Wee Willy

What’s better than a pony for your kid?

A pony that you borrow!  Once ReeRee outgrows Willy, we will give him back.  It’s a wonderful arrangement- can you tell I don’t like ponies all that much (or goats, keep goats off the place).

Meet Willy!

WillyHe is a paint pony with one blue eye and one brown eye.  Best guess is he is 15 years old.  He has bangs like a ’80’s rock star!

Willy is small, even for a pony.  He is just ReeRee’s size.  After she fell off our big horse, she likes little Willy.

2014 Wee Willy and the boysBut he is just SO TINY!

He holds his own in the horse herd.  It’s your attitude, not your size that matters!


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Faith in People

We have had problems, lots of problems, with the house move.  Throw in dentist and doctor appointments the next day and my stress level was skyrocketing.  By the end of the morning, I had lost faith in people.

As you know, dentists are on my top 4 fear list.  #1 Dentists, #2 Bulls, #3 Electric Fences, and #4 Doctors.  Fear by proximity… if any of these are close enough to touch you, pain will follow.

I started the day finding out my tooth was still infected, but I had bigger problems.  Like crowning 4 molars that have already been filled at least three times.

My good dentist retired, and I miss Dr. Bill and the fact he took my insurance. sniff sniff.

I shuffled out of the dentist office downtrodden and depressed of the future bills to come.  Next stop was the lumber store that Gerkin Windows said was a dealer.  Brand new store, super clean, and multiple locations in other cities in other states.

During the discussion to get estimates for remodeling materials, Ryan, at XYZ Lumber, kept asking questions I couldn’t answer.  “I’ve built 30 homes, how will you trim the windows if you add drywall…”

I asked about Gerkin Windows- his reply, “Those are for modulars.  We build real houses here.”  “Maybe you should go south (to Menards) if cheap is what you want.”

I left feeling like trash, trailer trash.  And angry because I always let people trample on me.

Faith in people…gone.

Fast forward after another doctor’s appointment and to another lumber store who did carry Benjamin Moore paint (to finish one side of the “new” house, well Ryan wouldn’t consider it a real house).

This lumber store sat between two brick industrial buildings, abandoned with boarded up windows.  This building didn’t look much younger.  The trains roared by.

I miss the store because their small size wasn’t visible from the street.  It was a place you had to know was here.  Locally owned for decades.  Multiple locations in towns in Nebraska.

But man- the customer service!  I was greeted (a real greeting) at the door.  Two staff helped me figure out my paint color, then let me use the phone to call the previous owner because I had the wrong name.

“Country Red” was my note, “Cottage Red” or “Country Redwood” were my options.  Good thing I called, I would have picked the wrong one!

Then Julie helped me with windows, storm doors, and she loves to salvage (and didn’t wrinkle her nose when I suggested reusing old wood cabinets).  They give discounts, so send her a list of supplies and they would give me a quote.

I left with a gallon of paint and a renewed faith in people!

And a couple free paint stirring sticks.  Free is good.

I need to tell my dentist that.

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House Contractions

We bought a house, a double wide to be exact.  I haven’t slept for months after purchasing it, I worry all the time, and now I have “house contractions”.  Do I think of the finished house sitting at the ranch?  NO WAY- I’m finding movers, contractors, electricians, plumbers.  Then I remember this feeling.

I remember when I was pregnant with ReeRee.  Type 1 diabetic, the doctors, the appointments, the planning, the prepping, the overwhelming-ness of controlling bloodsugars.

I never thought of a live wiggly baby until Month 9.  I was too overwhelmed with the preparation to think of the final product.  Then you get your first contraction- the practice ones (I can’t think what they are called).

Then you realize… oh sh!t!  I’m not ready for a baby.  Pre-eclampsiaat 37 weeks!  I’m not ready for things to go awry!

Now I have house contractions.  The movers have started splitting the house.  The 100 sq foot mudroom that was added on fell to pieces when they picked it up.


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The Dear John Letter… reposted…

My dearly beloved,

I am so over you. Well, maybe not.

I have found someone new. Like, we just broke it off and I found him. It must have been fate last Saturday night. I still lie awake at night, tossing and turning, wondering why.

Maybe I still want to be with you because the entire world is telling me to break it off with you. And I am drawn to our old ways due to comfort, and the fact someone else said our perfect relationship was finished. My mind fights harder to keep your memory alive.

It’s been nearly a week. Mr. Someone-New is an early riser and we have enjoyed some beautiful sunrises that I never saw with you.

True, I may have bags under my eyes from the sleepless nights. But I am so over you.

Until I hurried to work this morning. I was late and should have left by 7:30 am! I started the engine and the clock came on. The digital numbers said “6:30”.

And I realized, I’m not over you. I want you back, Mr. Standard Time! My Someone-New (ie. Mr. Daylight Savings) gets up too early. I can’t stand his new sleep schedule- seriously who goes to bed an hour early!?! I’m so tired. Sure, the sunrise is beautiful in the morning, until the sun’s rays crest the hills and blinds my retinas driving to town. I’m NOT crying, just tearing up from the glaring brightness.

Who knows, maybe we can work things out, Standard Time. It might take a while to compromise on our differences, but I think we can work it out.

If you need time, I have time. Let’s just set a random date… say November 2nd. If we can’t make up by then, I guess it is over.

We had a good four months together.

It’s only been a week, and I miss you. Waaaaa!

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Plant People are Weird

There is a division.  Plant Science/Animal Science.  Crops/Range.  Corn/Cows.  Plant People/Animal People.  Weird/Normal.

The plant people have morphed from farmers planting corn to this weird, organic movement.

For example, my aunt gave me some dried fruit.  I probably would have ate more, but she said it gave Grandad diarrhea.

Not an image I want to come to mind when I bite into a dried apricot.  But I digress, this label was on the wooden box the fruit came in.

I thought, “Plant People are weird.”  As a cow producer, I could never made a label like this and make people want to buy my product.

Peach label

Don’t believe me?


Cow people should not try to be like Plant people.

Just not quite the same, is it?

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Free to a Good Home

Free to a good home, because I love her.2012-Fire-pictures-040

Free to a good home, because I hate her.

Cat on screen

I’m not a crazy cat lady, but I do like cats.  I hate this one.

We call her “Hissy Kitty” due to the constant/annoying/ear numbing MEEEEEOOWMEEEEOOWWmeeowMEEEEEOWWW.

And she bites your fingers when  you take scraps out, trying to get the first bite before the dogs.

And she hangs on the screen when we eat supper, peering in at our table.

And she runs into the garage and I have to sweep her out with my broom… every.single.time.

The last straw, she hid in the garage after Newt parked my car in.  He didn’t notice Hissy Kitty and left her locked in overnight.

I know she poo-ed in my garage, I just can’t find it.

Free to a good any home!

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The “F” Word

ReeRee is the right age to start picking up things in the world around her.  We hadn’t encountered swear words, yet.

ReeRee, Newt, and I were feeding this weekend.  Ree gets quite bored riding around in the pickup for hours.

After feeding the little bulls, we headed off to feed the heifers.

Makes me remember warmer days!  When ReeRee almost had the bulls tame enough to eat from her hand.

ReeRee: Daddy, are we on the path to go to the farm?

Newt: THE WHAT?!?  (Background: ranchers do not like to be called farmers, especially in the fragile Sandhill ecosystem where plows destroyed the native grasses.  Don’t get me wrong, I like farmers.  My grandpa was one.  But farmers and Sandhills are like kerosene and fire.  Not a good combo.)

Newt gave me side-eyes in the cab of the pickup… can you believe our daughter said the “F-word”!?!  I could read it on his face.

ReeRee: The ‘arn.  The barn.  Are we going back to the ranch?

Newt breathed a sigh of relief.  The ranch, not the farm.

So far, we are still F-word free.

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Caking the Bulls and Mares

It was a beautiful day.  The only adult creatures left on the ranch are the bulls and mares (everyone else is enjoying a buffet of cornstalks).

The pasture is quite hilly and hard to get around in the pickup.  But the view at the top is worth it.

High view of hills

The bulls and mares only get fed twice a week, so they usually lumber up and devour their 18 pounds of cake.

Big bulls

This bull looks sleepy.

Sleepy bullNow he looks wild…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe mares look a little thin on winter range and cake, but they fatten up when the spring grass arrives.

Caking maresThe buckskin mare is mine.  She still has a few colts in her, but we are trying to get out of the colt business.  She is free to a good home- anyone?

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My New Bike

I got a new bike.  The cheap-skate in me had a hard time putting down four Benjamins for an exercise bike, but the budgeter in me realized all my savings from firing my crummy endocrinologist.

After weeks of shipping (long after my zeal had subsided), my new bike arrived.

the new bikeYes- it was broken.  Of course this was the last part I assembled, so I didn’t notice until I had put the entire bike back together.

So much for "new"Oh yeah, this too was cracked.  Just cosmetic.

NOT cosmetic!  During shipping they dropped my bike badly enough to crack the cover and bust the styrofoam under the bike.  Little pieces of my bike was in the bottom 😦

The rough handling also broke off the sensor inside.

The bike didn’t think I was pedaling and shut off after 5 seconds.

Another month until the repair man could come, so I improvised.  IF you held the heart sensors and set your resistance level BEFORE the bike timed off (a whole 5 seconds), you could continue to petal UNLESS you released the heart sensor.

When I called the bike company, I asked if they knew where I lived (aka the boonies).  Oh yes, no problem, a repairman will be dispatched.

The repairman traveled 350 miles from another state.  Figuring in mileage, his time and labor- the company would have been better off sending me a brand new bike.

Oh well, the bike works now (except for a slight thump when at Level 5) and I appreciate my mph, distance, and ability to change resistance much more.

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New Year Resolutions

A new year is here.  Well, January is almost gone.  I usually set some lame New Year’s resolutions, but I’m not this year.

I am keeping all the resolutions from previous years that never lived passed January 2nd.  Like a house where Newt works (so we can see him during calving, AI season, brandings, weaning, pregging, shipping), better bloodsugars, get back into shape, and find more time for myself.

I want to blog more to keep family and friends updated, which means less scheduled posts and more random thoughts.

Cheers to old resolutions!


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