Sunset In A Southwest Oklahoma Cowpasture

Sunset in a SW Oklahoma Cow Pasture

Oklahoma sunset from the cow pasture.

Enjoy one of your favorite views on your birthday, Gramps!

And this poem is for you, although I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to saddle your Arctic Cat. Have you?

Enjoy Cold Morning courtesy of High Plains Journal and a great cowboy poet and fellow Oklahoman, Joe Kreger.

Cold Morning

By Joe Kreger

It’s daylight now; snow fell last night. Then, the wind came up and blew it. You’ve already got your coftee drank, so it’s time to go and do it.

Twenty years ago, it was easier to get started in the morning. But age is a lot like snow storms. It hits you without warning.

Gettin’ older is plumb natural. It’s not like some disease. But, you really start to notice when it’s only three degrees.

I remember when my winter gear was a jacket and wool shirt. Now it takes about seven layers to keep out winter’s hurt.

Well, I’ll let the sun get higher. Believe I’ll drink another cup. Sure hope nothin’ happens to make me saddle up.

Hope there ain’t no cattle out. I’m not wantin’ to mount my steed. It won’t be so bad, if all I do is just chop ice and feed.

Sure hope no calves are sick today, and no cows are needin’ treated. I’d like to do my ridin’ in a pickup that is heated.

I could use a little winter help, but I’m glad that there’s no witness to observe this old hand a workin’ in his present physical fitness.

‘Cause when I’m totin’ buckets or choppin’ ice in the snow, I pause in my exertion by raisin’ up to blow.

There’s just somethin’ about workin out in the snow and cold that makes your wind come harder, and you start a feelin’ old.

And cowboyin’ loses its luster when the gates are all froze shut, or when you’re stabbin’ for a stirrup and you slip and fall on your butt.

I know you do what you gotta do, regardless of the weather, but winter dang sure ain’t my choice when it comes to poppin’ leather.


Joe Kreger writes from his home in Tonkawa, Oklahoma. His books and CDs are available from the Journal by calling 1-800-954-5263.

Y’all have a good weekend. God bless, and enjoy Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver doing Beyond the Sunset For Me

 

Shakespeare and the Drought Map

And…I see all y’all out there scratching your heads and going, “Eh? What in the world has Shakespeare got to do with the drought, or really anything at all? The dude’s been dead for, like, a million years.”

Well, let’s get to it.

ShakespeareSonnet 29

When in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d, Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least.

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

–William Shakespeare

Yes, we are in the dark red area

Yes, we are in the dark red area

The drought map above paints a pretty good picture of our weather situation these past few years. Probably all us farmers and ranchers in the dark red areas have, at times, felt as though we were troubling a deaf heaven with our bootless cries. But then, when we look around and see how we’re blessed, we remember heaven’s not deaf and it’ll open to us again someday. We’re one day closer to that Big Rain.

And that, dear friends, is what Shakespeare has to do with the drought map–

Okay, I see hands raised  all over out there in the dark red areas.

(Oh, boy, here we go.) “Yes, Gramps. What is it?”

“What happened to his boots, anyhow?”

“Well, for pity’s sake. Were you homeschooled, or something?”

Sorry, we’re all out of time for questions.

But what do y’all think?

  • Is Shakespeare awesome or what ?
  • Will the heavens in Oklahoma open again?
  • Do any of you publicly educated people know why Shakespeare would be bootless?
  • How about you homeschoolers? (And does your mom teacher still have to tell you to brush your teeth? Oh, my, goodness, she does, doesn’t she? You get in there right now and brush your teeth. Is she gonna have to tell you every, tiny, little thing to do all your life…?)

(Taking some deep breaths) Okay, I can see we have a real problem here, so I’ll conduct a scientific study to see how publicly educated people stack up against the homeschoolers on defining “bootless.”

I’ll start by contacting homeschooled Son 1, Son 2, and Son 3. (Oh, man…What if they don’t know the answer? That would make me look like an idiot as a mom teacher  blogger. Maybe I should call and tip them–No, Danni! Must not cheat on a scientific study…)

You may answer any, or all, of these pressing questions in the box below.

Join me next time when I’ll publish my honest to goodness findings. Until then God bless all y’all.

 

My Chickens Live in a Bus

A barn housing chickens raised for meat (calle...

For my first blog post ever, I want you to know what kind of ranching outfit you’re dealing with. My chickens live in a schoolbus. I just didn’t want anybody laboring under the impression our place looks like the swanky outfit above .

Gramps (his code name) and I didn’t really see eye to eye on converting a school bus to a chicken dwelling. I thought the bus was tacky, he thought it was cool. This is us discussing it.
Gramps and Nana yelling

Throughout rural America,  hands are raising with many more questions
about old schoolbuses. Do I see a hand from Missouri? Yes, I do.IMG_1269

IMG_1270

Go ahead, Hon, name please? Huh? Okay, Lovinia,  what’s your question?

“I sure like the color of a nice ol’ schoolbus. Do you think I should order yellow chickens this spring? Maybe Buff Orpingtons? I also like school bus yellow so much, I’m thinkin’ of colorin’ my hair to match. Have you got any thoughts on that?”

Yes. Don’t do it. Go for it with the Buff Orpington’s, though. They’re mighty fine chickens.

Allrighty…from Oklahoma. (Okay, I know this guy. This is gonna be good.)

Name, sir?

“You know my name, Danni, and my ol’ back ain’t what it used to be…cain’t you unbend enough to let me modify that chicken bus with an automatic manure spreader?”

No.

And one last question from an anonymous Okie woman in the back row. Yes, ma’am, speak up?

“Would an old schoolbus work as a doghouse for the hubby?”

Oh, bless your heart. It certainly seems like it should if it doesn’t leak, but I couldn’t say for sure since I’m not familiar with your bus.

But what do y’all think?

  • Are little chickens who live in a schoolbus smarter than their peers?
  • At college age, do they perform better on their SAT’s, or are they just plain dumb?
  • In your opinion, is an old schoolbus sitting out in the yard a crime against the color coordinated everywhere, or do you think it’s cool, too?

Please answer these pressing questions in the comment box below.

Until next time, enjoy Dailey and Vincent doin’ By the Mark, and God bless y’all.