Tag Archives: Thanksgiving



A pause like prayer,

a nod to the gods holding

the wild together.








Nothing near, the long-term forecast

changes on the hour as we look out

over Christmas color, out of storage early,


at independent calves at water,

and our persistent green still breathing

with each dawn’s dew. Almost everything


we need is near-at-hand before Thanksgiving

with a welcome splash of cheer

as we wait for rain, like always.



Happy Thanksgiving!!



With much to be thankful for, not the least of which is ample rain to get the grass started, Robbin and I wish everyone a good-sized portion of our gratefulness.


Ranch Journal: Having Fun (6 pix)


With no worries about stockwater nor under the gun to feed cattle everyday, Robbin and I went to the Paregien Ranch Saturday to check on the bulls we put out Monday and to cut a Kubota load of stove wood ahead of the rain forecast for Tuesday and Wednesday.


The grass is fading in places but the cows are holding up fairly well with growing demand from their calves. What feed we have lacks strength, but with our reduced numbers, the cows are staying full.


We were a curiosity to a couple of bull calves, approaching three months old, as we cleaned up a dead tree near the solar pump that we installed this summer. Robbin took pictures while stacking the brush.


Liking the smell and taste of the wood chips and sawdust, I was worried that they might try to lick the chain saw blade.


Just checking on our cows and calves and cutting wood are the fun jobs we haven’t had the time or luxury to enjoy,


and getting comfortable with relaxing seems to come in stages after virtually two years of feeding and trying to keep the nucleus of our cow herd intact. But we made real progress towards becoming human again over our fun-filled Thanksgiving weekend.


— Happy Thanksgiving —

IMG_8021 - Version 3




Once in awhile a fellow blogger will poke a poem out of me. Thanks Evelyne, I feel a little better now:


Herd camped at the gate,
waiting for it to open
to the corral,
to the lead-ups and chutes
for processing
before spitting them out
to rush into another
crowded pen

on the TV news as if
Wall Street’s making hay
with everybody shopping
for the holidays—

as if we’ve traded
mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing
and gravy with cranberries
and family for a bargain
with a credit card—

as if all the cattle
really want in.