The Not-So-Great Pumpkin

My friend Susie K. hates mums.  Apparently, in New England, the minute the calendar says "First Day of Fall", buckets and pots of mums cover every porch, table and mailbox in Massachusetts.

It's not charming, it's monotonous.

I feel the same way about the crazy autumn pumpkin mania that sweeps the entire nation.

Starbucks has a pumpkin spice latte, IHOP has pumpkin pancakes, Italian restaurants have pumpkin gnocchi, risotto, spaghetti.  All the recipes on the internet and in magazines are for pumpkin-themed foods.  The seasonal candles are pumpkin spice.  

And there are so many other cozy fall flavors that could be celebrated!  

Maple.

Apple.

Rum.

Butterscotch.

Toffee.

It's not just the barrage of pumpkin products that drives me a little crazy, but also the insistence that I embrace it.  

Example:

(Coffee shop)

(NOT the one in Jordan)

"Hi! I'd like a short triple breve' with caramel flavoring, please."

"Sure.  We have Pumpkin-palooza, too..."

"REALLY? (little sarcastically said, maybe) I think I'll stick with the caramel, thanks."

"Do you want to try Pumpkin-palooza WITH the caramel?"

"No...I really just want the caramel.  No pumpkin anything in my coffee."

(And here's where the tone turns frantically insistant...)

"But Pumpkin-palooza is only here for a LIMITED TIME!!"

Thanks be to God.

Shipping 2013

The neighbors show up bright and early with their trailers and wheelers.

We reward them with coffee, rolls and breakfast burritos or sandwiches; I think guys that have had a little something warm to eat and good conversation to start the day out are happier and friendlier to work with. 

First bunch is in and ready to sort.  We sort the calves off of the cows, then sort the heifers from the steers.  The steers are the only ones who get to go for a ride on the trucks.  The heifers are weaned in our corrals, then wintered here on the ranch.

So, SO cold and frosty the morning we shipped! This plow is gorgeous in the frost, though...I always stop and admire the curves and angles of this particular one.

We have a bunch of pairs that we sort at a different set of corrals, then haul to the main place to be weighed and loaded on the trucks.  It was bright and sunny, there...same morning!  I don't have time to take pictures of the actual sorting and loading process because I'm part of it, but afterward, I took a couple pictures of the mama cows looking quite concerned that their babies were no where to be found.  (This is Daisy's bunch.)

I love how the old barn and corrals look in pictures with the cows, but to actually use them is sort of a pain.  The guys have been replacing gates and pens gradually, so that has taken some of the sport out of the whole thing...in a GOOD way!

Confession: Maggie stayed home from school for the morning so she could be part of shipping.  She ate about three cinnamon rolls, drank as many cups of cocoa, chatted with the neighbors and truck drivers, helped sort cows down at Jacobson's, froze her toes, then went back to school for the afternoon.

Here are some of the steer calves, yelling for "M-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-h!".  Aren't they stunningly full and even?  653 pounds was the final pay weight.  Every year, they seem to shrink before my eyes the week before shipping until I wake up on shipping morning just hoping beyond hope that they'll break 600 pounds.  Every year, though, they somehow manage to fill back out just in time for shipping day!

Another group of mamas...you can just FEEL how cold it is by looking at the color of the sky, can't you?

The Boss...
I think he must have had a Valium cocktail for breakfast because he was pretty cool on shipping day! Either that or he was like me, up at 4 a.m., and was so tired he couldn't work up the energy to be frantic....

Neighbors who are telling great, gossipy stories...I just KNOW it...but the minute I get close, they get all proper and discuss the weather.  Some year, I'm going to do a "Mic'd Up on Shipping Day" with Dennis Green and that will be some serious entertainment, folks.

Trucks, on time for once, ready to be loaded with prime beef...

Zee Local Brand Inspector and Scale Guy, running a bunch to the portable scale to weigh.

Here's the scale that we rent for the morning.  A guy brings it out from Miles City, backs it up to the loading dock and we weigh the calves.  The benefit of having the scale right here on shipping day is that the calves won't "shrink" (lose water and manure weight due to stress) by being hauled 10 miles to the next nearest scale.  3-5 pounds of shrink can make a big difference some years!

See?  It's certified by the great State of Montana to be all legal and everything!

She doesn't trust paparazzi...

This picture is crazy and typical to me, all at once.  We live in a black and white world almost all winter, with little patches of accidental color to feed our eyes and souls.  Even this tiny piece of blue sky feels like a treat on such a grey day...

Frost on my mother-in-law's tree...

Frost on the barb wire....

After lunch, when everyone else went home, the Boss, the Farmer and I worked our tails off setting things up, tearing things down, fixing fence and fighting stubborn cows who insisted on breaking through gates and fences to get back to their calves.  

It's always such a good feeling, though, to have the steers on their way and be buttoning up the fall!

A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT!

*ahem*
(Patricia Hunter, look away...this may be too painful for you.)

THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES AT HOME IN FENWAY PARK LAST NIGHT!!!
Fenway is 101 years old this year, and the last time the Red Sox won a World Series there was in 1918.

And I wanted to party like it was 1918 last night, but we had shipped calves and fought cows all day, so it was all I could do to stay awake for the end of the game....
But I DID, and sat on my sad little couch and cried tears of joy and exhaustion when Uehara threw that final strike.

I agree with my friend Emily (Patricia's daughter who sadly inherited the Yankee gene) that sports can be a distraction from the hard things in life, that we watch sports to be able to "get away" from the issues in our lives, in the world, that are too big for us.  I know I do.  This fall, my family has very graciously and generously gifted me the television for the World Series.  Apparently, they figured it was easier to join me than fight the passion.

And speaking of the passion for the Red Sox...
(Did I mention that they WON THE WORLD SERIES?!?!?)

There's a Dropkick Murphy's song about the Red Sox and Fenway, called "Tessie".  It's one of Angus's favorite songs, mostly because it sounds a lot like shouting and if you sing it in the car with the windows rolled down, you won't get in trouble for making lots of noise and being unruly.  That's the point of the song, really.

We are getting our own Tessie this Sunday.
It's really fortuitous, since THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES LAST NIGHT AT HOME IN FENWAY PARK FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 95 YEARS!

Here she is:

She already has a Boston Red Sox collar and food dish and everything.  

That little white spot on her head looks sort of like a heart, but we suspect it may actually be a baseball diamond.  

Either way, we can't wait!

It's a good year to be a Red Sox fan.

Because, you know...

THEY'RE THE WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS!!!

(Incidentally, I'm wearing my tiara for a week in celebration of this momentous occasion! Everyone thinks I'm nuts anyway, but what no one realizes is that it was gifted to me from a St. Louis Cardinals fan.  That's right.  The team that the Red Sox beat four times out of six to WIN THE WORLD SERIES!!!)

(Not that it's a big deal or anything...)

And if you're interested in hearing the "Tessie" song, go HERE.

You've heard the saying, "Big fish in a small pond"?

Garfield County is a small, small...SMALL...pond.  

And the "fish" here aren't big, but they have no boundaries. 

They're pretty nice, for the most part, you know?  They're not malicious or devious.  They just don't see anything wrong with asking you what you're doing in town on a Sunday afternoon without children, why you're buying cumin for goodness sake, and who was that with you last week when you stopped in the store all dressed up on a Wednesday.  And they don't hint around.  They'll just come right out and ask!  Nothin' subtle about finding out your business, now...don't skirt the issue.  Inquiring minds want to know.  

Yesterday afternoon, I ran to Jordan to get some groceries.  Thought I might slide in under the radar, with church crowds gone and hunters not knowing who I am (or caring).  

Right.

At least four people asked me what I was doing in town, and three of them wanted to know where the kids were.  One person went so far as to ask why I didn't come in to the bar, ever, and tear it up on Saturday nights....AFTER getting the goods on my Sunday outing.  

And I listened to two or three other people stating their business after being asked directly.  (There's always that moment of panic and you can see it on the face of the person who has to "reveal all"...what if this isn't a valid reason for being in the grocery store at 2:30 p.m?!?)

I've got to tell you...

It really brings out the worst in me.  

I find myself wanting to make up something outrageous to tell them....something horrific, that would cause their jaws to drop, an involuntary step back in shock.  

You know.  

Something like:

"Oh, I'm just getting a few things for the ritual wiccan blood offering ceremony tonight at Cohagen.  Full moon and all..."

or

"Off to my first PETA meeting in Missoula!"

or

"I'd love to stay and chat, but my pole dancing class starts in a few minutes and I have to get changed into something more comfortable...."

Isn't that terrible?!

You'd think I'd be used to it, having grown up here, but it still sort of bothers me.  I don't have anything to hide and I'm NEVER doing anything spectacular or sinister (darn it!), but at the same time, it's just...nosy.

NOW, if I want to tell the world here on the Chronicles, that's quite another thing!

:)

Stayed tuned for the next post on how I REALLY feel about pumpkin everything in the fall...