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Showing posts with label Adventures of a Rancher's Daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adventures of a Rancher's Daughter. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

I Love You Mommy!

WARNING: This blog has been rated 3PND (3 Pees, No Drinking!) by the Blog Readers Association of Mommy! You have been warned!

Since Chris officially canceled Tuesday, I'm kind of at a loss. I too canceled Tuesday so that I might better recover from Monday. However, when I checked in with Chris she made me feel guilty for leaving everyone here in Blogland to fend for themselves.

After spending my non-Tuesday reading Chris's recommended post, I decided that it was a perfect time to make fun of my Mother. Why? Well, because she's a hilarious old woman who lost her last shred of sanity years and years ago. (Raising me may, or may not, have had something to do with her apparent loss.)

In my family it is made perfectly clear that if we don't pick on you, we don't like you. Since I like my Mom an aweful lot, I think it's only fitting that I make fun of her.

Let the pointing and laughing commense!

I must tell you that my mother is officially the biggest KLUTZ I know! (Okay, technically she's the second biggest klutz, but since the person in the #1 position is klutzy on purpose, the official award has to go to my Mom!) Seriously, my Mother could find a way to injure herself in a plastic bubble!

Think I'm kidding? I'm not! My mother is the only woman on the face of this Earth who can give herself a DOUBLE CONCUSSION! Never heard of a double concussion? Don't feel bad. I believe the doctor made some technical statement like, "What the hell were you thinking?"

So, how do you get a double concussion? It's actually quite easier than you might expect.

First, you must strategically plan the landscaping of your yard so that a large tree stump is positioned directly outside your front step where the sidewalk forks in two directions. Second, you must wake up early in the morning and decide to leave your house prior to your coffee kicking in. Thirdly, you must do this on an icy winter morning when there are horses to feed, cows to check and ice to break in the water tanks.

Once these three aspects are properly set up, it is simply a matter of stepping onto your front step, slipping on the ice, and flying head first into the previously mentioned tree stump. Bingo! It's 7 A.M. and you have successfully recieved concussion #1! Congratulations!!

Of course, as the name "double concussion" implies, this is only the beginning! In order to achieve the spectacular title of "DUH" you must also possess a very unique quality. You must firmly believe that you are SUPERWOMAN and that all doctors are the "Devil's Handymen". Then, you must conclude that saving a baby calf from freezing to death is much more important than tending to your own injuries. If this is the case, you can then pick yourself up off the ice-covered front lawn and procede to go about your morning chores.

No doubt this would be a difficult task for many of us, because double vision and throbbing headaches would make it difficult to tell which gate led to which pen and which calf belonged to which cow. It seems that my Mother is quite talented in this realm of multiplicity. She barely noticed that our horses had miraculously cloned themselves and since math is not really her strong point, it posed no concern to her that there were a few too many cows in the pens.

My Mother proceded through her day, completing her chores and all of the pleasant tasks that go along with managing a ranch in the dead of winter. Amazingly, she did not fall in the water tanks, and all the gates were opened and closed properly.

At the end of a long day, my Mother stumbled her way back to the house and decided it was time for a nap. This is where that amazing double whammy rears it's ugly head. It is important to note here that at this particular time, my parents bed was actually a pull out couch. My Mother stumbles to her room and in an act of total exhaustion she basically belly flopped onto her bed. WHAMO!! Her forehead cracks precisely on the metal frame supporting the mattress! Congratulations Mom! You have just scored concussion #2!

I must say that this certainly takes a lot of talent and a true act of KLUTZINESS!! The doctor was not nearly as impressed! As far as the events that transpired between concussion #1 and concussion #2, they are forever lost. It is quite possible that she DID fall into the water tank and was oblivious to it. It is also possible that the dog ate alfalfa that morning, while the cows pigged out on Puppy Chow. Dad might have eaten cat food, while the cat got a cheeseburger. The neighbor may have even lost a few sheep that day. We may never know!

I know that you must truely be impressed by my Mother's fantastic feat of cranial damage. But please keep in mind that it takes much more than a single day's actions to defend a championship title.

My mother has also managed to slam herself face first into a cattle panel, only to have no recollection of what happened. The bruises clearly told us that she HAD slammed into the panel, but to this day we have no idea why she decided to take a running leap into the unforgiving metal.

On another occasion, this bull-headed woman jumped a fence and probably broke her ankle. Since it was only a week from the State Fair, she refused to go to the doctor because there was no way she would spend her "vacation" wearing a cast. Instead, she tightly laced a boot on her foot for a week. (Please picture a half naked crazy woman limping to the bathroom in the middle of the night wearing only her skivies and one cowboy boot!) Again, the doctor was not impressed with her.

One of her more talented feats involved an exploding sewing needle which managed to lodge itself into her eye. Though I must admit she DID seek medical assistance for this (not that they were of much help). She then spent the next few weeks pulling metal shards from her eye.

More recently, she managed to relocate her thumb so that it faced the opposite direction. I believe this incident had something to do with a greedy horse and a large hay bale feeder. Again, she sought medical assistance (to no avail) and certainly deserves a standing ovation for learning to wipe her ass with her other hand!

So, as you can clearly see, my mother is a glutton for punishment! She never ceases to amaze us (and annoy her doctors) with her klutzy resolve! She never gives up! She continues to brave the icy winter mornings, wrestle the hay bale feeders, and cuss at her sewing machine.

My Mother is a firm believer that when you get bucked off, you've got to pick yourself up and get right back on that horse.

That being said, I will leave you with one final "I'm tough enough to handle it" Mommy Moment!

Having just been released from the hospital for a surgery that only a woman could require (and in her case, welcome) she decided that she felt exceptionally good. In fact, she felt SO good that when Cletus announced he needed some help on a horse, she decided to overcome her life-long fear in order to assist him. In a brilliantly STUPID moment, she decided to saddle MY horse to help Dad. (Let me make it clear that I own an insane, stubborn, unpredictable, bastard of an Appaloosa!) She seemed to have no problem overcoming her phobia of horses at that moment. Unfortunatlely, my horse does not really appreciate having to actually WORK! My Mother's "bravery" lasted approximately 90 seconds. At that point, my horse decided to express his displeasure by throwing a full-blown three-year-old temper tantrum complete with bucking! While my Mother definately deserves BONUS POINTS for remaining in the saddle (a feat even I find difficult at times) she did discover at that very moment that she didn't feel nearly as great as she thought. Her ride was promptly brought to a halt as abdomenal incisions screamed in protest!

As I said, "My Mother is a firm believer that when you get bucked off, you've got to pick yourself up and get right back on that horse."

Unless of course, it actually involves a HORSE!!

Sunday, March 4, 2007

Me and My Pointy Stick!!

When I was about nine, my Mom met my Dad and my life as a rancher's daughter began. Up until this point, I'd been pretty much a tom boy, so making the transition to ranch life wasn't all that hard for me. I loved animals. I loved the outdoors. And I absolutely adored my Dad. However, looking back on it, I realize that I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. Let me explain.

Through most of my youth I was a scrawny 90-pound waif of a girl. Just a little twig that a stiff breeze could probably blow over. However, that didn't stop me from being fully convinced that I was the toughest thing out there. There was no doubt in my mind that I could do ANYTHING that the boys could do and I had no problem proving that to any boy who believed otherwise.

Now my Dad had never really been around girls. He'd raised two sons who had kids of their own by the time my Mom and me came around. Anyone who's lived on a ranch knows that the work has to get done, regardless of whether you're a girl or not.

My mother will be the first to tell you that when we moved to the ranch, she didn't have the slightest idea of what to expect. She's a hard worker and more than happy to pull her own weight, but with age comes enough wisdom to know that large animals are unpredictable, and some things just aren't worth getting hurt. My Mom was great at running the tractors and throwing the hay bails, but when it came to being around those beady-eyes critters, she'd just as soon prefer to be on the other side of the fence. That's where I came into play.

Me, I wasn't afraid of horses or cows or anything else that might be out there. I was fully convinced that if my Dad could stand out in the middle of that pen, then so could I. And I set out to prove I could.

Determined to prove that boys aren't all their cracked up to be, I followed my Dad around like a shadow. I asked him 15,000,000 questions that probably drove him utterly insane. I hung on his every word. I totally idolized him! The funny thing about being young is that, one, you think you are totally invincible, and two, you're fully convinced that those you love would never put you in harms way. So Dad ended up with a perfect little minion who would do anything he told her to do.

I learned to drive a tractor before I could reach the pedals. I'd spend all day on the back of a horse working cattle before I could even put my feet in the stirups. I did my best to throw hay bails that were heavier than I was. And I stood my ground against a pissed off cow as good as any man. This last one is what makes me believe that I may have hit my head a few too many times growing up.

You see, my Dad raises Texas longhorn cattle. Now while these animals are generally pretty mild tempered creatures, they do have a tendancy to get a bit irritable. Namely during calving season when they're protecting their calves. Anyone who's ever watched the PBR rodeo knows that a person probably shouldn't try to take on a 1500-pound animal that is obviously irate. Try telling that to a 90-pound girl who thinks she's made of steel!

My Dad would go out to tag the newborn calves. And as you can expect, their mother's weren't all too impressed with the idea that this man was grabbing their bawling babies and apparently inflicting severe torture on them. My dad would hand me a pitchfork and tell me, "Now you just stand between me and that huge pissed off cow and if she gets too close, you poke her with this here pointy stick!" Sure thing Dad, whatever you say! And there I'd stand with my pointy stick while that cow pawed and panted and tested just how sharp my stick was. Did it ever once cross my mind that she weighed almost 20 times as much as me and her horns were as long as my pitchfork? Heck no!! Cows can't hurt you! That's just silly!! Did it ever enter my thoughts that I was holding off a 1500 pound cow while my Dad was wrestling a 60 pound calf? Well, no. I didn't know how to tag a calf & give a shot. Besides, I've got the pointy stick and he doesn't!!

This was pretty common practice on the ranch for many years. I got to be pretty good with that pointy stick!

It wasn't until I was well into my teen years that I started to realize that my Dad didn't always have the best advice. We were working cows one day and there was this younger cow who'd gotten seperated from her buddies. She found herself in a mess of older cows who were sorta picking on her. By the time we got her worked up to the shutes, she was pretty upset over the whole ordeal. I penned her and two older cows into a small area that leads to the shutes. Unfortunately, I couldn't latch the gate because she was so worked up that I would be risking a broken arm if she happened to hit the gate at the precise moment. I yelled over the fence to the men that they really needed to get this young cow out because she was desperately trying to escape through me. In the mean time, I just stuck my pitchfork up to the gate and gave her a little poke everytime she thought she was going to come back through it. Of course, in a situation like this, nothing seems to go as planned and the two old cows quietly took the lead through the shutes leaving a panicked youngster alone in the pens. Between pokes, I'm yelling at the men to hurry their asses up because this bitch was determined she was going out the same way she came in. And frankly, the only thing that was stopping her was an unlatched gate and me with my pointy stick!! Here's where my Dad's wonderful words of wisdom come into play. "If she tries again, just don't poke her with the pitchfork, we're almost done!" Okay Dad, whatever you say! Cows can't hurt you!! I'll just show her my pointy stick and talk nice to her!! And that's what I tried to do. At that precise moment I learned several things:


  1. Cows CAN hurt you.

  2. Dad DOESN'T always know what's best.

  3. An unlatched gate is not nearly as effective at stopping a cow as that POINTY STICK is

  4. A cow can EASILY plow through an unlatched gate if she so desires

  5. A gate can bounce back and hit you FOUR times before it finally stops swinging.

  6. A teenage girl can bounce off the fence behind her FOUR times as the gate hits her.

  7. Metal cattle panels will leave FOUR sets of really cool grid-shaped bruises on your back.

  8. A cow can slam you into a cattle panel hard enough to create purple bruises in 3 MINUTES FLAT.

  9. A teenage girl can be slammed between a gate and a fence and NEVER drop her pitchfork

  10. A teenage girl can THROW a pitchfork across a pen when she finally stands back up PISSED OFF!

  11. After being slammed into a fence by a cow you are capable of stringing 15 swear words into a sentence and STILL have it make sense.

  12. A 300-pound man will MOVE out of the way of a 100-pound teenage girl if she is pissed off and cursing like a sailer about the incompetence of the MEN who were calling the shots.

  13. Nothing tastes better than biting into a STEAK from the cow that slammed you into a fence.

  14. AND most importantly, never be afraid to use that POINTY STICK!!!