What I Learned At A Wobig Family Thanksgiving

(Warning: this may only make sense to a limited number of people)

10. Lisbon is the capital of Portugal

9. Jake makes the best mashed potatoes, which apparently includes approximately 12 tablespoons of butter per every 10 potatoes

8. purple hair is NOT the same thing as pink hair

7. Somethings just shouldn't be roped

6. You can balance a spoon on your nose no matter how big or heavy the spoons are

5. If you need to know where our fathers are, you'll most likely find them "staring a GIANT jug of wine in the basement."

4. You can watch the movie 'Up' three times in two days (including once in French)

3. Greeks made columns, Egyptians made pyramids

2. It is actually physically possible to get a drinking glass stuck to your face

1. I have the most entertaining family on the face of the earth.....

Open Season

I really don't know what it is about deer that makes grown men go a little bit crazy for about 10 days every fall - yet, it never fails. Nick starts salivating about the beginning of September and it carries right through November. Every weekend he makes the rounds between the motion sensitive cameras he posts all over the ranch to watch for any "monster bucks" that might wander into view. He'll spend hours sitting on a hilltop watching deer through his spotting scope. Why, you might ask? I have no idea - but it seems to make him happy.

This weekend was the opening of rifle hunting for deer in Nebraska. About the middle of the week hunters from Wisconsin, California, and West Virginia descended upon the Simmons Ranch, ripe with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. For three days, they scouted, they set up tree stands, and deer blinds (if there is such a thing), they sat in pick-ups studying herds of deer off in the distance, and who knows what else.

Saturday morning started off early, with Nick waking up at 5:45a.m. to go out and put Gimli in the barn so he wouldn't run around and bother the hunters OR the deer. I had strict instructions to watch him at all times if I let him out, or to just bring him in the house (which I found amusing since Nick is very anti-dog-in-house on any normal occasion). A couple hours later, Nick came back in, flushed with excitement, and quietly called me to come to the back door. Apparently a "really big" deer had bedded down in the ravine close behind our house. Why was it important I know this? It seems that he wanted to be sure I didn't stomp around the house, start slamming doors, or spontaneously decide to take up a new hobby of playing bagpipes - lest I scare it away. Sheesh.

i REALLY need to get out more

So last week I woke up on a random Tuesday morning to the following announcement from my loving husband "So...what are we doing this weekend?" Seeing as this was at about 6:00am , my response was something to the effect of "Prrwhffft?" Not one to be phased, Nick forged ahead with, "Can we go somewhere to get a refrigerator?"





Now before I go any further with this story, perhaps I should back up about 3 years. You see, when Nick and I got married, the ranch (very kindly) renovated the house we lived in. At the time, we didn't have a refrigerator. My parents had (also, very kindly) purchased a dishwasher and stove for us, but refrigerators were just so...well...expensive. Actually, there was a fridge in this house, but it was older than Nick and I put together, so Nick's mom stepped in (again, very kindly) and offered to take the ancient refrigerator off our hands. In return, we could have a (slightly) newer model out of a house on the ranch that no one lived in and was only used when hunters came for a week or two every fall. She then, in turn, gave our original fridge to the hunters, and for three years, we've used a small, white refrigerator that really didn't match my red kitchen and stainless appliances, but managed the task of cooling our food very decently. Actually a little too well, as anything that managed to get shoved to the back ended up frozen no matter what setting it was on - but then again, beggars can't be choosers and frankly, we were lucky to have it!





Now back to last Tuesday and Nick's question, "Can we go somewhere to get a new refrigerator?" As I'd longed for a new fridge for 3 years, and had steadfastly saved for it, despite my sleepy stupor, my interest was peaked. It seems that the old refrigerator in the hunters cabin had finally quit, and with deer season looming and hunters imminently on their way, my husband had suddenly decided it was crucial we buy a new refrigerator so the hunters could have ours. After all, what sense did it make to buy them a new one when it would only be used once a year? I certainly couldn't argue with that logic - not that I would've wanted to.





So, after spending a couples hours at the office neglecting my real work and researching refrigerators that happened to be in stock locally, I found one that fit what I wanted perfectly. So, off we went to fetch it. (Has it occurred to anyone else yet that my excitement over a household appliance might be just a little bit sad???) Of course, when we got home, Nick decided he'd rather spend time stalking deer with his bow and arrow and archery permit in hand, so my pretty new stainless, french door and bottom freezer refrigerator sat quietly in the shop and waited....and waited....and waited.





Ultimately he did finally return, and the two of us somehow managed to get the 33 inch wide appliance through a doorway that was approximately 33 and 5/8 inch wide, with only minimal cursing and argument.

And Now, for the first time, I present to you:

Of course, that was before we realized that the water hook up we had installed 3 years ago in anticipation of an occasion such as this was hooked into the HOT water line.....

Seeing Double

Over the past few years it's become a bit of a tradition for Nick and I to go to a specific horse sale every Labor Day weekend. We don't always go prepared to buy, but this year Nick was ready. He'd spent months scouring the sale catelog and researching the bloodlines he wasn't familiar with. He had certain horses marked. He was ready to buy. So off we went. And home we came, with not one, but TWO weanling colts.

So meet the new addition to our equine family

Introducing: Oscar

Introducing: Spade

Best Buds

Schoolin'

While many youngsters are relishing the last days of summer and dreading the return to their classrooms, school is already in session along Eli Road.

Our yearling, Tango, is ready to learn the ropes - quite literally. He's finally big enough to start wearing a saddle, and eventually, a rider. Nick's been hard at it over the last couple of Sunday mornings. I went along this morning to watch and so I could get back in the saddle myself.

So I blew the cobwebs off my boots and spurs, (not just a catch phrase, there was infact a cobweb on my boots!) loaded up my saddle, and headed out to pasture with the hubby. I really don't know what it is, but everytime I tag along to herd the horses into the corral, they decide to be obstinate and run everywhere except where they're supposed to. We always end up chasing them around the pasture for longer than we actually get to ride. I'm told this must have something to do with me, as they apparently only do it when I'm present. Hmmm....

Anyway, once they were all safely penned, Nick got down to business while Quest and I sat on the sidelines and watched.

After getting Tango warmed up with the lunge line, he had to get saddled up.

Taking it slow and easy, Nick lets him smell the saddle. Of course, Tango thought

that meant he could chew on it too....

Just letting him hang out for a bit. Only the second time he's had a saddle on and he's already a pro!

I'd say it was in the genes, but we all know Brackett Bill's bloodline wasn't exactly known to be easy going!

Lunging again

After Tango had run in a sufficient number of circles without acting up AT ALL (can you tell I'm proud?) Nick saddled up Buck and the five of us headed out to find some canyons. Nick and Buck took lead, pulling Tango along. I followed behind to keep Tango from pulling Nick out of the saddle.

There is absolutely nothing in the world as rejuvenating as spending a lazy Sunday morning riding horseback through the Sandhills.

All in all, it was a good morning.





Me and my babies - Quest and Tango

Teenage Mutant Ninja Grasshoppers

Ok, so I have no idea how old they are and they're probably not mutants or ninjas, but they ARE in fact grasshoppers.

Thousands of them - everywhere!

I'm told this happens from time to time, but this is the first I've seen it, and I must say, it's a bit hard to get used to. Every time you take a step outside, hundred of them jump and scatter in every direction. They even buzz your head.

Worst of all, they eat EVERYTHING. Except apparently squash and zuchini. Those are basically the only things left in my garden even after I've routinely doused it with insecticide. (I think Nick is a little worried that if the grasshoppers aren't already, they might actually turn into mutants if I spray anymore!)

It's more than a little frustrating. This is the first year I've actually made strides in keeping up with the garden and my flower beds, and everything is now torn to shreds by these nasty little creatures!

Oh well, such is life I guess.

Grasshoppers clinging to the

corner post of my garden!

This used to be a big, beautiful

dahlia...........not so much

anymore!

Weekend Visitors

Ahh ....weekends. The days that were made for relaxing, playing, yardwork, housecleaning, laundry, etc. Take your pick. But they're also days when visitors may come calling. Except, rather than the occasional neighbor, in-law, or friend dropping by, we seem to attract more, well, unusual guests.

Most of the time, our unwanted guests, such as deer, turkeys, raccoons, and rabbits find themselves running from Gimli, who is convinced he is, among other things, quite ferocious.

There are, however, the occasional visitor who will settle in for a few days and seem to be content to ignore Gimli, and will even from time to time, attempt to chase him.....Such as the bobcat who set up a household in a pile of trees nearby a couple of weeks ago. (Sorry, no pictures. It was more than a little shy)

Todays visitor was more, shall we say, prehisitoric.......

This morning, as I was hurrying to finishing spraying weeds before the wind came up, I turned around to find this snapping turtle basking in the sun on the lane behind our house. I'm sure it was quite surprised to find itself the center of attention.

Chester, was rather content to sit a safe distance away and observe this strange creature.......

Kitty, however, thought it appropriate to circle and stalk......

As entertaining as this was to watch, I decided I didn't really want to end up with a three legged cat. I asked Nick what to do with the snapper. He said "Just pick it up and carry it back to the pond. My response? "You pick it up!" Neither of us really wanting to carry a snapping turtle anywhere, this little exchange continued for a few minutes.

In the end....

Nick and Gimli escorted our visitor back to the fish pond

Winter Wonderland (Despite the Fact It's Spring)

Have you ever read "Little House on the Prairie"? Remember that part where they describe the blizzard. You know, where they had to tie a rope around Pa so he didn't get lost going between the house and barn? I always thought it was just a teensy bit exaggerated.


However recently, I've gained a new respect for spring blizzards. In the last 3 weeks, we've had three. Each one worse than the last. Of course, no one has to tie a rope around themselves (yet), and let's face it, Nick's the only one who spends much time outside. Although I did venture out to scoop snow off the back sidewalk in a feeble attempt to thwart his tendancy to track loads of it into the house. I say feeble because in less than half an hour there was a new snow drift about 3 feet deep (It's now larger). I have not tried again.




The snow is actually clinging to the windows. It's a bit like living in a snow cave. You can't see out. If anyone were stupid enough to stand outside, they couldn't see in. Pretty amazing really. Sometimes I'm a little bit in awe of what it's like to live out here.



Hopefully, the electricity will stay on.....

Holy Cow

As I sat in my living room this Sunday morning, enjoying a cup of coffee, checking my email and facebook page, and daydreaming about starting a landscaping project this spring, a large black cow came wandering into view. Now that wouldn't be all that unsual since there are about 600 of them on the meadow by our house currently, however, this cow was not on the meadow. It was in my yard. Good thing it's too early to start that landscaping.....

Mending Fences

The ever offending gate....

So it occurred to me that it's been several months since I last updated this blog... Almost a year actually. One of my last blogs was about calving season, and guess what, here we are again. Waking up in the middle of the night, wandering out in the cold to drive around and check to see if any heifers are having trouble....day after day and of course, night after night after night...

I have to admit, this is mostly Nick's job. I actually have very little to do with it, other than elbowing him when the alarm goes off at 10, 2, and 6. But last weekend, Nick left me home ALONE to check cows while he went to a bull sale.

Me, alone, to check cows. Let's stop and think about that. I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to checking for...other than the obvious nose and legs protruding from the back end of a cow. But it looks terrible to begin with; how in the world would I know if something was actually wrong?? Nick just laughs and heads merrily down the road. Figures.

So dutifully, I go out to check the cows at the appropriate times, in the same way I've watched him do it. First step: Drive the old white pickup. Nevermind the fact it's older than I am, the steering is going out of it, it has no headlights (because Nick "bumped" a cow and broke them) and of course a manual transmission, which I'm only slightly learning to drive. Nevertheless behind the wheel I go and head toward the calving lot. After killing the engine about 5 times, I even make it there. Step one - Check.

Of course the cows have all decided to stand right by the gate. So I do what I can to shoo them away so I can open the gate and drive through. Which miracously I manage to do without a single cow escaping. Point for me! Step two-Check.

And behind the wheel of the little white pickup again....and I kill the engine half way through the gate....Oye. But finally, I get through. Now I'm sweating bullets because I know I have to actually shut the gate. This is a new gate. It's recently been rebuilt which means one thing, it's a bear to shut. Really, really tight and requires a professional weight lifter to close. Which of course I'm not. But miracles of miracles, I get it shut. I manage to check all the cows too. Twice in one day. With no problems other than killing the transmission on the pickup repeatedly. Step three-Check.

On my last trip through, I'm feeling pretty proud of myself. There I am patting myself on the back, feeling like a real cowgirl when I drive out the gate for the last time knowing Nick will be home before the next round, and won't he be so proud! Whistling, and a I dare say a little bit cocky, I saunter over to the gate, pick it up and try to close it. Apparently, I was a bit over confident. The lever won't shut. No problem, I'll just try again. I take the post out, pull on the gate and try again. Nope, not even close. I lean on the lever with all my weight. Still no good.

Half an hour later, I'm still there. The gate still won't close. Cows are crowded around the gate, watching (and likely laughing as best cows can). One actually try to "help" by resting her head on the gate. Our dog Gimli, who has previously sat patiently watching starts to whine, as if it to say "Come on already - Nick can shut the gate in 10 seconds, what's taking so long?"

Sweat running down my back, cussing like a sailor, and stamping my feet like a petulant child, I somehow manage to win the battle with the gate. The cows applaud, Gimli happily runs toward home, I get in the pickup and promptly kill the engine. And wouldn't you know it, not a single calf was born the whole damn day!