COOKING FROM SCRATCH

            We had company a couple of weeks ago, our daughter Chris and her family. While they were here I fixed sloppy joes. She put a note on Facebook about that and another daughter stated that I  “made awesome” sloppy joes. It reminded me of a comment a friend of ours made at one time. (This friend has since moved, so don’t any of you wives wonder if it was your husband!) He said, “My wife is not a good cook. But I know that when our children are raised they will all say what a wonderful cook their mother was. That is the great thing about children.”

            So I don’t get a big head when my children praise me for my cooking, because I know I’m not a good cook, but they don’t know that! I cook plain but filling meals. With seven children my thought as a mother was quantity. When we had four teenagers I had to cook big harvest-size meals, and during the summer that was three times a day.

            My mother was an excellent cook, at least her children always thought so. I have some of her recipes and use them at times. She, too, was a basic cook. This reminds me of another story I heard years ago:

            A young girl  was visiting with her grandmother. Grandma fixed dinner and served cake for dessert. “What cake mix did you use for this cake?” the granddaughter asked. “It is the best cake I’ve ever eaten.”

“I didn’t use a cake mix,” Grandma answered. “I made it from scratch.”

Scratch? The granddaughter didn’t ask what that was, but decided to find out. When Grandma went to bed that night, granddaughter went through the kitchen cupboards to find a box of “scratch.” She found a container with flour, one with sugar, some boxes with things that were labeled baking powder and baking soda, but no scratch. She checked the fridge and even the freezer. No scratch.

The next day grandma sent granddaughter to the grocery store for some milk. While there the granddaughter looked for scratch on all the shelves up and down the aisles. Finally she asked one of the workers at the store if they had any scratch.

“I’ve never seen scratch, what’s it used for?” asked the helper.

“Grandma used it to make a cake,” granddaughter replied.” So they went to the aisle where the baking supplies were, but no scratch.

“Why don’t you try the pharmacy next door?” the helper said.

So granddaughter went to the pharmacy.

“Scratch?” the pharmacist asked. “I don’t have anything here by that name. Maybe it goes by another name. Why don’t you try the health food store down the street?”

“Scratch? Never heard of it,” was her answer at the health food store.

“Maybe it’s something special she used to bake it in. There’s a store over on the next block that has baking pans. Maybe they would know.”

No help there either. When the granddaughter got back to grandma’s with the milk, grandma quizzed her on what had taken her so long. Granddaughter told grandma about her search for scratch. Grandma laughed so hard she had to sit down.

“Oh dear, I guess our generation is really different from yours,” she said. “Scratch is a term we use when we cook everything from basic ingredients, not from a mix. That’s the way I learned to cook and that’s the way I prefer to cook now.”

            In this day and age  I  have the best of both worlds available to me when it comes to cooking: when in a rush, I can cook from mixes and boxes, when I have the time I can cook from scratch – and know that my children will always think that I’m a good cook no matter what or how I cook. Life can’t get much better than that, can it?

OF MICE AND MEN

            I don’t like mice. Why anyone would even want to have one as a pet is beyond my understanding. Our son, Jon, had some white mice once. I’m sure I didn’t give him permission, but there they were in a cage in his bedroom. That was all fine and good until the day they got out. Fine and good no longer mattered, they were now rodents in my house and I had the right to kill them. I can’t remember if we set traps or if he finally found them and transported them somewhere else but they disappeared.

            I remember when my Dad had a mouse run up his pant leg while he was out working in the shop repairing some farm equipment. It didn’t take long for Dad to discard his pants, all the while dancing and hollering.

            One summer day when we were living at the ranch in Dehlin, my two oldest sons, then about the ages of four and five, were in the shed helping their Grandpa Schwieder. You can imagine how much help two that age would be. Well they came to the house and into the kitchen with their hands held cup like. “Look what we found Mom. Grandpa said to bring them in to show you.” In their hands were tiny, pink baby mice. They didn’t even have their eyes open. Now I really believe the boy’s grandfather was grinning out in the shed, just waiting to hear a scream from me and maybe even see me run from the house. Instead, I calmly looked at those two innocent boy’s cupped hands, being careful not to get too close, told them what cute baby mice they had, and said, “Now take them back out to Grandpa.” Grandpa never said a thing to me about that incident, but I think I disappointed him.

            We have had problems with mice in our house at the ranch all of the time, but traps would usually control them. I used to be really naïve, believing anything Boyd told me. “Don’t worry,” he said one night as we were in bed and could here mice running around, “they can’t climb up on the bed.” When one ran across my pillow, over my face and onto the window sill, I knew I had been deceived! Boyd calmly moved over to the window, which was on my side of the bed, closed the window, trapping the mouse between the window and screen, and figured he had the problem solved. He slept well that night, I didn’t. Next morning he opened the window, caught the mouse and escorted it outside. And I no longer believe everything he says.

            Another time, again at the ranch, we had been to the valley and when we got back we found the screen door hadn’t been shut tight. We had a lot of mice running through the house that evening. We handled this one differently: I laid on the couch on my stomach, while Boyd was on the floor with a BB gun and a flash light. When I saw a mouse run I pointed it out to Boyd and he would shine the flashlight in it’s eyes and shoot. He shot quite a few mice that night.

            We still get mice in the house at the ranch but with traps and DeCon, we seem to be able to control them. They like to move into the house in the late fall and stay all winter, besides running through during the summer.  We have had mice in our valley home, but not as often. And we have a cat that is a good mouser. Our dogs like to chase and catch mice also, so the mice have to be extra brave before they venture into the house. And then they have to face me, that person who hates mice.

TAILGATE PARTIES

          Boyd and I traveled to Boise to watch the Boise State/BYU football game this past week. I told Jon we were going early so we could go to Agri Beef’s tailgate party. Our daughter Chris works for Agri Beef and they always have really good food at their tailgate party, probably because they have their own brand of hamburger and hot dogs that they serve at their party. They also furnish bottled water to go with their meal. And it is all free.

            Our son Jon said we should stay away from the BYU tailgate parties because they would be having green Jell-O with grated carrots in it, five different recipes of funeral potatoes, rolls, and water to drink. Many different kinds of cake would be for dessert. I got thinking about that and thought I would enlarge my idea of what a BYU tailgate party might be like. Now I can do this as I am a Mormon and know all about the idiosyncrasies of the Mormon culture.

            The Elder’s Quorum would have been assigned to get the chairs and tables to the party, and then the Young Men’s organization (boys from age 12-18) would be in charge of setting those up. The Young Women’s organization (girls from 12-18) would be in charge of getting the tables clothes on the tables. The Relief Society (women from 18 on up) would have made the assignments for the food, and they would also make sure there were table decorations on each table. The Young Women would be called upon to take care of the children running around. They would gather them together and play games, read stories, and sing songs. The High Priests would be in charge of the opening and closing prayers. I’m not sure many of them would go to the football game, but they would enjoy the company of everyone and probably talk about anyone who wasn’t there, therefore they would have a big turnout. The women would also be there with their aprons on to serve the meal and to clean up the dishes afterwards.

It would be interesting to see how many different kinds of green Jell-O and grated carrots could be found at one of these parties. Each bowl fullwould look completely different from the others. And all of the women could be given the same recipe to follow for the funeral potatoes, but again every pan would look like a completely different recipe. It used to be that when there were rolls at these parties, they were always homemade. Not anymore, but they would still be good. And the cakes would be homemade, though from a cake mix.

The cleanup wouldn’t be too hard as they would use paper plates and cups, and plastic forks, knives, and spoons, and it wouldn’t take long as the Young Men and Elders would make quick work of folding up the tables and chairs and getting them in the pickups to take back to the church. Someone would have brought brooms, dustpans, mops, and buckets. When it was time to leave, things would look neat and clean as if nothing had taken place in their spot.

Well, we did go to Agri Beef’s tailgate party. They even had a TV on for those volunteers to watch the game while they worked. We didn’t even see a BYU tailgate party, so didn’t get to check it out to see if what I thought might be, actually was.

            

HANSEL AND GRETEL SYNDROME

I think if Hansel and Gretel had been wearing the kind of shoes my men wear, their dad would have been able to track them down very easily, even through leaves and grass.

I swear that my guys don’t take a step anywhere in the house but what a big glob of mud or manure, falls off their boots. I sweep, dust mop, vacuum, mop, pull my hair out and want to scream, but know that won’t help. And I don’t think they even realize the mess they leave behind with each step. Every step on the stairs coming up from the basement has a “glob.” Every step coming from the back porch into the kitchen has a “glob.” Plus every place else.

            Their shoes have the waffle type sole on them. And they all have them. If they would only take their shoes off on the back porch, or when they come in the basement door. But these are lace up boots, and it takes time to take them off and put them back on. Especially if all you are doing is going into the kitchen to get your little red book to check on the number of a cow or a calf, a 2 minute job at the most – compared to probably 5 minutes for taking shoes off and putting them back on. I realize there are shoes without that “waffle” type sole, but these are the ones my guys like. It is almost impossible to convince a man to try something different, especially if he is comfortable with what he has!

            And of course we have had a muddy late winter early spring time here, which doesn’t help the situation. A pull-on shoe would help, but have you ever tried to walk through the muck and mud out in the corral with a pull-on shoe, and lose the shoe in the muck? So that’s not a solution. We could have all the books out on the back porch where the guys come in, but we really don’t have that room set up for book work. I guess they could lean against the washing machine or dryer to do their checking in their books, but I’m not sure they would agree to that.

            An office out in the garage, where they would have a desk, a telephone, and even a bathroom connected is another idea. That would save a lot of scooping of muck in the house. But I would probably be expected to visit the garage/office quite often to clean it  and I already have a house bigger than I can or want to keep clean.

Maybe I need to invent a shoe that the guys could wear that wouldn’t leave so many clues as to where they have walked, perhaps one with a detachable sole that was easy to take off and put back on.

            When it comes right down to it, I do enjoy my men dropping in often and I do have rugs everywhere. They don’t always walk on the rugs, but I certainly encourage them too. Sometimes I have to shout to make them hear me about using rugs. But I have found that mud dries to dirt and dirt sweeps or vacuums up easily. Manure doesn’t dry to anything but manure and it sometimes sticks to floors and rugs. But rugs can be washed and floors can be mopped and the day may come when we won’t have mud and wet manure being brought into the house on the soles of shoes. Then there will be something else that I can find to complain about.

            Come to think of it, maybe Hansel and Gretel were probably wearing the waffle sole shoes and tracked mud into the witch’s house. No wonder she set them to cleaning her home! Now that’s an idea! Maybe I should have the guys clean up their own messes, because I certainly act like an old witch at times when the floor gets a lot of mud tracked on it.

           

BRANDING

Derrald, Jon, and Sydney - Branding

           Time to think about getting those new calves branded before we move them to their summer pasture. Branding day is usually a long, hard day for those involved in the process.. When our son, Derrald, picked the date for this year’s event, Skyler, our live-in grandson, wrote  Branding Party on our kitchen calendar.

            Not everyone would consider rounding up calves, separating them from their mamas, pushing calves through the corral and into the chute, getting manure all over your clothes as a “party” but Skyler does.

            And we have a lot of people who actually volunteer to help on this day. It’s interesting to see our volunteers and how they work:

• Lee, our unpaid hired man who comes every day and fusses over the calves as much as the mama’s do. Lee often is seen on his horse when the cows are moved from the back pasture toward the corral and he is one person who can rope if needed.
• Glenn, who has his oxygen tank hooked over his shoulder, oxygen tubes in his nose. His job has been to put the elastrator’s on the bull calves.
• Ken, who was 85 on his last birthday. His job is to help get those little “doggies” moving through the alley way so the branders can keep busy.
• Scottie, a truck driver for a potato warehouse and who keeps a few of his cows with ours during the summer. He works the branding chute, and that’s a hefty job, but Scottie is a hefty guy and perfectly capable of doing this.
• Craig who works at the INL, and also keeps some of his cows in our summer pasture. He’s out in the corral moving the calves toward the alley way.

And our not-so-volunteer group:

• Derrald, our son who is taking more and more responsibility with the cattle operation, usually works at the head end of the calf, giving shots if needed.
• Debbie, Derrald's, wife, who oversees the whole thing and keeps things moving.
• Jon, another son, who helps where ever he is needed.
• Boyd, who turned 74 recently, works in the corral separating cows from calves
• Jack, Boyd’s brother and partner. He is in charge of and does most of the actual branding.
• Spotty, our dog who encourages the calves to go through the correct gate when it’s released from the chute.
• We also often have nephews and grandchildren come to watch and/or help.

We have to keep Ken and Glenn separated, as those two argue about everything. If a calf comes through the alley way and Ken hollers to say it’s a heifer, Glenn would say it was a bull. If Glenn said the calf was black, Ken would say it was red. So to keep our records straight, we keep those two at opposite ends of the branding process.

My men are not ropers. You can’t expect guys who walk around with their shoes untied to be able to rope a calf, do you? And we don’t heat the branding irons in a fire anymore, but use electrically heated irons.

By the time everyone arrives, gets equipment assembled, brands heated, calves ready, it’s usually 10 a.m. before the actual branding begins. However, when it begins there are no breaks until the job is finished.

When the last calf is branded there are a bunch of tired, filthy dirty, stinky, and hungry people. That’s when I step in. If the day is warm I make sloppy joe’s and a salad and serve it outside. On cold days I fix soup or stew with hot rolls and they come into the house to eat.

Branding is a big day: one that grandkids like to come to; one that encourages a hot shower or bath and a good nights sleep afterwards; one that gives the workers a feeling of having accomplished something – of doing a necessary job and seeing it to completion.

After this day we look forward to moving the cattle to the ranch!

CHILDREN'S MEDICATION BOTTLES NOT CHILDPROFF

       “Child proof” lids are a thorn in my side. Most of our over-the counter and all of our prescriptions medications have these types of lids. Those lids are doubly challenging in that you have to push the lid down and while holding it down, turn the lid. For people with arthritis, even the pressure from pushing the lid down is hard, let alone trying to turn the lid at the same time. It is also difficult for those of us who are coordination challenged. Shoot, if I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, what makes a manufacturer think I can push and turn at the same time!

These’ child-proof” lids not as much “child-proof” as they are “elderly-proof”.  I really believe the elderly have a harder time opening their medications than children do.  I have found you can request your pharmacy to not have the “child-proof” lid, and this makes it much easier to open the bottles. And when I purchase over-the-counter medications, I leave those bottles in the cabinet with the lids off. Is that a safe practice? No! But I do this so I don’t have to struggle every time I need to take one of those pills. If I didn’t leave the lids off, I’d probably have a worse headache by the time I got the aspirin out of the bottle than I had before I tried to open the bottle.

And to add insult to injury, the over-the counter medications that don’t have the “child proof “lids have aluminum foil seals that aren’t easy to remove. I take a steak knife, puncture the seal, and then cut around the edge to get to the contents of the bottle.

Who came up with the idea of “child-proof” lids anyway? Could it have been a special marketing plan by some enterprising person that proved to be a lucrative venture? And they are not really “child proof.”

I was struggling with one of those “child-proof” lids not long ago. My grand-daughter, Sydney, was about six years old at the time, and I needed to give her some medicine. I couldn’t open the lid to that medicine, no matter how hard I tried. She watched me as I tried and finally said, “Here, Grandma, let me have it. I can open it.” And she opened it with no trouble whatsoever. Now that’s not what I’d call “child-proof”.

Is there a better solution to making our medicine cabinets safer when there are children in the house? If there is I can’t think of one. I do feel, however, that “child-proof” lids are not the answer as they seem to cause problems for too many other people.

            But this situation has made me wonder about the evolution of medicine for children. When I gave Sydney her medicine, it was liquid; I asked her if she needed a drink of water to rinse the taste away. “Oh, no, Grandma, it really tastes good.  I like it.”  I’ve noticed more and more that children’s medications are made to “taste good.”

            When we give them the medicine do we emphasize the “taste good” part of it or do we say “this will make you better?”   

            As our children were growing up, we didn’t have “taste good” medication.  I did as my own mother did; mash the pill between two spoons, add a bit of sugar and a drop or two of water to it, and administer it. “Just a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down,” was what Julie Andrews sang, and that is what we did. I can also remember some medication I took as a young child that was definitely “yucky”.

            “Child-proof” lids, aluminum foil seals, and “taste good” medications are probably here to stay. It is not only for the safety of our children, but for our own peace of mind. But I will still have my opened bottles of OTC medications; just put them up higher – out of small peoples reach.

BACKING UP A VEHICLE

         BACKING UP A VEHICLE  

Jean, out helping feed, driving the pickup

           Is it a gender thing or not? I cannot back up a car let alone a pickup, truck, or tractor, worth a darn. I’m told to turn left, I turn right, I’m told to go straight, I go crooked, I do stop when I’m told, but that’s about it. I can’t take instructions from looking in the rearview or side mirrors. When they signal me through those means, I always turn opposite from what I’m supposed to. I can’t even follow instructions if someone is standing in front of the vehicle and trying to direct me. The gestures they use don’t mean a thing to me. And I hear about my lack of ability to back up in not too pleasant of language.

            I’ve watched my men folk back up expertly from the time I was a teenager. I remember my brother’s backing up the truck loaded with sacks of potatoes into the cellar. They communicated with whistles. Out in the field, my Dad always communicated with whistling, so they picked it up from him. I don’t know what the signals were because I can’t whistle loud, but they knew, and they could back-up into the big black hole of a cellar without hitting any of the poles or the doors. I would probably have a problem driving forward and getting in straight!

            The other day I was backing out of the garage and forgot to open the garage door. The car was just creeping and I heard the noise just as the back of the car gently scraped the garage door, so there wasn’t any damage to either door or car, but it is another example of not being able to back up.

            Last summer when I was backing the car out of the garage, I was visiting with Jon, our son, while doing so. I noticed some men working in the yard waving their arms wildly just as Jon said “You’re going to hit it!” I threw on the brakes just as I hit a car parked behind me. The car wasn’t hurt, just a scratch because I wasn’t going that fast, but the young man who owned it started parking at a different spot.

            I watch Boyd back up to a trailer and he can come close to perfect the first try. I have been on the end guiding him the direction he should go. I’m not sure I’m worth having at that end of the back-up process either, but he hasn’t complained about that. However, he will often get out of the pickup to see where he is at while I am there guiding him. Kind of lets you know that I’m somewhat lacking in ability to not only back up but to give instructions.

            Boyd can back across the yard without a mishap. I can’t. My car, for some reason, doesn’t obey my commands when backing up and will go the wrong direction. Maybe if I could get a “voice command” car where I could say: “I want to back up straight toward that gate,” the car would follow my command. And it wouldn’t say “which gate?” or “why do you want to go that way when it would be simpler to go another way?”

            I can’t park the car in a horizontal parking place either. Probably because it entails backing up again. I think I’m turning the wheels the way they should go and I end up out in the middle of the street. I’ve found it’s easier to walk five or six blocks after finding an easy parking spot than trying to park horizontally.

            At the age I am, I don’t think I will ever learn how to back up. But I’m not ashamed to admit that I can’t do it and tell the guys to do it themselves rather than to put me through the turmoil of trying something impossible.

THE SIMPLOT GAMES

Skyler Young at a track meet in 2011

A couple of weeks ago we drove down to Pocatello to watch the Simplot Games track and field meet. What an inspiring day that was as we watched high school-age men and women compete. Those participants came from all over the United States and Canada. We witnessed sprinting, jumping, pole vaulting, and throwing the shot put. It was set up so that at least five events were going on simultaneously. If there was a lull in one event, there would be at least four other events to keep you interested. And there was the participants sitting in the bleachers that we could visit with and learn more about their experience in being involved in this event.

As one of the West’s premier high school track and field events, each year, on the third weekend in February, the Simplot Games offers high school athletes the opportunity to compete against the competitors in the U.S and Canada. Held at the Holt Arena on the campus of Idaho State University, this special 200 meter banked-board track is one of the fastest in the nation and one where records are broken each year.

In researching the Simplot Company, I found the following statements on their web site:

“We believe successful companies must be responsible members of society in other ways, too. Through such activities as our annual Simplot Games track meet, we regularly support a wide variety of needs in communities where we operate.”

“The J.R. Simplot Company, sponsor of the Games since 1979, is dedicated to providing a positive experience for all participants, and prides itself in putting on a meet that is well organized and officiated by a qualified professional staff.”

Some of the 2000 young athletes who take part in the Simplot Games each year go on to excel in college track and field. Others have been known to go on to the Olympics. But for everyone who competes, and everyone who observes, the Simplot Games provides special and rewarding experiences.

One of the new activities at the games this year was called “The Fast and the Farmers.” Sponsored by the J. R. Simplot Company, in a green booth next to the track and using special technology, athletes were able to have their pictures taken in different farm settings. While at the booth, Future Farmers of America members quizzed athletes on their farm knowledge. This booth was put together with the idea of participating athletes leaving with a better understanding of agriculture plus the awareness of Simplot’s role in the global food system.

What a way to spread the word on agriculture, to help dispel rumors and wrong ideas about how we in agriculture operate. Simplot must be applauded for their efforts in not only sponsoring this track and field event, but also for using the event to educate participants about agriculture.

Yes, this was a day well spent. Even for us old duffers, this was a fun day mingling with young athletes and feeling the excitement in the air with all of the events. You know, we all complain about today’s teenagers and the way they live their lives, the way they dress, and the way they speak. But on a day like this spent watching them compete, working hard at what they do, you see exemplary young men and women. You see youth willing to sacrifice to be able to meet goals. You see coaches who inspire hard work and a desire to better themselves in the youth they work with. You see families willing to spend time and money to travel across the United States so their children can compete. There is a lot to observe on and off the track at an event like this.

This was the fourth year we have gone to Pocatello to watch the Simplot Games, and I’m already looking forward to the one next year.

MARKETING

                                                                             JAEDN YOUNG

            Marketing is an important part of agriculture. When my dad and father-in-law were active in farming/ranching, marketing was mostly regional. I remember Dad being on the phone with sheep people, buying and selling his sheep. Boyd’s dad worked with regional grain elevators to get rid of his harvested crop. But we now live with global markets. There are a lot of seminars available to help farmer/ranchers learn about marketing. We have often attended workshops on this subject when we’ve gone to wheat producer conferences. We always came home with good intentions. But it is hard to change old habits.

            I guess I hadn’t thought too much about our marketing strategies until recently. Our grandson, Jaedn, is in the FFA program over in Baker City, Oregon. Jaedn and his brother, Skyler, have moved pipe here on the valley farm, fixed fence at the ranch, and done general farm work where and when needed for quite a few years.

            Well, they were studying marketing in FFA, so Jaedn had to answer some questions on a test about marketing cows. His answer to a question on the marketing plan for cattle was: “Sell when you need the money or sell a cow if her calf dies.” That wasn’t the correct answer. When asked who owned the cows on the ranch he worked on, he told them Grandma and Grandpa. “What cows belong to Grandma?” another question. He answered, “The dead ones.” He had heard us talking one day and I mentioned that whenever a cow died Boyd looked at me and said, “That was one of yours,” so I guess his answer was correct; the dead ones are mine.

            Janna, his mom said that Jaedn was in danger of failing FFA because of the things we have been teaching him. So I had to talk to Jaedn more about our marketing procedures.

            Boyd spends a lot of time at the Wednesday livestock sale in Idaho Falls, and often travels to Blackfoot on Fridays for the sale there. He watches, listens and makes decisions. He is good at watching the ups and downs in the sales of the cattle and determines through this on-site research when he is going to sell his calves. Then he gets on the phone calling potential buyers. This past year he, our son Derrald, and nephew Jay, worked with a company to sell the calves via an on-line auction. That was interesting and educational. The day of the auction, my laptop computer was put on the kitchen counter, chairs placed around it, and we had about 8 people watching the sale.

            Boyd always weeds out some cows each year. He takes into consideration their age, their ability to raise a good calf, and their health. This also is considered part of his marketing plan.

            Now, selling wheat seems to be a bit different. I’ve often accused Boyd of waiting until the price of wheat hits bottom, and then he sells. When the price is up, he says he thinks he had better watch it awhile. This might be when it is true that he “sells when he needs the money.” Although Boyd does read market reports, gets weekly news briefs on-line with the price paid for all grains, and visits with local elevator owners.

            But to put a marketing plan on paper just doesn’t seem to work for us. Those long-range plans don’t seem to take into consideration weather changes, drought, hail, early snow, no snow, or when we might need money. So Boyd’s wheat marketing plan is in his head.

            Jaedn needs to realize that his grandfather does know how to market his cows and wheat. And maybe when he comes back to be with us this year, we can talk a little more about this with him. Jaedn and Skyler each have a cow now, so he needs to learn more, not only about the care and treatment of the animal, but the potential of marketing. And we don’t want Jaedn to fail FFA!

DUMB LAWS

Sydney Schwieder riding a horse without a helmet!

According to Bryce Glenn’s February 8^th Post Register column “Looking Back,” a bill was presented in the 1937 Idaho Legislature to ban the use of radios in automobiles. This got me thinking of some of the bills that are presented and passed with our present Legislature, and maybe some things that should have been made into laws.

I am aware that hooking up seat belts and wearing helmets when riding a motorcycle are safety measures, but I’m not sure we need laws for things like that. The person injured is the person refusing to do these things, thus they are the ones to take the consequences of not following safety precautions. Why do our lawmakers need to spend time making laws to protect us from ourselves?

            What about all the times I washed with the wringer washing machine? I always had the kids helping me and they liked to put the clothes through the wringer. I would put a chair for them to stand on and one would put the clothes into the wringer and another one would be on the other side taking the clothes out. Many times my girls, with long hair, got their hair caught in the wringer. I never left them alone to do this, so we were able to reverse the direction of the wringer and get the hair untangled quickly. Maybe the legislature at that time should have made a law requiring anyone using a wringer washing machine to wear a helmet.

            We never wore helmets to ride horses or bikes when I was young. And we often fell and got scraped and skinned up, even broke a few bones. Once when heading for the swimming hole on Sand Creek, I rode behind my sister on her bike. We weren’t wearing shoes as we were dressed to jump right into the creek. However, I got my foot caught in the spokes of the back tire of the bike. I certainly felt that painful consequence of not wearing shoes when on a bike, and I didn’t need a law telling me to wear shoes next time.

            One time, before the advent of seat belts, I was driving to the ranch with the kids. Our youngest was sitting next to me in one of those car seats that hooked over the back of the seat, and put him so he could see out the window. I had bought groceries and the kids got some candy. Well on the way, the little one swallowed a piece of candy and started choking. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I grabbed him out of the car seat, put him upside down out the window, held onto one leg and gave him a couple of good swats on his upper back. The candy, plus breakfast, came right up. Pulling him back into the car, I put him back in the car seat and we went on our way. One of these newer car seats wouldn’t have prevented the choking. Do you think a law making it illegal go give children candy before riding in the car would have helped?.

            The other day we watched a DVD of a parade of old tractors, combines, threshing machines, and other farm equipment. The thing that really got my attention was the lack of safety shields over moving parts of these machines, and only an iron seat to sit on – no fancy upholstery, no padding, no springs to make the seat flexible, just cold iron. Those first machines were rough looking, just the basics to get them going. But they sure made a difference to the farming communities. And things have been made safer as new machines are developed. I’m not sure if laws were passed to put those safety shields on the equipment or not, but could have been.

            I guess my question is: do our law makers need to spend their time creating laws to protect us from the stupid things we do?

COLOSTRUM ANYONE?

This is a busy time of the year with our cattle. The heifers started calving in December, and now it’s the cows turn. We like the heifers to calve at a different time than the cows because the heifers are more apt to need some help and have to be watched closer. It is important that the men be out walking through the cows often, finding the ones that are close to calving and moving them into the shed that is prepared – the cow labor room.

With the nice days we have had, it hasn’t been a big concern to have a cow calve out in the front pasture, but the guys like to move the mom and newborn into the shed as soon as possible so they can keep an eye on both of them. In the evening they move all of the cows into the corral area, and then they go out about every two to four hours and walk through them, using the flash light.

Sometimes they have to pull a calf if the cow is having a hard time delivering. This usually takes two people working together. The calves are watched to make sure they start sucking right away. We want them to get that colostrum that mama’s have available before the milk comes in.

And occasionally a cow doesn’t accept her new calf, so the mom and her calve have to be locked up in a separate, small enclosed area to force bonding. This doesn’t happen a lot, but it does happen. When that does happens, that cow is marked (in the little red book) as one that will be culled out after weaning time. No sense in keeping a cow that is a bad mother! And cows can’t be taught to be good mothers, it’s just something that most of them are, but a few are not.

Boyd carries his little red book with him whenever he goes out and it sits on the kitchen cupboard when he’s in the house. He is forever checking it. He knows more about his cow’s genealogy than his own. He can tell how old a cow is, what color of a calf she has every year, birth weight of the calf, and whether she had problems with the birth. His red book is extremely valuable for that is his record keeping program. He also has a binder with a page for each cow, and many mornings will find him at the kitchen cupboard relaying information from the red book into the binder. I may give him a bad time about being computer illiterate, but he has certainly come up with a method that works for him in keeping cattle records.

Quite a few years ago I had surgery during calving time. I developed a complication from the surgery and had to stay in the hospital a few extra days. Boyd, who never likes to go into the hospital in the first place, did come to see me. One time he was there and a nurse was in the room with me. He could only stay for a few minutes he said, as he had a doctor’s appointment. “I have to have my “colostrum” checked,” he said, then turned and walked out the door. The nurse glanced at me with a questioning look on her face. After I finished laughing, I told her that we lived on a farm/ranch, and our cattle were calving. Boyd always becomes quite absorbed with the cattle, so it wasn’t a surprise that he got the words “Colostrum” and “Cholesterol” mixed up. Then she joined me as I laughed again. I don’t know if she shared that story with the other nurses, being a nurse myself I would bet that she did. And I’ve certainly shared it with friends.Later Boyd told me that when he got to the doctor's office and told him he'd come to get his colostrum checked, the doctor told him he'd been around the cows too long.

I really enjoy calving time, although it is a busy time, those new-born calves are so fun to see and watch! And it’s rewarding to see the protective mothers with their newborns.

OUT TO EAT

            Boyd and I don’t go out to eat a lot. We are both very content to stay at home, especially this time of the year when it gets dark early and is cold. He enjoys watching sports activities on TV and I enjoy reading. So when we do go out, it is always special.

This is the time of the year when ranchers and their spouse are invited to numerous “educational” dinners sponsored by veterinarians, animal drug companies, and animal groups. These are usually held at up-scale eating establishments where the food is excellent. The dress for these is casual, meaning we can go dressed in our jeans, so I am comfortable.

            I do enjoy these – a break from the normal slow evenings and a way to mingle with friends and neighbors during the cold winter evenings. The presentations are interesting and educational. Boyd and I both learn a lot at these and there are door prizes too, which are often very lucrative prizes.

            There happens to be hidden deep inside of me something besides: rancher’s wife; cook; gofer; fence fixer; and keeper of the books. That something is called woman.

            When we go to these winter dinners meetings woman emerges. This is one place that I cannot control her. She becomes especially strong as the door prizes are drawn. For some reason woman cannot get excited about:

• Ten free heifer pregnancy tests;
• A free semen and Trichimonis test
• Scour pills;
• A bottle of Uterine Bolus pills, used to help a cow that hasn’t cleaned out after giving birth;
• Pills to give a cow with mastitis
• New hats
• A small container of Roundup spray or other products being presented at the time
• A lariat or a whip
• Leather gloves
• A hot shot, whip or prod
• Ear tags

Can you understand why woman makes herself known to me at times like this? Woman wants to laugh out loud when I win one of those things, not because of the joy of winning, but the humor in my winning.

Woman does appreciate how the men like to win these things, even though she doesn’t want any of them. In fact, she understands why these are given as door prizes, and she doesn’t deny the fact that they are good advertising for the companies that donate the prizes.

I wonder what would happen if Boyd accompanied me to a dinner meeting that involved women and what they do, such as beauty products, cooking wares, cleaning products, crafting, etc. I’m sure I could find one to go to. And then maybe the door prizes would be more to the liking of the female gender, such as:

• A free pedicure and/or manicure
• A basket of lotions, perfume, and/or make up
• A free massage
• A bucket with cleaning supplies
• Free crafting supplies
• A new sauce pan
• Lots of free recipes

Come to think of it, I have seldom been invited to that type of a dinner meeting. Actually, when it comes right down to it my main interest is with the farm and ranch. So I am going to have to try to control woman to keep her from offending the sponsors of these dinner meetings that Boyd and I attend, and hope we keep being invited to them. I do enjoy the dinners and the meetings, and we use the door prizes we win. Plus I enjoy an evening out with my husband, no matter where we go.

And I am going to try to control woman, keep her from voicing her opinion when we are in public. Maybe it is best that we enjoy staying home away from the crowds. Woman never presents herself under those circumstances.

WATCH YOUR TERMINOLOGY

This is a busy time of the year with our cattle. The heifers started calving in December, and now it’s the cows turn. We like the heifers to calve at a different time than the cows because the heifers are more apt to need some help and have to be watched closer. It is important that the men be out walking through the cows often, finding the ones that are close to calving and moving them into the shed that is prepared – the cow labor room.

With the nice days we have had, it hasn’t been a big concern to have a cow calve out in the front pasture, but the guys like to move the mom and newborn into the shed as soon as possible so they can keep an eye on both of them. In the evening they move all of the cows into the corral area, and then they go out about every two to four hours and walk through them, using the flash light.

Sometimes they have to pull a calf if the cow is having a hard time delivering. This usually takes two people working together. The calves are watched to make sure they start sucking right away. We want them to get that colostrum that mama’s have available before the milk comes in.

And occasionally a cow doesn’t accept her new calf, so the mom and her calve have to be locked up in a separate, small enclosed area to force bonding. This doesn’t happen a lot, but it does happen. When that does happens, that cow is marked (in the little red book) as one that will be culled out after weaning time. No sense in keeping a cow that is a bad mother! And cows can’t be taught to be good mothers, it’s just something that most of them are, but a few are not.

Boyd carries his little red book with him whenever he goes out and it sits on the kitchen cupboard when he’s in the house. He is forever checking it. He knows more about his cow’s genealogy than his own. He can tell how old a cow is, what color of a calf she has every year, birth weight of the calf, and whether she had problems with the birth. His red book is extremely valuable for that is his record keeping program. He also has a binder with a page for each cow, and many mornings will find him at the kitchen cupboard relaying information from the red book into the binder. I may give him a bad time about being computer illiterate, but he has certainly come up with a method that works for him in keeping cattle records.

Quite a few years ago I had surgery during calving time. I developed a complication from the surgery and had to stay in the hospital a few extra days. Boyd, who never likes to go into the hospital in the first place, did come to see me. One time he was there and a nurse was in the room with me. He could only stay for a few minutes he said, as he had a doctor’s appointment. “I have to have my “colostrum” checked,” he said, then turned and walked out the door. The nurse glanced at me with a questioning look on her face. After I finished laughing, I told her that we lived on a farm/ranch, and our cattle were calving. Boyd always becomes quite absorbed with the cattle, so it wasn’t a surprise that he got the words “Colostrum” and “Cholesterol” mixed up. Then she joined me as I laughed again. I don’t know if she shared that story with the other nurses, being a nurse myself I would bet that she did. And I’ve certainly shared it with friends.Boyd later told me that when he told the doctor he was there to get his colostrum checked, the doctor told him he had been around the cows too much.

I really enjoy calving time, although it is a busy time, those new-born calves are so fun to see and watch! And it’s rewarding to see the protective mothers with their newborns.

AMISH

I love to read and do a lot of it. Lately I’ve been reading some fiction books featuring the Amish cultures. These books have made me do some serious thinking about my way of life. There were a couple of things in this last book I read that I especially took note of, (figuratively speaking, and I wish I had made a real note of them but I’ve taken the books back to the library):

• All work is like a prayer to God.
• The “English” are always rushing through what they are doing to get to the next thing.

These two things really made an impression on me. I am one that rushes through a task so I can get to another one. It seems like I live with the motto “let’s get this over with.”

So this morning I decided to take my time cleaning the house and not rush things, but think of honoring God by making our home clean and organized. (Of course the organization of it will take some doing, but I’m working on that too.) I’m surprised at how much I actually enjoyed the cleaning. Yes, I have other things I want and need to do, but the immediate task was the one I focused on. WOW! I can’t believe the good feeling I had not only as I was working, but when I was finished.

I tend to hurry through too much. Some of the things on my “to do” list are actually not important. Often my priorities are out of whack.

According to the books I’ve read, the Amish homes are very sparsely decorated. They live without electricity, although they do use propane gas and gas motors to run some things. Their first priorities are, not necessarily in this order: family; God; home; and neighbors. They don’t believe in “revenge” and work disagreements out among themselves. Yes, they are human, they do have disagreements and arguments, but they don’t believe in harboring the hurts from those. They believe in forgiving and asking for forgiveness.

The women do a lot of hand work, sew on treadle sewing machines, wash with wringer washing machines – powered by hand or propane gas generators, and cook and bake from scratch. They don’t have televisions or telephones in their homes. They do have access to phones, and if they have one it is out in the barn. That way the phone is not disruptive to their family life.

The men farm with horses and work in their sheds and shops using what we would call “old fashioned” tools. However, they get a lot done.

They live a simple life. It reminds me some of the times we lived at the ranch during the summer months. That was a simple way of living there, and one that not only I cherish, but our children do also. We don’t have electricity up there, so we learned to do things without it. Our children often talk of the fun and fond memories they have of living there.

Then why do I insist on making life complicated here in the valley. There are many things that add to the self-imposed complications that I have. The television and phone and even the computer are probably the most disruptive.

That reminds me of something I saw on TV the other evening. This 100+ year-old woman has written some books. She said that people could take away everything she had: her stove because she didn’t want to cook anymore; her TV; everything except her computer and she didn’t want anyone to touch that. That’s just how I feel, but I probably need to make sure the time I spend at the computer is productive time! Anyway, I’m going to try to simplify my life and make it more meaningful and comfortable. Meaningful shouldn’t mean cramming so much into life; it means simplifying and enjoying life!

EVERYTHING I KNOW I'VE LEARNED FROM COWS

     


  Many important things of life I’ve learned from being around and observing the cattle on our ranch.

• The grass might look greener on the other side of the fence, but there a good chance you will get your head caught in the fence or at least a catch in your neck by trying to get to that grass. You might as well be grateful for what you have on the side of the fence that you’re on and make the most of it.
• It’s a good idea to walk the entire fence when going into a new pasture. We haven’t moved around a lot since we finished our college years, but there is real wisdom is getting to know the area you live in. I still find new things in our area that add to my knowledge.

• Rules are made to be challenged, so walk the fence and look for the holes that will enable you to get out. How else will you see the world if you don’t find a way out of the fence? (Are we back to our boxes again?) However, there is also security with the fence. A fence may help keep danger away, or least make it harder for the wolf or coyote to get to you. There may be a poisonous weed just beyond the fence that you shouldn’t get into. So there is a time and a place to challenge this rule. The problem is, we don’t know the time or the place and sometimes have to face the danger from challenging rules.
• There is safety in the crowd, but being alone is also good and for some of us a necessity. Being with the crowd can be beneficial when storms come, as there is protection in numbers. And isolation gives us a chance to view things slowly.
• Teach children to obey. Obedience is importance throughout our lives and it is best learned when young. It is interesting to watch as a young calf will lay in an area, not moving, until its mother gives it the okay to get up or until she goes to get the calf. Teaching children to come when called and to stay where they are until told to move should be done while the child is young and doesn’t question everything.
• Face challenges head on. When a stray dog wanders out into the herd, the cows face it, letting it know it won’t go unchallenged. How many times do we turn away from challenges because we are afraid or unsure of ourselves? Facing things head on takes courage but also builds character.
• Work together, share others burdens. As I have watched the cows out in the pasture, I believe that once in awhile one of them is designated as “baby sitter” for the day, as there will be one cow and lots of calves around her while other cows are further out grazing. Also, in sharing their burdens, and I know I have mentioned this before, I have observed older cows surround a young heifer that is having labor pains. The older ones will be “lowing” in calming and soothing moos, as if to say “we’re here with you and know you can do it.” A shared burden is one that is easier to get over.
• Follow the leader to water. The path is being made by you and the others to the watering hole. There will always be leaders in our lives, and we need to pay attention to them.
• Treat everyone as equal. Don’t look at color, size, or shape. Just accept people for who they are, give everyone a chance.
• Dependent on others. We are all dependent on others for some parts of our lives. The cow is dependent on its owners for its food, especially in the cold winters. Learn to accept dependence and not fight it. 

• Chew your cud. Take time to think things out, slow down, enjoy life. And don’t criticize others for doing the same.

A DAY IN SUN VALLEY

A couple of months ago we spent a day in Sun Valley. It was the weekend of the Trailing of the Sheep festivities. Trailing of the Sheep is a special celebration recognizing one of the rituals of ranching in the West, that of bringing the animals in from summer pasture. 

It happened to be the weekend of our first snow storm this past fall, and we seriously considered turning around and heading home before we even got as far as Arco. It turns out that the snow storm was considerably less intense the farther west we traveled.

I had signed up to attend a writer’s symposium, “Women writing & living the West”. This was the first year this symposium was offered. Diane Josephy Peavey,  author of Bitterbrush Country, Living on the Edge of the Land, was a co-chairman of the event. In the past I had attended a couple of other workshops where she was on the program and have read and enjoyed her book. I highly recommend it to anyone, especially women who are new at living on the land.

            Teresa Jordan, moderator of the event and an award-winning author of several books, said, in her opening statement: “[Through writing we are] celebrating our history and our culture. Stories are the owners manual for our lives. If we don’t tell these stories they will be told by others who don’t understand either our history or our culture.”

            Dianne Josephy Peavey advised us that “you will forget things if we don’t write them. No one else can do it for you.” She also brought out that ranching families work together – no one is left behind, quite different from jobs in town.

            This turned out to be an interesting day with women from many states, telling their stories of ranching. A lot of them are involved with sheep, but some have cattle, and some have both. Quite a number of these women are owners of ranches, and they talked of the problems they face.

            Many women at this symposium told their stories of struggles, heartaches, and challenges. But there were also uplifting stories of  challenges faced and won, of helping each other, of overcoming the odds and being able to hold their heads up high among their male counterparts.

            Agriculture is still mainly male dominated, and one of the last big businesses to accept women as leaders and equals in their domain. However, this is slowly changing.

One of the major things that make the business of agriculture different from other big business is that the CEO of a ranching or farming operation does not wear a suit and tie and sit behind a desk all day. The majority of times that person, male or female, is dressed in jeans or overhauls and boots, sitting on the seat of a big truck or tractor or in the saddle on a horse. Working at the desk takes place at night when all of the other work is done, and usually when everyone else is in bed.

            This symposium wasn’t to encourage women to take over the ranch, but to encourage all of us to write our stories, to share what it means to live in the West, to write the history of the land we live on. It wasn’t a time to complain about what should have been, or what could have been, but a time to reevaluate what our position as women is in preserving our histories.

            Because of family commitments, Boyd and I weren’t able to stay and see the actual trailing of the sheep. However, we were able to watch and enjoy some of the dog trials. We missed a lot of the activities of the weekend, but we saw enough to feel the excitement and to resolve to go back next year and stay the entire weekend. I would recommend attendance to anyone!