Oh, For Tech's Sake!

Some of you know that I really, really love football. Some of you know that I really, really, really love the Texas Tech Red Raiders. Some of you know that I also really, really love my friends, Scott and Traci Glasscock who love the Texas Longhorns. Some of you know that three of us friends have a girl's weekend for our birthdays in September, and the husbands join us on Day 2. It's the best weekend of the year, and we all look forward to it and hang on to the promise of it when things are going rough the rest of the year.

I just looked at the Red Raider's football schedule.

Yes, as you can see, my Red Raiders play their Longhorns on Couple's Night of the getaway weekend. When we are supposed to be sitting in Old Piney Dell Restaurant, plowing our way through the best food to be had in the great state of Montana. When we are celebrating Traci's and my birthday. When we laugh and drink outrageous wine and talk about anything but kids and farming.

This is going to be a SERIOUS test of our commitment to friendship, tradition, and sportsmanship.

I just have to say this: Last year, the Red Raiders, in a stunning ESPN-worthy moment, dehorned Texas in a really big, televised game. So the Horns are out for revenge. AND this 2009 game is televised, on ABC.

SO....

Scott Glasscock and I will be sitting there, at the restaurant, trying not to bolt to the nearest television, and making small talk with the others while trying to hurry them along with their steaks and twice baked potatoes. And I realize not everyone is quite as excited about football as I am, so I'm going to work on cultivating some self-control between now and then.

And I also realize the odds of the Red Raiders winning this game are not all that encouraging (Texas is #2 in the pre-season polls), but anything can happen, you know?

Mercy!

Stay tuned, the weekend of September 18-20th, to find out how it ends. (Hopefully, not the friendship...)

Bulls

Today is Day 3 of the Bull Removal and Relocation program, a job we do every early August. They've been in with the cows for a little over a month, taking care of business, and now it's time they come home, to rest up and prepare for NEXT June. Yeah, it takes them that long.

As you know, when we move cows, I wear makeup and earrings, because it's good to remind the guys that there is a woman in the mix. It doesn't seem to create any more empathy or leniency, but at least they are reminded. But when I get ready to move bulls, I always think, "It's so I'll look good in the ambulance."

I'll tell you right here and now that I am really scared of bulls. My Dad did a good job of putting the fear of those black devils in me, and I've seen what they can do. They weigh over 2000 lbs, easily, and they don't care if they smash whatever is in their way. Yesterday, one of them shoved another with all his might, and the underdog's leg snapped, in two. Their legs are BIG, like the rest of their bodies, and it just popped like a twig.

We are on 4-wheelers, and there's no protection, to my perception. To the bulls, we are just really irritating flies with wheels. And my father-in-law and husband really and truly expect me to wade in there and show them who's boss. Neither the bull, nor I, are really convinced of that. It's some pretty high adreneline stuff, considering we are in rough country, the bull has the weight and mobility advantage, and knows the pasture better than me. I keep telling myself that I can do long division and he can't, but somehow that's not all that reassuring, the idea of superior intelligence. And if you take a whole person, and divide them up into the parts that a bull could make you, it's less comforting. Perhaps I should look into another example of higher thinking....

And the guys really are not all that worried or concerned, and they are rather amused by the bulls, after they ram them with their 4-wheelers and shout obscenities at them. And they know I'm scared, so that makes it a little more amusing.

My Dad wouldn't let us near the bulls, and I remember him on one occasion, using buckshot on a bull. I have a lot of respect for that man. If I had had a gun yesterday, I think I would've used it. But the job has to be done, and we are down to using women in the mix. It's a hard-won privilege, to be allowed to help with the cows, and I really do love being out there. With the COWS.

So, I see by the clock that the hour has come to face the job. My funeral plans are in the front of my Bible, along with the list of pallbearers and choice of minister. (You laugh; it's true!) I'm going to wrastle the kids into the car and haul them to Grandma's house, and put on my Texas Tech cap and Nutra-lix sweatshirt for courage, and wade in. (That's the best I can do, armor-wise. Sad, sad, sad...)

The Chronicles continue....

*Update: I lived! Unfortunately, the bull with the broken leg did not. There is no way to repair a broken leg on a bull, and we were unable to get him to the sale barn in Miles City. If we had taken him to the sale barn, he would've had to have been able to walk off the trailer on his own power, AND not have a fever, which he almost certainly would've had, in order to sell him through the ring. And we had just taken another lame bull to the packing plant for hamburger, so there was no possible way to salvage the meat. A sad ending for the bull, but I'm glad he isn't hurting anymore. Without being unnecessarily graphic, the leg was only held on by hide. It was awful and this was the right thing to do.

We only have one more bunch of bulls to get, and we're going to wait a few days on them. The guys are working on getting the combine running for harvest, and grain cleaned out of the bins. There's so much tension, because we are teetering at the edge of harvest, and it continues to shower, the hoppers continue to close in, and the crops are ripening unevenly. Without a big heat blast, to finish it up, the crops languish. And every rain lowers the protein in the seed heads, which is the big nutrient, and the higher the protein, the better the money. It's a nail biter, I tell you, this ranching business! More later...

Ten Commandments of Coffee (according to me...)

1. Thou shalt have no beverage before coffee. In the morning, that is.
2. Thou shall NOT REHEAT old coffee left in the carafe, defiling the sacred cup. (And you know who you are....) There's always time to make one little fresh serving. Or to swing by a coffee shop, if thou art in a civilized geographical location.
3. Thou shall buy fresh beans, not grounds.
4. Thou shall not hoard thy fresh beans. Buy in smaller packages, and if they are in danger of going stale, have a coffee klatch to use them up.
5. Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's espresso machine. Make the best coffee thy can within thy means, and be grateful for thy French press.
6. Thou shall NOT consume or serve decaffienated coffee between the hours of 4 a.m. and 2 p.m.
7. Thou shall NOT BREW WEAK COFFEE. It is better to not brew coffee at all, than to dishonor the sacred bean in this manner.
8. Thou art prohibited from referring to instant granules and tiny tea-bags o'java granules as coffee. They also defile the sacred cup.
9. Thou shall consume coffee in conservative amounts on six days of the week, but on the seventh day, thou may pour an extra cup on the day of rest. (There are some, again, you know who you are, who abstain everyday except Wednesdays and Saturdays. Thou art twisted, sad individuals, and I am praying for you.)
10. If thine office coffee offends thee, step up and provide good coffee for the work force when thy can. They shall fall down and call you blessed, and thine influence will extend far beyond those generous carafes.