I've Done Tolt This Here Story Before

I saw this on Facebook and got a large charge out of it, because I've seen this tableau before. Poor ol' Lady, my long suffering Golden Retriever, would find herself in this position with a problematic skunk that I eventually killed. She was mighty peeved, but she never put herself behind the bully, and she'd stamp her feet in disapproval. Much more than that might have provoked the little bastard. She was very territorial when it came to her food, and wasn't much for sharing. Not. One. Little. Bit.

But when you're outgunned, what do you do? Lady lived to fight another day without having her sense of smell destroyed.

Movie Consultant

One of the advantages and disadvantages of blogging is that you do become a figure accessible to the general public. All in all, I have found this to be an advantage - I've enjoyed my interactions with the varied folks I've "met" through blogging and social media.

One of the things I've been pretty quiet about is that a group of Australian prospective filmmakers decided I might be an authority on farms in the early sixties. They were putting together a short that they plan to enter into the film festival circuit. I kinda had to abandon them later on because time became an issue, but I sure enjoyed giving them my opinions on locations, decor, how a farm looked, clothing, accents of the actors and so on. And they were very nice with me as well.

I've seen their original rough draft - and I really enjoyed it. But, like I said, I felt I needed to keep my mouth shut, as it were. However, they have had their screening (in Australia, of course), and they have a trailer posted to Vimeo.

So, without further ado, the trailer for The Landing:

The Landing | Short Film Trailer from Perception Pictures on Vimeo.

Not Just Colorado Farmers

I can sure remember Dad getting a call, running outside to his tractor, hooking up to the offset disk, and roading off to help with making a fireline.

That is just something you do.


H/T Jed

Landlord No More

Some of you already know this - and I was keeping pretty quiet online about it - but I finally sold the family ground. Since Sis and I have half shares, we split it down the middle. The money is enough to help out for some time, but it is not even close to being enough to retire on. Half sections of ground, while the price has gone up, are not that high out here compared to dedicated corn and soybean country.

Since the ground does not get enough rain to continuous crop like the guys in Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and so on do,we have to summer fallow it, which means it sits idle for a year before it can be planted again. With the way the weather has been cooperating, that means I'm all in once every two years. This year, it was several late freezes plus drought that knocked it out. Two years ago, drought and hail - but the miniscule amount sold for a price I certainly wasn't used to. In all the years that I've been in charge since Dad died in '98 - Sis and I have gotten exactly one crop yielding over thirty bushels to the acre. I can remember Dad hitting it two or three times, but Dad generally planted milo, and had cattle. So he had three possible revenue streams. It got to where we just never could get milo to grow well enough to pay for the seed, so we stopped that. As a landlord, I rented out the pasture rather than run cattle.

And having the old farm house burn down didn't help either. I'd have liked to put something out there, but even after selling it I don't have the money to do much other than to plant an older used mobile home. It's cheaper for me to rent the place I've got now and it's a lot more convenient to "live in town." I'd have figured differently, but it turns out I'm a lot more adaptable than I thought I was.

And Sis could sure use the money as well.

And I sold it to the family that had been leasing/renting the place already. So, it's gonna stay a family farm. Dad would like that, I think.

So, I'm gonna be getting a new incisor crown - I've been toothless up front for long enough. Y'all probably know about the new pickup, or assumed that since I sold the old one. I've got some health related issues that need to be addressed, so I'll be taking the time to do all that. When yer on an hourly wage and ya ain't workin,' it makes it tough to pay the medical bills, much less the rent and other things.

And, I've always admired Charles for his World Tours. I'm not sure just how far I'm gonna get, or how long I'll stop, or much of anything other than I do want to to to OKC ( and I really, really need to see Chaz), Grand Rapids, MN, and Michigan to see relatives. Not sure if I'm gonna make it west to Denver - I've got an uncle there I really need to see (as well as several other people....). I've got another couple cousins on the west coast, but - well, not sure if I have the time to do all the other stuff and go thataway. Of course, this means that I'll be wanting to see all my online pals I've never met - Grey Havens, Farmer Frank, and Gawd willin' and the crick don't rise stopping off in Indy to meet the residents of Roseholm. I'm sure it would be best were I to time it to drop in on one of their blogmeets, should they hold one again. Not limiting myself to just this list, either - just don't want to get to detailed and promise something I cannot fulfil.

And I'd dearly love to see my dairy farming family buds in upstate New York, as well as Tatyana in NYC, but again, not sure about time to travel and all. I know Tatyana is dying to have me tour "her" city that she is so in love with, and it would be so awesome to see the crew at Northview. Were I to go that far east, I could not forgive myself were I not to see Washington DC and the Smithsonian, Philadelphia and other historical sites of interest.

I haven't even set the time yet, nor how much time I'll take. I've got three weeks (one benefit of seniority at this job), plus some personal days, but again, I'll probably approach this on a "when I decide to leave here, I'll go" basis. I'm kinda tired of hauling ass to get to a site to get unloaded, and hauling ass back to go out again. I'd kinda like it to be MY idea for a while.

So, there you have it. I may be coming to a town near you. Tickets iz free.

Remembering My Dad

This post by drjim put me in the mind to reminisce about my father a bit. Our relationship was pretty tumultuous, and a large part of that was my fault. He automatically wanted things from me I wasn't willing to give, and I was willing to fight about. Which, according to his lights, was verboten, since I was his son and he was The Father. Respect for him to his standards and his way of thinking was me submitting to pointless domination. Not my style.

On the other hand, he did instill in me some pretty valuable morals. One of his pet peeves and now mine is that you should own your mistakes. Lame excuses, never taking responsibility for one's actions, lying and denial set his teeth on edge. That was a mark of deficiency of character to him.

One thing he did that I have been unable to match was his service to various committees and boards in the area. First and foremost, he was heavily involved in the VFW. Dad dressed up for a ton of funerals back in the day. He was on the local electric cooperative's board, as well as the Soil Conservation Board. He spent a lot of nights making hard policy decisions no one else wanted to do, with no pay. My current profession prevents me from similar efforts now, but there is no doubt I will never match his contributions in this manner.

A lot of what I learned from him was based on his actions. Fighting through blizzards, dragging hay bales over snow covered fences to feed hungry cattle in freezing weather. Struggling to get a tractor to run in that same weather to move snow or feed. Once, we got in a shipment of calves. They were not settled in - used to their new surroundings - when a wicked thunderstorm passed through. They panicked, and through the corral fence they went (you cannot stop cattle with most fencing). Dad was up most of the night gathering them back in the dark. Or the uncounted worried conferences with the neighbors over a problem calf that just wasn't responding to the various treatments, even up to calling the veterinarian out. Or the nights spent on patrol during calving season, to help cows who might be having trouble giving birth.

Or perhaps the sight of him crying quietly on the front porch during a hailstorm, knowing that this year's crop was going to be completely trashed. Or up half the night checking the temperature worried about a late freeze killing the wheat (what has already happened this year - not gonna be much if any crop at all already). And I'd also seen him a couple times standing out on the very same front porch, sobbing quietly because he'd managed to grow a bumper crop. He was sad because he couldn't share that with his father, who'd had very few crops like that himself. And to note - since he has passed, I have celebrated exactly one such crop. They are rare for a dryland farmer out here.

At any rate, what he taught me was a love for the land and the knowledge that we are connected to the land and it's occupants intimately. That we need to pay attention to what we see, and how we react, if we wish to profit and even to survive here. And that it is truly beautiful - the birds singing in the mornings and evenings, the deer frolicking, cottontails playing, calves kicking up their heels with their grumpy mothers watching closely. The hawks patrolling the skies looking for their next kill. Cocky pheasants strutting their stuff within rock throwing range (until hunting season - then the wily suckers hide out). Mourning doves and their lonely calls. The coyotes howling their songs in their native tongue. The marvelous, dangerous beauty of thunderheads growing malevolently in the sky. The many hued sunsets - beautiful apterif for a long hot day. Grabbing a handful of freshly worked soil, still slightly loamy with the smell of future growth. Oh yes, these things I learned from my father. Not my mother, who was a city girl at heart.

My father was a farmer/stockman born and bred, as was his father before him, and his father as well. Such is the stuff they were made of, and I remember my father in this manner as well. He sleeps peacefully in his grave on the prairie.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there, and for the rest of us, remember yours.

Plantin' Milo

Ya ever wanna know what it's like running one of those big four wheel drive tractors? This is a Ford New Holland pulling a planter seeding grain sorghum, or milo. I've talked about this crop before - it's mostly used as cattle feed and there is anADM  plant in Dodge City that mills milo into flour that is mostly used for making sheetrock. It can be used as a food item which is more popular these days since it it gluten free.

At any rate, you get to see the various controls, gauges and the GPS system at work. The planters have folding marker arms that leave a trail for the next round, and since the planter is so wide, they have to fold. Our old planter markers just picked up and rode vertically, but these things would be quite unable to clear power lines if they did not reduce their vertical presence. You get to see the graphics showing the large band of freshly planted ground moving next to what is already planted and is not - plus the warning when he reaches the end of the row.

He's pretty busy then - folding up the marker arm, lifting the planter out of the ground, unfolding the other marker arm, and resetting the GPS. You can also see he is rocking around in that seat - that ground may look smooth, but it is assuredly not, and tractors have pivot articulation on the front axle only - the rear is completely solid. About all that does is make sure the tractor has all four sets of wheel on the ground when it really gets uneven - if the front did not pivot, one or more corners would be off the ground and the tractor would be stuck right there.

And compared to what I ran, this puppy is livin' in the lap of luxury. It's all pushbutton, super quiet well sealed and extremely temperature controlled cab, better seat, and some real legroom. I'd hate to pay the fuel bill, though.

Hope y'all enjoy this peek into farming on the prairie!

Blatantly stolen from Joey Woods on Facebook

You've Probably Guessed By Now

My feelings on the subject at hand.

Cruise Up and Down This Road

I just got through reading a book that just stunned me with the familiarity with my formative years. Robert Rebein, who is originally from Dodge City, has written a book about growing up in the old cowtown. I graduated in 1977 from Cimarron - eighteen miles to the west of Dodge, Robert in '83. He has captured the essence of teenage prairie living, and in fact, life on the prairie, period, for all ages. The name of the book? Dragging Wyatt Earp: A Personal History of Dodge City.

There are parallels for us and differences, of course. He was raised in a large Catholic family and went to Sacred Heart School in Dodge. Small Catholic family here, but I have had experience with nuns in Catechism (at St. Stanislaus in Ingalls) and at St. Mary of the Plains College in Dodge. Dragging, or cruising Wyatt Earp was a bit more of a destination for us than him - we had our own route in Cimarron with much the same social rules. We had some reverence for dragging Earp - it was in the Big City, there were People Who Might Want to Fight (particularly if one strayed further east of Boot Hill, where the gangs were), and there were more fast cars and hopefully fast women there. A sort of Mecca, as it were.

The book is divided into three parts - Part I: The Town, Part II: The Country, and Part III: Of Horses, Cattle and Men.

Part I contains the chapter Dragging Wyatt Earp, and here is where most quotes I've read have been pulled - mostly because they're damned good.

Wyatt Earp, to us, was not a person but a place, a mile-long ribbon of asphalt that stretched from Boot Hill on the east to the Dodge House on the west

Wyatt Earp, the historical figure, really didn't make a dent in our lives. The street probably had more influence on us. But another observation Rebein makes really hit home for me:

What is it about growing up in a small town in the West that breeds such bravado, such innocence and blind faith? Was it our isolation? The vaunted self-reliance of the region? The fact that our parents and teachers praised us inordinately or that acceptance into any of the state colleges was a fait accompli? Maybe but I have another explanation:  we were leaving. And not just for a year or five years, but forever. Like the region's cattle, wheat and corn, we'd been raised for export, and most of us had learned this at about the same time we learned that Santa Claus was a fiction.  

We'd been raised for export.

It's true. Since day one, most of us knew that our parents wanted something better for us, that we were to get an education away from cattle and farming, and leave. Find a job we could love, get married and raise kids in a more forgiving climate.

There were exceptions - many were being raised to take over the farm or the family business, which most have done with great aplomb with no regrets. Some of us found we didn't really want to leave - that the lonely, rough, inhospitable prairie is something we love.

Part II contains some of the history of our little corner of the prairie, and Rebein's personal search for Quivira, the legendary home of the seven cities of gold that the Spaniard Francisco Vasquez de Coronado sought. His trips to several Indian massacre sites, seeing the Flint Hills led him to discover that the preferred campgrounds of the Cheyenne mirrored his own choices (and mine as well) - a scenic area sheltered from the incessant winds with water, game and grass. He also talks a lot about hunting - something that for most of us is akin to breathing.

Part III is all about the cattle and cowboys. I can certainly relate to the cattle - I've doctored, herded and branded many a heifer or steer (and made 'em steers in the first place). Dad didn't believe in keeping horses, so I have never really ridden or learned to ride - just never had the inclination. So, am I a cowboy? Not so much, and never will be. Robert Rebein is, and regales in the experience, making me realize how much I missed. He also spends some time doing some modern cowboying - working as a pen rider at a feedlot managed by one of my ex neighbors. I say ex, because I'm a townie these days, but his house was on my route to work for the past seven years before the ol' place burned down.  And he is the epitome of a modern businessman cowboy, and Rebein captures him elegantly and truthfully. There is certainly a cool factor in reading about your neighbors in someone's book.

There is so much more in this book that I am not even beginning to cover here. I think that anyone raised on the Great Plains would find commonality here, and those who weren't surely could see the attraction to our choosing to live here. It was a great regret when I reached the end.

The book is also available in Kindle format for $9.99 - it's how I read it (Amazon's Cloud Reader browser plugin). If you might wonder what makes me and my compadres tick, this will surely go a long way into gaining some insight.

Highly, highly recommended. Sure wish I could write as well....

Droughts Have Consequences

Just found out about this today - it's already happened.

Cargill Inc. said Thursday that it will indefinitely idle a Texas beef processing plant that employs about 2,000 people, primarily because of a dwindling cattle supply that is largely a result of drought.

The shutdown in Plainview, Texas, appears to be the first among major U.S. beef processing plants, as the industry's profits have been squeezed due to overcapacity.
"The idea of closing one or more of our major beef processing plants is not a big surprise," said Derrell Peel, a livestock specialist at Oklahoma State University's agricultural extension service. "It's been a matter of who blinks first."

Minnetonka-based Cargill is one of the biggest U.S. beef processors, and Plainview is home to one of the agribusiness giant's five sprawling plants that take in live cattle and ship out boxed beef.

The same economic dynamics that led to Cargill's Plainview closing have sent retail U.S. beef prices soaring the past two years, and no relief is in sight. Peel said retail prices could rise as much as 10 percent this year.

That would be after increases of 6.4 percent in 2011 and 10.2 percent in 2012, according to federal data.

Cattle ranchers can't even begin to rebuild their herds -- a multiyear process -- until the drought subsides. "Right now, [relief] of the drought conditions doesn't look very favorable this year," Peel said.

The Plainview shutdown begins Feb. 1, though Cargill says it will take measures to preserve the plant's "infrastructure" for potential reopening if the U.S. cattle herd rebounds. The plant in north Texas processes 4,500 head of cattle per day.

"While idling a major beef plant is unfortunate because of the resulting layoff of good people ... we were compelled to make a decision that would reduce the strain created on our beef business by the reduced cattle supply," Cargill Beef President John Keating said in a prepared statement.

The U.S. cattle herd is at its lowest level since 1952. "Increased feed costs due to the prolonged drought, combined with herd liquidations by cattle ranchers, are severely and adversely contributing to the challenging business conditions we face as an industry," Keating said.

By idling its Plainview plant, Cargill says it can operate three of its other big beef facilities on a five-day-a-week basis more consistently. Cargill plants in Friona, Texas; Dodge City, Kansas; and Fort Morgan, Colo., will receive cattle that normally would be slaughtered in Plainview.

Cargill doesn't break out results for its myriad meat businesses, though it has noted that its U.S. beef profit margins have been under pressure. Many U.S. beef processors are suffering losses or getting poor returns on the investments, Peel said.

The U.S. cattle herd has been in a long-term decline for years, particularly since about 2007, Peel said. Since then, grain prices have shot up due to structural changes in grain markets, thus precipitously boosting the price of cattle feed.

The 2012 drought, the nation's worst in decades, sent corn to over $8 a bushel. The heart of cattle country experienced its second straight year of very arid conditions, toasting pasture land.

More from the Star Tribune

I've hauled tanks for rendered fat and other liquids down there several times over the years. So, until the beef industry picks up again, Cargill Plainview is right out for us. We do business with the other plants as well, but still. The other plants can take up the slack, and I'm glad Dodge City's plant is one where they plan on expanding production, but transportation costs on that pound of hamburger just went up.

What a mess.

Brotherhood

link

I've only seen this commercial three hundred twelve times since the Super Bowl. It's only put a lump in my throat three hundred twelve times.....

Sheesh. Fleetwood Mac with Stevie Nicks' Landslide? A story of loss and redemption? All in just over a minute?

Gah. Now I need a beer.

God Made a Farmer

link

Out of all the commercials aired during the Super Bowl (can I say that Commish Goodell, or are ya gonna sue me?), this one presented by Ram Trucks pretty much won the popularity contest in this neck of the woods - had we any trees. Perhaps I should say out on the wide open prairie. Using an old bit by Paul Harvey was just pure genius for tugging at the ol' heart strings.

It sure made us all feel pretty proud of ourselves.

You Can Take Me From The Farm

But you'll never get the farm outta this fat farm boy.

And us fat farm boys kinda like what lots think is way outta the mainstream, like organ meats, for instance.

Yep, this is liver and onions, only with mushrooms and a little bit of green bell pepper.

Normally I like to cut the liver in strips, but I was lazy tonight. I dredged the slices in some flour with some garlic powder and black pepper mixed in, and dropped them into hot oil. I kept a close watch, because overcooking will make this stuff tougher than boiled owl. In fact, I just browned the second side enough to fix the flour in place, more or less. I then added about a half large yellow onion, the tip of a green bell pepper, and a handful of mushrooms. I prefer some sort of red wine or cooking sherry for a sauce, but all I had was a Bock beer. I poured the whole bottle in, and mixed in some beef bouillon granules and more black pepper. I also turned the heat way down and put a lid on it to simmer.

It was a little thin, so I mixed up a bit of flour and cold water in a coffee cup and tossed that in. Thickened nicely.

Turned out really tender, so I did it right. I was kinda wondering how the beer would work - I think I like wine better as it makes the dish taste "richer" if that makes any sense. It seems to have a more complex flavor - maybe that is a better way of describing using wine.

But, hey, it worked out fine. Some brussel sprouts with butter and ReaLemon on the side - yum! I didn't get to involved with side dishes because trying to cook that while keeping track of how tough the liver can get just don't mix well for me. Normally good at multitasking in the kitchen - but you gotta be on your toes with this stuff.

Ignorance Is Bliss

This picture appeared on my Facebook news feed, and frankly, it pissed me off. The page Knowledge Is Power posted it. I'm sure it was put up just to spark discussion, but what the statement implies belies actual hands on knowledge of how that "acre" is used and works.

Yes, when one compares total acreage in the US, one can see that producing vegetables is a pound for pound winner.

However.

That acre of ground cranking out the tomatoes? Labor freaking intensive and the crop requires a certain temperate zone with lots of water.

That acre of ground cranking out the beef? Chances are it is in grass because that is the only thing that will grow there plus it's being used to hold the soil in place. It's too rough to use for farm ground. It does not have enough available water to grow vegetables. The labor supply is too short to tend to them. The winter temperatures are far too low and the growing season too short.

The undiluted fact is that we aren't completely stupid out here. Potatoes have been tried, along with other crops. What grows out here on tillable ground is wheat and grain sorghums, and corn/soybeans if has enough ground water for irrigation, along with hay and alfalfa. The Ogallalla aquifer is being depleted growing just these things right now - how fast would it drop if some granola munching hippies forced us to grow potatoes and tomatoes? How about the grasshoppers? Can we use pesticides in this brave new farming world? If you want veggies, you'll be spraying.

In order to actually grow that stuff out here, you would have to repurpose the farmground. Working up a bunch of draws and bluffs ain't gonna work, so that grass would have to remain, unless you want all of the ground to end up in New Orleans. Then you are gonna probably have to haul in a bunch of sand to mix in the soil - the clay composition naturally here does not support vegetables. Once again - water. Once again - the huge amount of labor required to tend to the plants and harvest them.

I see a fair amount of veggies grown in Eastern Colorado along the Front Range - stuff like onions and cabbage. Cabbage is harvested by running a wide platform with a row of seats so the workers have a place to sit and pick the cabbage as the platform runs through the field. Onions are harvested mechanically.

But none of those grow here.

It seems people have it in their heads that cattle are raised on grass paddocks like you'd see around Churchill Downs where the racehorses can frolic. Nope. It's the roughest, toughest, driest and most inhospitable ground we've got.

The whole idea of self sustainability depends on the ability to actually grow everything everyone needs within a short radius. Not gonna happen here or about anywhere else. We can raise beef more efficiently and cheaply out here, ship it to you, and still beat the price of locally grown labor intensive stuff. Other areas can raise tomatoes far more efficiently than we can, so if we want tomatoes, they're gonna have to be shipped here.

Self sustainability is a bong influenced pipe dream.

All Cleaned Up

Last Saturday members of the local Mennonite church came out and cleaned up my mess. They brought equipment as well. There were about twenty five volunteers, not counting the women who brought out some lunch. They all prayed, and fell to doing some very dirty and unrewarding work.

We've had some rain since the fire, and the pasture is actually greening up in the burned out areas. This picture doesn't show it very well.

This is the view from north of the house looking right at where it used to be.

This is the view from the front drive. All the questionable trees have been uprooted and buried, the foundation, the well pit, the septic tank and all of the trash has been buried. The head of the project told me they were going to salvage as much iron and steel as possible to sell and give me the cash, but I told them I would donate it to the church. Good grief - I should be paying them. No way I could accept that money. The Mennonites are always in the background of our society out here - you just never notice them until you are out around their farms. They are never involved in politics, they school their own, so no social interactions at the local football game, and so on. However, when the chips are down, they arrive, ready to assist in whatever fashion they can. I am extremely indebted to my community as a whole; the support has been overwhelming. This was just another example of the generosity of the human spirit in southwest Kansas.

The View

From the front porch of my temporary abode. If you like open spaces and cattle, this is the place.

Looking west. When I first stepped out, I had a cadre of calves who's curiosity overcame them and they lined the fence checking me out. Even the one out by the cow in the foreground was walking this way. One of the calves bawled out in a remarkable baritone, and that got a cow from the yard directly in front walking over. She looked the bunch all over, looked at me, and tossing her head, snorted rather derisively, if I do say so myself.

Well!

She just kept right on plodding along - I'm sure she was walking around the back side of the place to go to water, and the calves fell in behind her. Of course I had been talking to the calves, which seemed to prompt the big bellow from the little feller.

Whatcha lookin' at? You lookin' at me? Well, are ya?

Perhaps I've been out here too long.

Looking east at the pens - already drinking up that water! The float seems to be always down - it rarely gets caught up. I can hear the water running most of the time. Those cows really suck the tank down. The horses off to the right are a little more self service - and are in a separate pasture entirely.

Looking straight south. Not much to see or to slow down the south winds. Not much in the way of anything to the north, either.

It looks like the place in town oughtta be ready by the end of the week - with the new tile and flooring plus me moving stuff in. I'm trying even as we speak to get satellite tv, phone and innertubes scheduled. I'm sure hoping I can get all of that in this week - I need to get back to work.

I really do like it out here, but wow - it's just too far for my gas budget. Cimarron is about another fifteen miles away over the twelve I'm used to. Garden and Dodge are also further away. Jetmore, on the other hand, is far closer. Not that I have anything against Jetmore, but being closer to there is not high on my wish list.

So, I'm amassing a supply of items I need. Went to swat a fly the other day, and here in Cowboy Man Cave there were no fly swatters. Seems like I do not possess any, either, these days. So much crap, and I won't remember it until I need to use what I do not have.

But, it's just stuff, and it just costs money. Heh.

The "New" Temporary Digs

This is the Wright place I've been mentioning. It's probably ten or so years newer than my old joint, and it's really in pretty good shape. Central heat and air, the hallway still has wood floors, and it has the advantage of being out in the middle of nowhere beyond where I was.

 

The place sets off the road a bit, so trucks and other vehicles driving by don't disturb. Pretty private, really.

Coming up the drive.

Mama and two babies in the lot.

Google's aerial view.

The neighbors have their "best" cattle here - purebred Angus cows. They've been experimenting with some AI as well. These cows are not used to me or much of anyone at all. I get a kick outta watching them watch me. I'll be doing something outside and feel eyes on me, and there will be a cow or three peering from behind the garage or some bales with a major look of distrust. If they had arms and standing on two legs, their hands would be on their hips with the elbows out, giving me the "what the hell do you think YOU'RE doing?" look.

The calves don't care, and the two horses are bored. I think I'll avoid crossing the barbed wire just in case - I'm a big guy, but those cows dwarf me. Just. In. Case.

The rental in Cimarron should have the new tile installed by Monday, and my legion of volunteers should be ready to move stuff in and out of the way of the installers Saturday. I won't be out here very long. If it weren't further away from anything than I was used to, I'd sure consider staying here. The place definitely has it's charms. I'm probably fifteen miles further from work, Cimarron and Dodge City respectively.

I am totally blown away by the response the community has had towards me. I fell right into the bosom of my small town, who has welcomed me. And I'm getting help from the online community as well.

Y'all rawk.

Meet Bob

Bob is - well, the nabes aren't totally sure. Part Australian Shepherd, and maybe even some Border Collie. You can really see the shepherd in his hips and butt - he has that rounded look, and his body is fairly long. Bob actually visited me Saturday, and I saw him again Sunday, when I took this pic. I'd seen him some time back when he was just a pup. Pretty well behaved as far as staying home. I hope he comes to visit me more often. Not much of a cow dog, just a shy, quiet, well behaved pet who really likes his ears rubbed.

I sure miss having a dog on the place.

Makes Me Nervous

photo from Wikipedia

One of the many advantages to living out on the ol' prairie right smack dab in middle of nowhere in flyover country is the nominal quiet when the wind isn't blowing. This means that one can hear the birds sing, and there are plenty of those out here.

The mourning doves own the super early am and the late evening - I'm serenaded by dozens in the calm of a morning an hour or so before sunrise. Their calls all seem to sound the same at first, but then you start hearing little artistic differences between the birds - some hang on to a certain note longer, some are tenors and a few are bass - at any rate, it's somewhat soothing.

Another overachiever is the mockingbird. I seem to have a couple around every year, and the songs start well before sunrise while other birds are still logging inner eyelid study time. What is cool is the repertoire varies from day to day, and it's hard to tell just what those silly birds will pick up. I've heard that in cities, they mimic car horns, parking brakes on semis and so on.

But what I do find alarming is one song in this ol' boy's playlist. I swear I've heard a rattlesnake rattle, then a rabbit scream, only to realize it's the resident warbler - and that call shows up about once every other day or so.

What bothers me is I have to wonder where he heard that? That's gotta be a pretty good sized buzzer if it's hunting rabbits, if you know what I mean and I think that you do.

I Hear It!

During the drought of the past several years, well, it's been dry. It's been so dry that the toads haven't bothered to come out. I suppose the past few rains we've had were not enough, and not warm enough.

Monday night, things really popped out at the Poor Farm. We got a couple inches of rain, but not without the drama of withering hail and a tornado. I, on the other hand, had my butt parked in a motel north of Des Moines, so I missed it, and my poor hail pounded pickup did as well.

I got home last night with the Mighty Binder, and is my wont, stepped outside during the evening. Wow!!!

Thousands and thousands of toads, singing their song, the occasional croak rising above the chorus.

Welcome back, my singing friends. It ain't just birds that we like to hear out hyar!

Hatch Status: Unbattened

Well, ya have all probably heard about all the tornadoes in the Midwest Saturday. Five people dead, at least twenty nine injured (from what I read -  in a trailer park) in Woodward, OK - a city northwest of Oklahoma City, OK.  Kansas - no dead reported, one still missing. At least one hundred tornadoes were reported as of this morning across the area including Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska and Iowa.

There was a tornado reported north of Dodge City, KS Saturday afternoon. It tracked on the ground for over a half hour. That was the closest twister to the Poor Farm. I'm about twenty five miles northeast of downtown Dodge, and I'm not sure where the track was. Not too much in the way of populations between Dodge City and Jetmore - the nearest town to the north.

Wichita was hit. McConnell AFB, Boeing and Spirit Aerosystems all reported damage, and there a damage track leading from the southwest side, across I35 south, then to the east side of the Air Capital. Governor Sam Browback has declared Sedgwick County (Wichita) a disaster area.

video credit KWCH.com

The video is interesting because it's a compilation of several different tornadoes. The last one is interesting because it looks like the funnel does not reach the ground, then as the newly formed tornado ages a bit, the visible moisture cloud is gradually sucked down to the earth, and if the ground is dusty, the debris is sucked up into the vortex, making it more visible. The point is - just because you can see a tornado, and it looks like it isn't touching the ground, chances are good that it really is and you just cannot see it. I've seen several of these ropy twisters, and when close enough, one can see the clear vortex. Sometimes, the bottom will be loaded up with dirt and debris, the middle clear, and the top part dark and cloudy.

Sometimes, when one of these forms at night and it is raining exceptionally hard, you really can't see these things at all. The weather prognosticators speak of this often when it happens just because the situation is so dangerous for those in the path, those spotting, and because if it's probably there, but they're not sure exactly where - well, you get the idea. I've heard the weather guys call it "rain wrapped" and that is as good a description as any. Luckily, I've never seen or encountered one like that. I've just seen the flashes of lightning outlining a funnel at night, or seen 'em in broad daylight.

This outbreak was for sure the worst of the year so far, but it wasn't the first tornadoes of the year, and it surely won't be the last. It's just a crap shoot out here on the prairie until late fall. Been rolling lucky sevens so far!

And prayers to those whose lives were affected by this latest rounds. I've helped with a clean up or three, and while most survivors feel very fortunate that they are still alive, it is still stunning to deal with the destruction of their property. Not to mention those families in Woodward who lost family, or have people in the hospital.