Sometimes You Get a Red Calf

I was out at Prairie Momma Trish's today.  I always come back with good things to write about.  At least I think I do....

Sometimes life doesn't go at all the way we plan!  Lately my life has been just like that.  While I would much rather it was not as upside down as it is, I realize that blessings almost always come out of tough experiences.  Some things that come to us as a struggle can actually be blessing in disguise.

 One of Trish's lovely black heifers was bred to a very nice, registered, black Angus bull.  Trish's black cows always have black calves. That's what they're supposed to do.  Yesterday, Trish got a surprise! Meet "Latte"....

He is a beautiful little bull calf, perfect in every way.  But he's red.  The one and only red calf on the place.  With his breeding he was practically guaranteed to be black.  But he's red as red, with a little pink nose.  But Trish is happy.  He's a healthy calf and pretty as can be.  He's just not what was expected.

With life throwing curve balls at me right and left, I decided to pretty much chill out today.  But the boys got restless and I needed to change my chill out plan.  So we went to Trish's and had way more fun than we have any where else.

 

The chutes became a jungle gym....

 

 

The pea grinder became a sensory play station....

 

 

And the old tractor was the most fun ever!

 

 

 

 

 

And just for fun, here's an update on Charlie.  He's doing fantastic and now gets to go out in the field!

 

 

 

Bye for now,

B

Is it a Farm or a Ranch?

Something that has been on my mind today....  What is your definition of a farm? 



The lucky chickens on Martha Stewart's "farm".

Most of the people I know snicker a little at the little mini farms or ranchettes that people have.  The ones that say, have 2.5 acres, a horse and dog, but they call it a "ranch" or "farm".  Around these parts, if you say "farm" that usually means several thousand acres of grain fields or crop land.  If you say "ranch", that means several thousand acres of pasture that supports at least several hundred head of cattle.

But then, I have some cousins that have a "Ranch" that is all grain and crops and no cows. But I know it's a ranch and always has been. (Ya'll know who you are,*wink*.) You can read about life on that Ranch at www.montanaprairietales.com 



This picture was taken when we were out walking in the wheat fields on a "farm".

So my questions are:  What makes a ranch a ranch and a farm a farm?  If you raise a bunch of goats say, or some menagerie of critters, is it a farm?  Or a ranch?  Also, how big or small should said farm or ranch be to not be the snickered at, mini farm or ranchette?  Is it based on number of acres, number of critters, or bushels produced?  Or should it be based on the owners' own definition?  Some of my dear blog readers are bonafide farmers and ranchers.  Some of you are not.  But either way, I'd love to know your thoughts on this subject!  Feel free to comment on here or on Facebook.  It think it could be a fun discussion!



This windmill is on a "ranch", West of Geraldine.

Bye for now....

B

Charlie's Angels

Today we loaded up the kids and went to the ranch where Prairie Momma Trish was doctoring a calf.His name is Charlie.  Charlie was born with some rotten luck.  First, he was born to the only cow on Trish's place that is not happy.  She is about as "honky" as they come and had the nerve to run Trish down when she was trying to help her deliver Charlie!  She is so unhappy that she's looking for a new home!


The kids wanted to know why Charlie couldn't get up.

Secondly, Charlie was born with contracted tendons on his back legs.  This made it pretty much impossible for him to stand up.  So Momma Trish has been helping him get extra food by bottle feeding him.  She also came up with a plan to help his legs.  He was given the medication to help his tendons relax.  Then she gathered up some paint mixing sticks, vet wrap, gauze and Gorilla tape and we fashioned him some splints.



Can you believe I'm actually in a photo? I'm almost always behind the camera.

 

 

After his splints were on, Mr. Charlie had a whole new day! He was able to stand and even walk a little bit! Now he's able to stand and nurse and get enough to eat.  Soon you won't be able to tell he was born with crooked legs.

 

Charlie with his new legs.

After Charlie was fixed up the kids had a ball running around in the corrals.  The squeeze chute became a play pen and the horses got hugs. 

 



It was a beautiful, perfect day in Geraldine....

Cowgirls

What do you think of when someone says "cowgirl"? The idealized, rope swinging, hip swinging, rodeo queen wannabee's? Or the gun toting, truck driving, Miranda Lambert wannabee's? ( I admit I'm sometimes in this category!) 



 

 

Well I have a new image for you....

 

 

 

 

 

This is Prairie Momma Trish.  (I hope she forgives me for posting this!)  Trish is what I consider the cowgirl standard.  She and her adorable husband ranch and farm here in Geraldine.  I am so proud to call them my friends.  Trish is a Momma to strays of all varieties.  People, dogs, old horses, bum calves...  She's every body's neighbor and rescuer of many. 

 

 

 

Today, I bounced around in Trish's pickup as she scoured the pasture looking for cows that were about to calve and checking on the wee ones that recently came into our world.  We had a blizzard the other day that left a blanket of snow that is now causing everything to be wet and muddy.  Trish's cows all have lots of fresh hay and bright straw to bed their babies in.  Trish's cows are happy cows!  They are so happy that they never leave or wander off even though the gates are never shut. Sometimes the neighbor's drive by and shut them, thinking they were accidentally left open.  Trish just laughs and opens them up again.



Doesn't she look happy?  I swear she's smiling!

 

This one is definitely smiling!

 

 

 

And just for fun.... 

 Who can tell me what these are?  If you know, you just might be cowgirl, or cowboy enough.... 



'Til next time,
B

It Smells Like Spring

One of the challenges I've noticed about living this far from the big town is how difficult it is to get and keep fresh produce in the fridge.  We try to feed the rugrats a fruit or veggie at every meal. Three growing boys can empty a fruit drawer in a hurry.  I try to only make a trip to town no more than once a week and even stretch it to two weeks whenever I can.  I buy 90% of my groceries at Sam's Club.  The cases of everything and giant carts really suit our lifestyle. But the produce that's available there doesn't always fit the bill and of course these months of winter we are without any of our home grown garden treats.

Some of last summer's home grown veggies.

Thankfully, a friend told me about Bountiful Baskets a while back.  It's a produce buying co-operative that is run by volunteers.  You make a contribution and they put it into a pool and buy as much yummy produce as the money allows.  The effort is made for freshness, in season and for a fun variety. The coolest part for me is that we never know what we're gonna get! It's like veggie Christmas!  I can say the $15.00 for the box is an amazing value. This time we got potatoes, cherry tomatoes, spinach, lettuce, pineapple, green bell peppers, leeks, mushrooms, apples, oranges, bananas, broccoli and probably something I'm forgetting.

Every other Saturday morning our group of farmer's wives, school teachers, cowboys and kids all gather at the Geraldine Fire Hall to organize, disperse and pick up our bountiful baskets.  Today when I arrived, not many folks had beat the truck driver.  So my big boy and I pitched in to unload the semi and organize the baskets. He and the other kids were a great help and had fun too.  I think we will now make it a regular thing to have him go with me to volunteer.

Some of today's Bountiful Basket.
 

When we got home my mom was ready to help sort, wash and put up our loot.  The kitchen was suddenly bursting with fresh, green things.  Mom said it smelled like Spring.

The website for Bountiful Baskets is www.bountifulbasktets.org .  Maybe they have a site in your town!

'Til Next Time,
B

Snowy Sunday

What does a Prairie Momma do on a day that's cold, windy and snowy enough that one doesn't want to play outside? She makes jam!  What does she do if she doesn't have any brand new jar lids in the house and the store is 30 miles away?  She makes freezer jam!

This morning I noticed that there are only two more jars of my home made Flathead Cherry Jelly in the pantry.  Now that I have learned to make jelly I am a jelly snob.  I occasionally think about buying some at the store.  I pick up the jar, read the ingredients and shake my head when I get to the  "high fructose corn syrup" part. Back on the shelf it goes. 

My big boy took this photo for his Momma.

I plan on becoming the Jelly Queen.  It's actually pretty easy once you get over the whole, huge boiling kettle, steaming hot jars and lids, big ol' fruit mess thing. So even though I am still far from being a domestic goddess, I'm now one step closer! The best part is I can spend cold, snowy days doing something productive and dare I say, fun.  A little side bonus is the cost, or lack of.  Each jar of today's jam cost about $1.37 to make.  The jam in the store is what I consider outrageously expensive.  So if you want to save money and doing something interesting, give it a try! Of course I know some of you are old hands at jelly making and might be having a giggle at my expense. That's ok!  If it weren't for other momma's knowing these things, us younger gals wouldn't have anyone to learn from.

So there it is.... my exciting Sunday afternoon in Geraldine. 

'Til next time,

B

Uncle George & AM Radio

A view from my past....

Today I drove the old blue van to Fort Benton.  I was in need of some things from the hardware store.  Mainly one of those chain, security locks for my door.  Not because we have any sort of crime here in Geraldine, because we don't.  But because my rugrats have become very adept at getting all the doors open and escaping outside. They wanna go "ooouuut!"  Sometimes I actually can't keep my eye on both of them at the same time, so I needed a lock! 

When I drive one of our older vehicles that doesn't have XM Radio, I always have it tuned to KMON AM 560 radio.  It's a country station that has been on the air in Great Falls for at least 40 years, maybe longer. They still play all the really good music from the 70's and 80's plus the current stuff. You can count on the weather twice an hour and the Ag Report at Noon.

 

I remember hearing  "On the Road Again" and "The Gambler" all the time, back when I was a little red headed, pig tailed little girl riding in my mom's old, olive green Ford car.  Some years later, KMON AM 560 was playing on the radio of my '78 Ford truck every time I drove to town from my Uncle George's ranch at Dupuyer, Montana.  By then I was a crazy teenage girl with hair down to my waist, wearing boots and Wranglers as though my life depended on it.  I was my great uncle's "hired man" and KMON was faithfully tuned in just before noon dinner each day.  We'd be heading back to the house from feeding the cows and he'd tune in to hear Paul Harvey's "Rest of the Story" as we bounced along in those old farm trucks.  Uncle George is with Jesus now.  But I will never forget his wisdom or his sermons for me as I worked along side him, listening to the radio....

Dupuyer, MT