LOSING GROUND

Not much different than cows
who think they pick their way
grazing where they want, we

welcome the visiting gods
with wagon loads of plans
to improve our farm ground,

shopping centers in alfalfa fields,
foothill cities where only leftovers
trickle down. We surrender

to the hard and lean times,
let them have their way
like the natives before us.

 

 

The long-awaited General Plan Update 2:00 p.m. today,
Tulare County Board of Supervisors.

Groundswell

Wagyu Calves continued…

Robbin and I fed and checked the first-calf heifers this morning to find three new calves, and unfortunately, a 4th born dead to what would have been a nice cow. The heifers are beginning to set up nurseries and segregate themselves from those that are farther off. Despite thinning the coyote population, we always feel better once the nurseries begin to develop.

AMBIGUOUS SOLACE

I keep all my shafts of light loosely wrapped
in tissue paper, dust motes swirling perpetually
in beams through cracked shingles on the shed

roof as we took turns urging invisible steeds
to new adventures, towards friends in town,
exchanging reins behind the empty tongue

of the manure spreader parked for decades,
just in case, beyond the barn and vineyard
canes waving at all time gone by before us.

Or through the stained glass high above
the carved oak pulpit in the adobe chapel
where I heard the call as a tiny particle

washed and floating in God’s eye, yet soon
forsaken once outside perfection. Or just before
she died, the pastel heavens streaking through

February clouds gathered before the dawn
upon the whole Kaweah watershed as folds
in her bedclothes—loosely wrapped and close

for times like this, saved to stave the hateful
rhetoric of prejudice and fears—as my ambiguous
solace from the obvious on election years.

ENEMIES

Too often, I start with the conclusion
and walk backwards to make sure
I don’t lose sight of it, check

perspective with each sliding, baby step
to peer through holes in the rocks and trees
for dark movement, like cattle grazing

in the brush across the canyon. Sometimes
just parking, letting your horse stand as your
combined eyes and ears inhale the hillside

while the world’s clock ticks, skipping a few
beats to fall out of sync with the perfect
perjuries, can be enough in your quest.

But beware of slogans and sure sounds
that stir the blood without warning, bait
traps and ensure a life of hating enemies.

Robbin and I got out early yesterday to check our 1st-calf heifers on both sides of the road: four calves on each side with quite a few heifers close-up. Then moved the water on the pasture before putting-out some molasses tubs on the way up to Greasy. We were delighted to see this little bunch of turkeys—the same bunch of hens banded together with their offspring that we saw while gathering and weaning last June. They made it!

THE EDGE

I might as well be naked, shoeless
in the brambles, useless as the clear
blue sky than to leave without a knife

folded in my pocket, its smooth bone
wearing new denim thin for decades
pressed against my left thigh, still

ready for work. So long ago, you
can’t remember your Christmas gift,
our any excuse to swap cutlery, a Case

Copperhead, four-inch lock-back blade
of surgical stainless steel that still glints
beneath my moustache, feeding hay—

old flatbed rocking on auto-pilot
across a blond oat flat, shiny black
heifers lined-out happy behind me.

Each time I reach to unfold it:
we are young men. Yet,
so much depends upon its edge.

                                                            for Gary

August Sunrise

August 18, 2012

Our days noticeably shorter, we’ve lost about an hour’s daylight in the morning since the Summer Solstice. This photo @ 6:24 a.m. Our high temperatures, still above 100°, but we’ve enjoyed the break from 110°.

IDES OF AUGUST, 2012

The heat on, set over 100 degrees,
cottontails lounge in the dust,
share shade with squirrels and quail

beneath the gooseneck. No talk
of politics, healthcare or guns, no
plan hatched to overthrow the sun.

Woodpeckers wait in line to cling
to leaky faucets, sip a drop at a time.
Roadrunners multiply before our eyes.

Veterinary Drugs and Photo-Allergies

For the past year, I’ve been dealing with a perpetually peeling face, that at its worst would burn and peel in three to four-day cycles, shedding skin in sheets, stay red, itch and continually sting with the heat and exposure to the sun. At its best, the cycle might take as long as a week or ten days to complete, but could occur all times of the year. Until recently, I’ve had no relief.

With dramatic improvement this past week, I’m fairly confident that we’ve finally found the cause(s) and share my odyssey in this journal with the chance that it may offer clues for some who, like I did, might search the Internet to identify and thereby find some insight. But perhaps more importantly, I’ve loosely documented my experience as information for those who make their livings in the livestock industry.

My problems began in the summer of 2010 after processing our yearling calves during weaning that included the application of the fly control product Cylence with a leaky applicator gun on an especially hot day. Using my bandana to wipe perspiration from my face and glasses half-a-dozen times during the process, I was unintentionally applying the concentrate to my face. An hour or so after, my face was on fire. I flushed it in a cold shower for fifteen minutes to gain slight relief. The burning lasted for several days and seemed to dissipate completely in a week or ten days.

However, after any long exposure to the sun, similar, but less intense symptoms would return. I addressed this with the sunscreen Vanicream 60 SPF and bumped along the following season with occasional flare-ups and minor discomfort. My complexion is light, always susceptible to sunburn as a child at the beginning of every summer. About ten or twelve years ago, I had to exclusively wear long-sleeved shirts, because when working in a T-shirt, my arms began to swell and itch.

During the processing of our calves in the summer of 2011, I was applying Cylence once again, but with a new applicator gun, trying to keep my hands clean and much more careful with the product. We are a tough bunch, survivors of the old days and ways and not ones to wear latex gloves or other such protection. Though we’ve never had to do this in the past, today’s chemical products are much more sophisticated and complex as they address ever-adapting livestock pests.

After another burning red face, cold shower and returning symptoms, I went to the drug store to buy the highest SPF sunscreen I could find. It didn’t help my face that began to burn, peel and itch regularly. Furthermore, my hands began to itch and peel as well. I searched the Internet for some information on what might be happening to me and finally went to the doctor in December 2011 who prescribed Silver sulfadiazine for my face and Fluocinocide 0.05% ointment for my hands while referring me to a dermatologist.

With no improvement in February 2012, the dermatologist suggested discontinuing the Silver sulfadiazine and prescribed Hydrocortisone butyrate for my face, Clobetasol Propionate 0.05% for my hands and gave me a sample of Aveeno Baby 30 SPF sunscreen, explaining that it was all I needed. After exhausting the sample and unable to find Aveeno’s Baby sunscreen at the pharmacy, I purchased a tube of Aveeno Continuous Protection 30 SPF sunscreen instead. I continued my normal ranch activities with a little improvement to my hands as my face got worse. At the end of July, my dermatologist conducted a patch test as we looked for the standard allergic reactions to grass and weeds, including alfalfa. None.

On August 7, 2012, a biopsy was conducted. Results pointed to a photo allergic reaction to some topical agent. Sunscreens were at the top of the list, Aveeno Continuous Protection 30 SPF sunscreen containing three of the chemical compounds on the list. Furthermore, the antimicrobials used in veterinary medicine were also included as common photo allergic agents, such as Chlorhexidine found in the disinfectant Nolvasan, and Fenticlor found in liniments for horses. The list also included the hexachlorophenes found in Dial soap and Phiso-hex, but more importantly in the Acaricides we commonly use for dewormers and fly control, namely Permethrin, Pyrethrin, Clyfluthrin found in pour-on products like Ivermectrin and Cylence.

My conclusion, at this juncture, substantially better but not completely free of the symptoms, is that the initial culprit was the pour-on Cylence, exacerbated by Aveeno Continuous Protection 30 SPF sunscreen. Be careful with pour-ons and to avoid photo allergic reactions to sunscreen, use products with only Titanium Oxide and/or Zinc Oxide in their ingredients or consult a dermatologist.

As my father often said, ‘most people learn the hard way, but only a few from the mistakes of others.’ I truly hope you might learn from mine.

STAYERS

Almost every morning, we bump-up against
the old days over cigarettes and coffee cups
to bore the be-Jesus out of whichever young buck
happens to politely listen to yesteryear. All the men
and horses with big hearts tough to get along with,
that walked this ground when it was hard, harder than
Billy Hell without a 4WD and RTV. We start our days
amazed how far we’ve come to this perspective,
surviving floods and drought and them with
bigger calves, better corrals and goosenecks.

How envious they must be, looking down in disbelief
—quick pause to nod ‘tween ridge and dawn—
we go on and on, and tell a couple twice before
we remember what triggered the tale: something
out there come alive in our collective mind
before we join them. When I was seven,
you were my first cowboy hero at sixteen,
and now we laugh at the last-half century
without regret, without one ounce of lament,
glad to have a job to do and tickled with life.

                                                                        for Clarence