only female) at church.
All of these things have happened in the past week.
It was quite the week.
I feel like there is plenty to say about everything listed above, but I am having trouble figuring out how to start.
Did you know there is a way to tell how respected and appreciated you are by a cowboy/horseman? All you have to do is listen to how they address you. For example, last Friday I started the morning as "ma'am", was "hon" by noon, and ended the day as "darlin'".
Chuck has a good friend named Gary. Gary is ex-Army, ex-pro bull rider, current school administrator, and, just for kicks, an ordained Lutheran minister who specializes in cowboy weddings. Seriously. Even if I really tried I would never in a million years be able to create a character like Gary. He is certainly unique.
Gary came over last week to give us a hand with some fence repairs before the branding. He arrived just as we were getting ready to eat breakfast, so I offered him a plate. He turned me down with a "no thank you, ma'am." I asked if he was sure and assured him we had plenty. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." He did take me up on my offer of coffee. "Thank you kindly, ma'am." I felt like I had stepped back in time to the 1800s, but I got a kick out of it and knew that he was being genuinely polite and respectful. I don't understand women who get upset by being called ma'am. So long as the term is not said in a mocking or patronizing manner who cares?
Anyway, after we finished our breakfast, Chuck, Gary, and I headed out to the first (and biggest) hole in the South fence line. I had spotted the hole the day before while rounding up about 20 head of cattle that were on the wrong side of the pasture fence. Because I knew exactly where it was we headed there right away. Chuck and Gary talked about the best way to patch the hole and then Gary and I did the actual patching since Chuck is still recovering from back surgery and this particular hole was down in an arroyo. Both Chuck and Gary taught me the particulars of fencing and it wasn't long before we were done with the patch and heading off to the next trouble spot.
The next set of fixes required moving strands of barbed-wire and replacing fence clips. Chuck showed me how he likes his fences and clips to look and then I went to work on my own section. Gary passed by me a few times and occasionally put a tool in my back pocket or commented on how well I was putting on the clips. It was during one of these moments that I realized I had been upgraded to "hon".
Gary and Chuck drove about 10-15 new posts and Dad and I followed up with straightening out the wire and attaching the clips. Most of the posts were driven with the bucket of the tractor, but the last post of the day was set at an angle. The tractor was no use so we had to drive the post in my hand. Gary held the post for me and got it angled correctly and I used the post driver to pound it in.
(Side note, if you've never driven a t-post by hand you have no idea what serious exertion it requires. Do that all day and you'll never have the need to set foot in a gym.)
I drove that post all by myself and we finished with stringing the wire. Once that was complete we were done for the day. As we wrapped everything up Gary informed me I was a "good hand" and, as he was climbing in his truck, called out, "See you tomorrow, darlin'!" I'd moved up again!
Gary and I ended up working together during the branding, mugging calves and making sure gates were in the right positions at the right times. One of my favorite moments of the whole day happened after we had run a few more calves through to last holding corral before they would be put on the calf table. Gary and I were walking back to the gate we were leaning on as we watched the branding when Gary threw his arm around me, hauled me in for a huge one-arm bear hug, and sung out, "How you doing, darlin'?" Even as that whole thing was happening I was seeing it in my head like a scene out of a movie. I knew I had made a buddy and I also knew that to be considered Gary's buddy is quite the honor and compliment.
It was wonderful to visit the ranch again. Chuck has established himself in a small corner of the Garden of Eden. The land, the animals, and even all of the chores, come together to create a special kind of paradise. I look forward to many more visits in the coming years.
I am sure I will have a lot to report about my new job and the class I am taking at church, but those topics are for future posts. For now,
Love!
~g
Friday, September 23, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Vacation!!!!! (Part 1)
I am currently enjoying my first-ever PAID vacation! After nearly two years of solid work with only long weekends as my breaks, I finally requested some time off. After schedule coordinating with Dad and Jody, I decided a trip to Colorado was in order. It's been too long since I have had some real mountain time. Additionally, the dates I was looking at for my vacation coincided with the fall branding at the ranch, which I was able to help with last year. Everything fell into place so the tickets were bought and the days anxiously counted down.
Yesterday morning, September 10, I was up bright and early. I got ready for a day of travel, finished packing my bag, then drove to Minneapolis to catch the first of two flights that would eventually deliver me to Grand Junction. I was a bit hesitant about traveling on the weekend of the 10th anniversary of the September 11 terrorists attacks, but was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly security moved. There were definitely more security officers present than the last time I flew, but other than that there was no definite difference in how everything operated. I was through security in a matter of minutes, which gave me time to grab some lunch before boarding the flight that delivered me to Dallas/Fort Worth.
The flight was nothing special, save for the B2 bomber that flew remarkably close to our plane. I had a window seat (I always have a window seat when I fly) and was just sitting looking out when all of the sudden a Stealth Bomber appeared underneath us, heading in a perpendicular direction. I did a double take and was saying aloud, "That's a B2!" when the captain came over the intercom with, "If you'll look out the left side of the plane...." By the time people could look, though, the B2 was gone, probably heading off to buzz a couple of football games.
We arrived in Dallas half an hour early, which normally would be awesome, but it only added to my layover time in the airport. With the early arrival, I ended up with 3.5 hours to kill before boarding the plane to Grand Junction. I found the concourse I needed and spent some time in a very comfy recharging lounge. While I sprawled out in a leather chair, my phone was plugged in and getting charged up. I gave it about an hour then went in search of some food. I walked practically the entire concourse before deciding upon a buffalo chicken wrap (which was really quite tasty). After eating I headed back to my gate to just sit and wait. I ended up talking to several older women who were also waiting for the Grand Junction plane. One of them was frankly kind of annoying, but the other woman was quite sweet. We had a good conversation, which helped the time pass quicker.
While waiting at the gate my attention kept getting drawn back to a soldier in full uniform sitting directly in my line of sight. One could tell just by looking at him that he was exhausted. He kept readjusting his position and falling back asleep, only to jerk awake and readjust again. When the call came to board the plane he was one of the first in line. By the time I boarded he was once again fast asleep, this time in the seat across the row from me.
The first 45 minutes or so of the trip the soldier kept doing the fall-asleep-jerk-awake routine. During one of his waking moments I leaned over and asked if he wanted a shoulder to sleep on (there was no one in the seat next to me) or my sweatshirt to use as a pillow. He declined both with a smile and found a new position to try to sleep in. He lasted about 10 minutes before he was stretching and grimacing. At that point I just threw my sweatshirt at him. He looked at me like I was crazy for a second, so I motioned him to use it as a pillow. He didn't argue further with me. Instead, he made himself a pillow, found a comfortable position, and didn't move for the rest of the flight.
He and I deplaned together. He thanked me for the pillow, I thanked him for his service, and we parted ways. I found out later from Dad and Jody that the soldier was returning home from 6 months in Afghanistan. No wonder the poor man was so tired!
I have found myself thinking about that soldier a lot on this infamous anniversary. It seems unreal that it has already been 10 years since we were brutally attacked on our native soil. In many ways, the lessons of that day have been forgotten and we have once again slipped into a misguided sense of invincibility and complacency. What grieves me most, though, is the sense of normalcy we have attributed to having massive numbers of troops deployed in foreign conflicts.
I am just as guilty as the rest of us. I go about my daily life and often do not think about all of the fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, husbands and wives, daughters and sons, friends and grandparents that have a loved one serving overseas. I go days without thinking about all of the men and women so far from home, putting themselves in constant danger for me. For you.
That soldier yesterday was a reminder to me to look beyond myself and remember the sacrifices so many have made and continue to make for the security of us all. I challenge you to do the same. That's all I have to say in regards to this particular day.
Tomorrow is a day of errands before Monday Night Football (Broncos v. Raiders at Mile High...woot!). It should be a good time. Then off to Denver before heading to the ranch. More vacation updates, complete with pictures, to come.
In the meantime, much love to you all!
~g
Yesterday morning, September 10, I was up bright and early. I got ready for a day of travel, finished packing my bag, then drove to Minneapolis to catch the first of two flights that would eventually deliver me to Grand Junction. I was a bit hesitant about traveling on the weekend of the 10th anniversary of the September 11 terrorists attacks, but was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly security moved. There were definitely more security officers present than the last time I flew, but other than that there was no definite difference in how everything operated. I was through security in a matter of minutes, which gave me time to grab some lunch before boarding the flight that delivered me to Dallas/Fort Worth.
The flight was nothing special, save for the B2 bomber that flew remarkably close to our plane. I had a window seat (I always have a window seat when I fly) and was just sitting looking out when all of the sudden a Stealth Bomber appeared underneath us, heading in a perpendicular direction. I did a double take and was saying aloud, "That's a B2!" when the captain came over the intercom with, "If you'll look out the left side of the plane...." By the time people could look, though, the B2 was gone, probably heading off to buzz a couple of football games.
We arrived in Dallas half an hour early, which normally would be awesome, but it only added to my layover time in the airport. With the early arrival, I ended up with 3.5 hours to kill before boarding the plane to Grand Junction. I found the concourse I needed and spent some time in a very comfy recharging lounge. While I sprawled out in a leather chair, my phone was plugged in and getting charged up. I gave it about an hour then went in search of some food. I walked practically the entire concourse before deciding upon a buffalo chicken wrap (which was really quite tasty). After eating I headed back to my gate to just sit and wait. I ended up talking to several older women who were also waiting for the Grand Junction plane. One of them was frankly kind of annoying, but the other woman was quite sweet. We had a good conversation, which helped the time pass quicker.
While waiting at the gate my attention kept getting drawn back to a soldier in full uniform sitting directly in my line of sight. One could tell just by looking at him that he was exhausted. He kept readjusting his position and falling back asleep, only to jerk awake and readjust again. When the call came to board the plane he was one of the first in line. By the time I boarded he was once again fast asleep, this time in the seat across the row from me.
The first 45 minutes or so of the trip the soldier kept doing the fall-asleep-jerk-awake routine. During one of his waking moments I leaned over and asked if he wanted a shoulder to sleep on (there was no one in the seat next to me) or my sweatshirt to use as a pillow. He declined both with a smile and found a new position to try to sleep in. He lasted about 10 minutes before he was stretching and grimacing. At that point I just threw my sweatshirt at him. He looked at me like I was crazy for a second, so I motioned him to use it as a pillow. He didn't argue further with me. Instead, he made himself a pillow, found a comfortable position, and didn't move for the rest of the flight.
He and I deplaned together. He thanked me for the pillow, I thanked him for his service, and we parted ways. I found out later from Dad and Jody that the soldier was returning home from 6 months in Afghanistan. No wonder the poor man was so tired!
I have found myself thinking about that soldier a lot on this infamous anniversary. It seems unreal that it has already been 10 years since we were brutally attacked on our native soil. In many ways, the lessons of that day have been forgotten and we have once again slipped into a misguided sense of invincibility and complacency. What grieves me most, though, is the sense of normalcy we have attributed to having massive numbers of troops deployed in foreign conflicts.
I am just as guilty as the rest of us. I go about my daily life and often do not think about all of the fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, husbands and wives, daughters and sons, friends and grandparents that have a loved one serving overseas. I go days without thinking about all of the men and women so far from home, putting themselves in constant danger for me. For you.
That soldier yesterday was a reminder to me to look beyond myself and remember the sacrifices so many have made and continue to make for the security of us all. I challenge you to do the same. That's all I have to say in regards to this particular day.
Tomorrow is a day of errands before Monday Night Football (Broncos v. Raiders at Mile High...woot!). It should be a good time. Then off to Denver before heading to the ranch. More vacation updates, complete with pictures, to come.
In the meantime, much love to you all!
~g
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