(Note:  Because of the number of Mad Jack columns, we will be breaking them down in time frames, so you can go back and enjoy some of the older ones, give us a little time to get this organized, thank you ED)

THOSE EMBARRASSING MOMENTS THAT LIVE FOREVER

 

I’ve had them, you’ve had them, gentle readers. Yep, those times when we have inserted our foot

in our mouth and are havin’ a tough time removing it. It’s like the time long ago and far away when I

worked for Sears. I sold washing machines and like appliances. This fella comes in with an older looking

woman to buy a new washer. You know, the Kenmore is the best! They looked, ask a few questions and I

decided to open my mouth and without a doubt let them know I was an idiot instead of keeping it shut

and let them wonder about it. “Is this yer mom yer buyin’ a washer for”? I ask. “HIS MOM, I’M HIS WIFE,

LET’S GO, NOW!” With a silly grin on his face he said, “just relax for a moment,” while I was doin’ my

best to back out of that embarrassing blunder. They left, she cooled down and they came back and bought

a washer and dryer but she gave me “THAT LOOK” every now and then. Once again when the overweight

woman with three little ones taggin’ along behind her approached me about a dryer, I just assumed that

she was with child due to the extended belly. “When is yer baby due”? I gleefully spoke. “BABY, WHAT

BABY”? Here we go again. Folks, it seems that I just can’t keep from being nosy in a friendly sort of way.

On the dance floor a few years back was this huge feller, but let me tell you he was a graceful dancer and

plus all that, if you didn’t get out of his way he would just run over ya. What are ya goin’ to do with a

big ol’ boy that weighs four hundred pounds and can reach down and touch his toes? I saw him do it.

Well, he did sort of bounce me off stride when he passed and I was a little unsettled. I was sittin’ with

my date after coming off the dance floor while dancing with her friend. I leaned over and ask, “DID YOU

SEE THAT BIG FAT GUY RUN OVER ME JUST NOW?” “With a concerned look on her face she meekly

spoke,” you mean this guy right behind you?” Are you kiddin’ me Charlie Brown, this big dude had come

over to ask my date for a dance and I didn’t see him behind me. I just can’t seem to learn I reckon.

Very recently at the doc’s office the nurse returned to the prep room and said, “The doctor wants a

urine specimen Mr. Hanks”. I swear on my life gentle readers, I heard her say, “the doctor wants a

HEARING SPECIMEN!” “WHAT, SHE WANTS A HEARIN’ SPECIMEN, YER KIDDIN’ HOW DO I DO THAT?”

“A URINE SPECIMEN, SHE WANTS A URINE SPECIMEN”! Of course she does, I knew that. I ain’t makin’

that up, that’s exactly what I thought the nurse said. I hope it gets better as I get older, sure do!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and remember, if yer ridin’ a bronc, do yer best to keep yer

back pockets below yer eyebrows! I’ll, c. y’all, all y’all.

As a sidebar, the Hoots from the ONO Ranch cartoons you see each week, I have the 81/2″X11″

originals of pen and ink on card stock. If you see one you can’t live without, they are $50 bucks for

one and $40 for ea. after that. Just send me the caption (little words at the bottom) and I’ll try to

find it for you. I have over 1000 on file! Gracious!

7-26-2018

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN COWBOY AND COWGIRLS

According to what I have observed over the last few decades sometimes there is no difference between the two except the obvious, of course. I have worked with gals that could “cowboy” right along with their counterparts and many times do a more complete job. Women, for the most part, in my humble opinion, are more focused on their responsibilities than the average cowboy. There are times when folks are given the title of “cowboy” and it isn’t remotely possible.

For example: a few nights ago I was having a conversation with a lady school teacher who also was a barrel racer. I’ve never seen her without her cowgirl costume on. Hat, boots, jeans, western shirt and many times spurs, even when she goes dancin’. She wants ever one to know she is a “cowgirl”. I reckon she is a cowgirl that may not know nada about “the cow” or how to perform ranch duties. Do ya see where I am going with this? Her boyfriend works in the medical field and at one time had two ‘back yard” horses and she refers to him as a “cowboy”. I had to be Mr. Smarty Pants and tell them that my qualification for a “cowboy” was someone who had roped and tied down and doctored cattle on the open range by themselves. Isn’t that what cowboys do along with a hundred other chores on the ranch?

At this point we have to, In my opinion, sort off the working ranch cowboys from the rodeo cowboys. WHOA!

Now don’t get mad, I know many ranch cowboys that rodeo and rodeo cowboys that could go out and work on most any ranch any where. I have had numerous team ropers come out to the ranch and want to help the crew doctor cattle on wheat pastures. I always let them as long as they didn’t “rodeo” sick cattle by draggin’ them around and around trying to get their hocks roped. Hummm….” this dang horse of mine is not focused, the sun was in my eyes, my rope is stiff today” and on and on went the excuses while they couldn’t catch a cold out in a big wide open pasture. Sometimes I couldn’t either but I didn’t go on and on as to why other than I was a sorry hand with a rope too much of the time.

I see where at Cheyenne Frontier Days this year they added women’s bronc riding. They could hold on to a “sugar string, night latch” or their rope to stay aboard. (a night latch, sugar string, is just a small rope or dog collar run through the gullet of your saddle). I have seen women bronc riders ride with one hand in the air and put on one heck of a ride. GO LADIES GO!! I doubt that any of these gals took up bronc ridin’ just to have something to do. I betcha’ most work or have worked on ranches.

I’m sure most of you have your own description of what a “cowboy” or “cowgirl” is and that’s fine with me.

I didn’t aim to step on anyone’s toes or make ya swaller yer chew, just doin’ my column here.

As a sidebar, those cartoons, “Hoots from the ONO Ranch” that ya see here each week, I have the originals for sale. Yep, the originals are 8 1/2 X 11″ on cardstock and they are $50. signed and delivered. All you  need to do is to email me and give me the “caption” (the little words in the cartoon) and I’ll try to find it for you.

Remember there is only one original and I have a file of close to 1000 originals I need to get rid of some. Thanks again for taking your time to read me each and every week. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, and remember a good cup of coffee early in the morning is as welcome as a “love ya babe”! I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

5-31-2018

THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER

 

Yes ma’am, it is the first day of summer June 1, 2018. I’ve been lookin’ for this day for a good while as I expect many of you gentle readers have. The month of June provides a lot of action for farmers and ranchers. Lots of planting going on while making plans to cut hay next month. It’s branding time on the ranches and that’s the cash crop for many in the livestock business. I will be receiving a handful of pairs and a bull to run through part of the summer here at the ONO.

When I looked out at a few minutes after five this morning and watched that red glow in the east it reminded me of those many mornings on the LX Ranch north of Amarillo when I would, along with a crew of cowboys, already be a’horseback and lined out by the cow boss where to ride to gather those large pastures. The weather always required a jacket as it was always a little windy and cool. A little wind down from Cheyenne this morning and cool when I went out to feed. By the time those cows and calves were penned on the LX and the branding ritual was started, it would be getting pretty warm, you betcha’.

I have been blessed with ample rain lately and have grass out the, well, I have an abundance of grass and of course weeds. I have spent the last couple of weeks mowing some parts of my pastures to knock down early weed infestations. I haven’t seen any rattlers as of yet but always keep my eyes on the  ground when I’m out and about.

I was informed the other day by a neighbor that his daughter in law’s mom fell from her horse while riding bareback on a gravel road. The horse wheeled to look at other horses that ran up to the fence.

She hit her head on the hard road, was rushed to the hospital but passed away from her injuries.

Sad, sad, so very sad. A terrible way for a family to start out the summer with such an unexpected tragedy. I said all of that to remind all of you to have fun but always be tuned in to the fact that these things can and will happen.

I have lots to get done this summer and am looking forward to the months ahead. I will miss the

Harley as I take a second glance at every bike that goes by.

I just heard on the radio that Florida is expecting to have a much cooler summer than usual. There goes that “cotton pickin’ global warming” again. I hate it when that happens.

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and remember to count yer blessings, love on your family, especially those kids, be reasonable in all you attempt and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

4-19-2018

THE RIGHT HAT

 

For most cowboys, their hat is as important as their boots, saddle, bridal and spurs. I read once

where a west Texas cowboy of some reputation was quoted as saying, ” when a cowboy (cowgirl)

is satisfied with the shape of their hat, they will always shape every new hat the same way”! I have

found that to be mostly true, but not always. I have found myself wearing hats with a little different

shape than I wore in years past. I have to tell ya, gentle readers, I am as picky about my hats as most

women are about their shoes, and that’s the truth. There was that time when I would have my hats

made for me exactly as I wished. Not so much any more. I just buy my cowboy hats off the store

shelf for the most part or special order them from a reputable western facility which carries a large

selection of GOOD hats. At present there are ten cowboy hats either in the closet or hanging on the

wall. I used to tease “Little Miss Martha” about how many shirts, pants and dresses filled her closet.

SHAME ON ME.

The way the weather has been behaving this spring I don’t know what hat to put on when I get

ready to leave the house. It’s cold one morning and not so cold the next. On the colder mornings

like this morning, I wore a black felt. Yesterday it was a straw, the day before it was a seed corn

cap as wind gust got up to EIGHTY MILES AN HOUR at times here at the ONO. I’m hoping that before

much longer the weather will settle down and I can just put on the summer straw and be done with

it.

I have a cute hat story about my dad. Mom and dad came to the ranch to spend a few days. Dad

went to my Sunday school class with me that Sunday morning. Dad being a deacon in his respective

church for as long as I can remember never told jokes. He just didn’t. He didn’t until this particular

morning. As dad was getting acquainted with my friends he decided to tell his favorite joke about

being in church. “There was this fella that was shaking hands with the pastor as he was leaving the

service one Sunday morning. Pastor when you preached on the ten commandments that was my

favorite sermon.” “How was that?” the pastor inquired. “Well sir, when you got to that part about

THOU SHALL NOT COMMIT ADULTERY, I REMEMBER WHERE I LEFT MY FAVORITE HAT!” Of course,

I was a little taken back, my buddies managed to “laff” a little and my dad was beaming as if he

had made everyone’s day. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, put another rock in yer

pocket if necessary to combat the high wind and I’ll c. y’all, all y,all!

4-13-2018

Fearing Friday The 13th  

Actually, I hardly give it a thought on this Friday the 13th as I write this column. I mean, I’m thinking about it of course, because I’m writing about it, right? I am not concerned a freaky clown will burst in from the kitchen and slit my throat or anything like that. Did you ever wonder why some folks are fearful of this particular day? According to my research only nine to ten percent of us any give it a  second thought. However, there are some hotels that do not list a number thirteenth floor as to sooth some superstitious minded individuals. By the way, the technical name for this fear is…get ready….triskaidekaphobia! I couldn’t pronounce it if that clown was standing behind me with that butcher knife demanding I do so. If you remember there were thirteen places set for the last supper and Judas was the thirteenth to arrive, git it?

In many ancient cultures the number twelve was the perfect number. Refer to twelve months in a calendar year. Twelve hands on a clock. Jesus had twelve disciples and of course there are twelve phases of Zodiac (whatever that means)?

I reckon that some of us are just a little uneasy at different times for different things. I know some fellers that play poker are a little unsettled if they draw two aces and two eights. Legend has it that was the exact hand Wild Bill Hickok was holding when he was shot and killed in Dead Wood South Dakota.

The weather girl informs me that there is a raging blizzard in progress in Eastern Colorado and into our neighbors, Nebraska. So….I suppose the folks caught up in that blizzard driving down the highway, calving out a first calf heifer or trying to get the cows fed in a sixty mile an hour wind with blowing snow gave no second thought to today being FRIDAY THE 13TH!

It is cold and windy here at the ONO and it was just a couple of days ago I hopped on the  Harley and ran into town to get the mail. Springtime in the Rockies!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and prepare for an unusual summer in politics andI’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

4-7-2018

THE PERILS OF BEING A RANCHER’S WIFE

 

So, maybe ladies some of you who have not lived on ranches often pondered what being a cowboy’s or rancher’s wife would be like. I can tell you. I can tell you of “Little Miss Martha’s” experiences on some of her “not so better days”. Some of these stories, gentle readers, I have written about before and that has been a long time ago.

There was that one day on the LX Ranch north of Amarillo that she encountered a huge rattler on the porch to the only door that led into our little camp house. She had never killed a rattler before or fired a gun before as far as I know. She grabbed up my LARGE forty five revolver, opened the screen door and began blasting away. Of course the snake retreated along with the kid’s pet goat and our dog.

Martha followed along shooting until she ran out of bullets and then threw the gun at him and then remembered what I had told her in the past. “Just grab a hoe or shovel and hit them behind the head several times.” She spotted a shovel and grabbed it and cut off his head. The only thing she hit was the kid’s tricycle blowing a huge hole in the seat! She was still shaking at nine that evening when I got home. Then there was that time on another ranch in a little better house that I rode out one morning for my usual ten mile ride checking the cows. It was maybe 20* and spitting snow. I came back about an hour later after having a terrible bout with diarrhea! Yep, had the flu, was in sad shape and needed to get out of my nasty clothes, take a bath and go to bed. “We don’t have any water,” she said when I entered the house. “The well  quit soon after you left. Go out to the bunk house and get out of those clothes and I’ll get water from the horse trough, heat it and let you clean up.”

What a revolting development that was! I was in bed in the bunk house as not to infect our little ones and stayed there for three days until I felt good enough to mount up and ride out again.       Then there was that time it rained, rained and rained and she was cooped up with the kids and  wanted to get to town and get her hair done. Before she finally got away, she stuck her truck, I stuck my truck, one tractor, the neighbor’s big tractor, and finally with the neighbor’s big truck we got her out and off to town. Wheee!!!

“I want to go with you and ride. We need more time together,” she begged. I was getting ready to take off on one of four colts I was breaking and taking another with me to ride back. “I’ll catch up ol’ J. Frank for you to ride,” I offered. “I DON’T WANT TO RIDE J. FRANK, HE’S TO UGLY!” “Well, he may be ugly, but he’s gentle and safe.” A horse woman, “Little Miss Martha” was NOT. “What do you want to ride? ” I asked. “I want to ride that horse over there”. That horse over there was new, and a little  broncy but I thought as long as she was with me, he wouldn’t give her any trouble. WRONG! Shortly after we rode off, he ran off with her, threw her and dislocated her thumb and filled her mouth with dirt and grass. She never argued with me again about horses or how much time I had to give her when I was busy, busy busy. My advice fellers is to take as much time as your darlin’ needs for you to give her! There are so many other stories I could elaborate on but just don’t have the space. There is NO BETTER LIFE than on a ranch if you are so inclined but you will find some pot holes when you least expect them. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, live today like you would want your children to live when they are your age and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

3-3-2018

WHAT IS IT ABOUT THE MOUNTAINS?

 When I was but a preteen, my folks made every effort to take my older brother and I somewhere in the mountains states. It might be Ruidoso, New Mexico, Red River, New Mexico or somewhere in Colorado. At the very first sight of the mountains off in the distance we all would start to get excited. It’s easy to get excited about mountains when you have lived in West Texas most of your life. I still rememberrolling down the window to the car when we got to where we could smell that fresh pine scent that is so ever present when you are in  the mountains. 

11-03-2017

     NORMAN ROCKWELL’S AMERICA

Gentle readers, I used to always look forward to seeing a copy of the Saturday Evening Post magazine because most likely there would be a Norman Rockwell painting on the cover. Mr. Rockwell, in my opinion, could paint a picture where the human condition was so real as were the folks in the painting you felt like were your neighbors, that you wanted to be in there with them. I don’t think there has ever been in my life time a painter that impressed me as much as Mr. Rockwell. Talk about Americana, that was a Rockwell painting. I always felt as if I could feel every emotion every person in the painting was feeling.

Franklin Graham, son of evangelist Billy Graham, recently spoke at a Baptist church in North Carolina and made the comment that Norman Rockwell’s America was gone and most likely would never ever return. I will not give the reasons for his comments as this is not the format for such political meandering. I will give you a hint by repeating one comment he made, “the Cocker spaniel is off the front porch and the pit bull is in the back yard”. Enough said I reckon.

I think that maybe Norman Rockwell’s America began to disappear with the events in Vietnam. I didn’t realize the Vietnam war actually started in 1955 however American did not get involved until later. When we got involved was about the same time that the “drug and drop out culture” began to show it’s face. That movement had an enormous effect on many of our young folks. You began to see guys wear their hair long and high heeled boots or sandals were as common as prairie dresses on young girls with flowers in their hair.” Love and peace brother” was the tone of the day for so many while young drafted men gave up their lives fighting for a cause that turned out to be not so popular. Somewhere at a truck stop in Nebraska or a diner in Fort Wayne, Indiana or Marfa, Texas there was a Rockwell scene being played out. Even today one might just grab a glance of such an event. There are times when I will see a family sitting at outside tables having ice cream or pizza on main street with there Cocker spaniel tied to the table leg while one of the kids gives him a lick of their ice cream. Yep, right here is little Wellington, Colorado that is growing so fast I fear losing the things I love the best about our little town.

Franklin says “it will take individual acts of defiance and massive displays of civil disobedience to ever bring Rockwell’s America back. I’m ready, are you? Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, stand tall for America when you are not laying in the tall grass with your powder dry and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

10-19-2017

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

Looking out the kitchen window this morning I noticed a flock of sparrows all trying to crowd into a skillet I placed by one of the water faucets in the back yard. I try to keep water out year around for whatever critters might need a drink. Of course it freezes up in the winter and I just dump the ice and refill it. It was some fun watchin’ these little birds all try to out smart the others for position either in the shallow water or on the lip of the skillet.

We are all like that aren’t we gentle readers? Family members will sometimes do the same thing if it will improve our well being. Don’t you remember as a child you would try to position yourself closer to the birthday cake in hopes you might get your piece of cake sooner?

Families, at least in my opinion, are the foundation of our society. I see more and more families fragmented these days that I care to witness. I have friends, some married, some not that have children that want nothing to do with them. I’m like, “how can that be?” As a child growing up everyone, well almost every one, had a mother and father and they all seemed to have close and loving families. Not so much anymore. I think we get to busy trying to stay on top of our game and some of the players are left on the bench when they should be on the field. Not much of a metaphor I know, but all I could come up with at the time.

Did you ever see a mother cow baby sitting a dozen or so calves so her sisters could go to water or just have a break without having to watch their babies. That always warmed my heart and made me more aware most animals have family situations just as we humans. Why else would we see dozens if not hundreds of geese flying in formation to their destinations? Same with ducks and many other species of our feathered friends. Bison, elk, deer, livestock and other of their types live and move with the family.

Cowboys are a family. You can go to any large ranch or rodeo where you find a bunch of cowpokes and you will notice how they help one another. They might not like some things about Curley or Ray, but they will pitch in and help when it’s needed. Why do we see so many gangs and “gang bangers” in the inner cities of America. They are family. That’s where they find companionship and a way to be needed and have some purpose. It’s a sorry way to present yourself to society, but it is what it is.

You can go to a county fair and watch the kids help one another even when they are competing against each other, but they are birds of a feather. Wouldn’t it be nice to live in that utopia where all was perfect and there was no animosity, no jealousy, just happy day after happy day with no issues to distract us? Now, as for me, that would be a little boring. We need competition, we need to learn how to deal with not only the joy of living but the sadness that seems to present it’self when least expected. We need to be birds of a feather and stick together for the common good of us all. We need to fly in formation towards our destination, but of course, that ain’t gonna’ happen as we are so diverse some of us will be Eagles and some will be Meadow Larks and I reckon both are necessary as to satisfy the workings of our particular place on the skillet by the water faucet. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and remember if yer a bronc rider, try and keep yer back pockets lower than yer eyebrows and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 

A REASON TO APPRECIATE MUSIC

Gentle readers, there is not a day that goes by that you don’t hear some type or several types of music. Music has always been with us. Of course I wasn’t there but I can see that old cave man beating a rib bone of some type of dinosaur against the wall of the cave or whackin’ two bones together to make music of some kind. I don’t know of any culture ever that music wasn’t a major part of their “living”. As for me, man, I gotta’ tell ya, Charlie Brown, I love all types of music. Well, maybe I was a little ambitious there, I don’t like rap music at all and I see it creeping into country music more and more.

I have always liked to sing. There has been one little problem with that. It is a fact I can carry a tune, I just can’t seem to unload it in the right way. I joined the choir in college number one because it was an easy credit, I wanted to sing better and there, were of course, some “cuties” available. Later I would find myself in the church choir because I felt obligated and I wanted to support the music ministry. I have played a guitar since I was fifteen and have a photo of me and “Little Carl (forget his last name)” performing on stage at the local high school and I was trying to sing Brown Eyed Handsome Man while Carl backed me up with his guitar. My dad used to come to the door of my brother’s and my room while Elvis, or Carl Perkins, or Buddy Holly was on the radio and he would get the biggest grin on his face. I can see him now, my handsome daddy with his head tilted to one side and his eyes almost closed doing a little flat footed dance step. Mom could play the piano a little bit but we didn’t have one. If we had had one I would almost bet you that I would be a piano player as well.

I like to get on you tube and watch videos of good guitar players and learn more and more from that experience.

Just yesterday I was watching “fiddle lessons for beginners,” the fiddle being my favorite instrument, but I have never played one but am considering putting that on my bucket list. I was playing a little backup music on my guitar when all of a sudden a spider appeared right in front of me. He had dropped down from the ceiling and he ask me if I could play “Wild Wood Flower” for him. I told him I would, I laid my guitar down and began to clap for the spider.

Unfortunately he got caught in between my claps and got smashed. Go figure!

Music is universal in every country in every culture and I believe music is what makes the world go round. I love Irish folk music, even jingles you hear on the “telly” advertising some product or service will make me start humming or whistling that tune at a later time. That’s the whole point. Music is used to “jump start” you into doing something or buying something that maybe you hadn’t thought of buying or doing.

I really never liked having to go to musicals in the movies but I always enjoyed the music. It can be jazz, rock, country and western, folk, or whatever and I’ll like all of it or parts of it, but not rap, to me that’s crap!

I like to watch the young folks on dance night and concentrate on the ones that have music in their bones. It’s usually the girls and that works for me! Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and remember PETA, the old steer said he would rather be ropin’ than be in a can of chili! I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 

OLD DOGS AND OLD FOLKS

Back in the eighties, nineteen eighties that is, we had an old dog of undetermined origin wander onto our ranch headquarters. He looked to be a cross of some sort of spaniel and setter. He was honey colored with a white muzzle and big brown sad, drooping eyes. We, of course fed him and made him a place of comfort in the barn. While trying to come up with a name for our new companion, one of the boys said, “let’s call him Moses”. Ah haaaa , the perfect name, Moses. Moses seemed to enjoy all of the attention he was getting and we wondered where in the world he came from. We decided that someone must have just dropped him off out in the country because maybe they just couldn’t deal with him being in the last stages of his life. He didn’t live long after that, maybe two to three weeks the way I remember it. We gave him a nice funeral and buried him in the horse pasture as he was always around the horses and they just sort of took him in.

I know when I was younger I would let some old folks get under my skin. “What’s the matter with that old geezer,?”

I would ask myself. “Am I gonna’ be like that when I get old? I don’t think so,” was how I would settle the question.

“Nope, not me, I ain’t gonna be short tempered, grumpy and bossy like I just don’t give a darn.” Now that the time in question is upon me I have to sit back and take inventory. I might be a little short tempered, but not grumpy or bossy, or at least I don’t think I am. I will admit to misplacing my “give a hoot” from time to time but that just happens to be a fact of life when you get older. I do love life and being around folks that I enjoy. As I’ve said before my ponies and I, old Howdy and Nugget are pretty good buds. I need to get out there and get both of them rode before we get too far into winter. I have been pretty darn  busy here at the ONO this summer and fall and then again I will admit to misplacing my “give a hoot” on occasion.

Getting old is an honor and a blessing if we take in the situation in Vegas recently. So many young folks slaughtered and wounded physically and mentally for many, many years to come. Those that were killed will never get to be old folks like me. Their mom’s and dad’s while growing older will most likely live a life of heartbreak, sadness and always trying to fill that terrible void. I think of “Little Miss Martha” and how she told me once years ago that she thought living to the age of seventy seven would be enough time on this earth for her. She missed it by nineteen years.

It’s hard to imagine at times when I look around at the way the world of ours is shaping up that I would want to be a part of it in another twenty to thirty years. I have to remember that the younger folks don’t really have any comparison to different times so it’s just “normal” living to them. Here’s one thing I would hope would not happen: I would hope nobody drops me off in the country to find a new home when that time comes. Then again, it might not be that bad and after all, I would be in the country…right? Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, remember we weren’t put here just to take up space, so do SOMETHING, SOMETHING GOOD, and I’ll c. ya’all, all y’all.

10-8-2017

What’s The Good News?

What’s the good news, you ask? The good news here at the ONO Ranch, gentle readers is that I have had an abundance of rain. It took a while to get here but when it arrived it was a God sent. I have a couple of projects in the near future that I am excited about and again I want to give y’all a big THANK YOU  for the calendars you purchased. They are in short supply at present but I will accommodate you until l run out.

There are some of you out there that will be harvesting your crops and a payday is in your future. There are calf crops to sell and the price for calves just off their momma  is still pretty darn good. Most of you got out of bed this morning with a few aches and pains if you are over fifty, but blessed to be able to do so. Life for darn sure is worth more than just going through the motions.

One of our local television stations out of Denver did a recent survey to see how they could improve their viewership. “What would you like for us to do or change that would make us better”? they ask. Over ninety percent of the folks that bothered to answer said, “GIVE US SOME

GOOD NEWS instead of a steady diet of bad news. They listened and low and behold I began to hear less and less of what a disgusting President we had. I began to hear more stories about how folks were just helping other folks regardless of age, income or their particular position in life. It sure made me feel better.

Two mornings ago a young man ran out into traffic on the interstate at five in the morning here at Wellington to commit suicide. Word is he was first hit by a car and then managed to find his way into the path of a semi. On a cold and rainy morning that guy was in a situation that made him want to end it all. Was it drugs, mental illness or just overbearing depression or all of the above?

I think that it is time for more good news and the type of news that warms the heart of all of us and aren’t you just put out with all of the negativity every hour of every day?

I was waiting in line in our little post office this morning when a young woman came in with a six month old little boy in his “basket”.

She set him on the floor behind me and we made eye contact right away. That little “toot” shot me the biggest grin I have seen in a long while and man I melted. I made faces at him and he would look at me like, “so, what’s your problem”? then he would give me another grin. I just wanted to pick him up and love on him ’cause it’s been a long time since I have held a small child in my arms to love on.

There is a lot of good news out there if we look for it. It could be down in the corral, in the grocery store, in your church pew or right there in your home with those you love. I know it’s difficult to not want to jump into all of the bull crap that we come into contact with almost all day every day. I held the door open for a sophisticated lookin’ feller the other day at the post office and he was surprised that I had done that but was very complimentary. I noticed when I backed my truck out of the parking lot he had a “feel the burn”, Bernie Sanders bumper sticker on his big suv! Just for a moment I was mad at myself for being such a gentleman but that quickly passed and I realized he was just like me but came from a different place with different views and I could probably have a cup of coffee with him and get along okay. I said A CUP OF COFFEE! Enough said I reckon. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, and realize that old age comes at a really bad time and if God wanted me to touch my toes, He would have put them on my knees. I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

INSPIRED BY THAT PINK BUNNY

 

I always seem to get up tired. I can faintly remember times in the past, way back, in fact when I could rise and feel rested and ready to go. Nope, not any more. Not at seventy seven years of age and I would bet ya that most folks my age or even close to it don’t feel all that rested when they get up in the morning. I couldn’t sleep late if I wanted. Even on dance night when I might get to bed between eleven thirty and twelve or even later, I always am awake around six or so and up shortly after that. Too many mornings on the ranch I reckon. You know, chores to be done. However, I woke up the other morning and after making my bed, feeding my ponies, having a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast, I put on a load of laundry and went out to water my trees (20) and flowers. Shazammm!! All of a sudden I got this incredible burst of energy. It made me think of that cute little pink rabbit with the sun glasses on who is always beating on a drum. He never ever slows down or quits. Nope he just keeps steppin’ out with that cute little tale bouncin’ along behind him while he beats that drum. As I watered more and more trees I decided maybe it was time to get under the house in the crawl space as I do this time every year and check for water leaks. Oh yeah, while I’m under there I can put out some of those insecticide bombs to kill all the spiders and whatever else is living down there. The crawl space is thirty six inches in higth in some places and lower in others and the house is seventy feet long. It’s a manufactured home and the crawl space is a little under nineteen hundred square feet. Soooo, I turn off the water, change into some old clothes, get my flashlight, put on my knee pads, mask, and safety glasses, bombs and head under the house after I plug in the lights rigged up under neath the house to help with the lighting. I crawl like a crab to the far end, set off one bomb, hustle (as fast as a 77 year old crab) can hustle to the center of the house and set off another bomb all the while checking for water leaks. No leaks, thank goodness. I crawled back to the opening where I went under and set off the last canister and got out from under the house as fast as a seventy seven year old cowboy (crab) can. Gentle readers, I gotta’ tell ya, I’m pert near proud of me by the time I got back to fresh air and closed up the hatch to keep the poison down where it belongs. I’m outta’ breath by now so I get another cup of coffee, settle down on the back deck to regroup. Now it’s back to watering the trees and flowers. I so proud of me, it’s almost disgusting. As I am watering this one tree I notice what appears to be the ear piece off of a pair of glasses. I reach down and pick it up.

We don’t need any trash laying around now do we? WHAT’S THIS? Low and behold it turns out to be a pair of eyeglasses that I lost over three years ago. I gave almost four hundred dollars for that eye exam, glasses and sun glasses. I assumed that I had misplaced them or left them somewhere and couldn’t remember where. Man, I was proud of me by now as they didn’t seem to have suffered any real damage and I am wearing them as I write now. That pink bunny really got me going and going and going and look at all that I accomplished.

I don’t know how many more years I will find the energy or courage to go under the house to just take a look, make any repairs or put out insecticide but I did so just the other day. by the way, that spider spray sure “nuff” does the job. There were no webs under the house but one small one as I put out canisters this time last year and my house was full of webs underneath.

After finding my eye glasses I remembered those nice prescription glasses I bought at the same time. Where are they? I don’t remember where I put them or what I did with them. I spent an hour just looking for them. Maybe I’ll have to start looking under the trees hummmm?

Speaking of prescriptions. Did you hear about the lady that ask the druggist for some poison? “What are you going to do with it?” he asked.

“I’m going to kill my husband,” she replied. “Well, I can’t let you have it if that’s what you plan to do with it.” She reaches in her purse, pulls out a photo of her husband in bed with the druggist wife and hands it to him. “Oh, he replies, I didn’t know you had a prescription”!!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, expect the unexpected and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

MY FRIEND HOWDY

I think most of you who read this column once in a while or all the time already know who Howdy is. By the way, a big thanks for taking your time to indulge me. I digress. Howdy is one of my horses. I have two. I bought Howdy some fourteen years ago and we have been “buds” ever since. The other horse I have is Nugget and Nugget is not as old as  Howdy, a lot bigger and not as user friendly as Howdy is when it comes to being caught or just being handled. Nugget is however, really good when you work on his feet and when you are mounting.

It was time to take Howdy to the dentist this morning. He had reached the point where it was really difficult for him to keep his oats or sweet feed in his mouth as his teeth needed to be floated. Howdy had not been in the trailer in years but he stepped right in and off we went. When we got to the vet. clinic and got unloaded he did seem a little unsettled. He didn’t act up but he did compose himself much in the same way I do when I go to the dentist. My eyes get big and a certain amount of uncertainty creeps in at all the sights and sounds. In his case there were a lot

of barking dogs and unfamiliar surroundings. The vet. gave him a shot to relax him and then his assistant put Howdy in the “horse stock”. That being a chute of sorts made of sturdy pipe with a concrete floor with rubber mat of course. I stood where Howdy had a good view of me. I wanted him to know that ol’ Dad was right there with him all the way. He did really well under the circumstances and even though he was a little “drunk” from the “stabilizer” shot he received, he was ready to stagger back into the trailer. By the way, if you have never seen a horse get their teeth floated it can be a pretty noisy and an almost barbaric procedure to watch. It doesn’t hurt and doesn’t take very long and they are so much better health wise when it’s over.

Howdy, as gentle as he is, will not let a “dude” or “dudette” ride him unless ol’ Dad and Nugget are going along for the ride. He always knows how much experience a person has the minute they get on him. He may go for a while with me and Nugget along and then he will just decide to test his rider and slowly turn back toward the barn. If they don’t correct him right away and let him know that they are going to be the “boss” for this ride, he will continue to test them. It’s seems to be fun for him. I can put as many little kids on his back that will fit and if I or someone else leads him around he is as happy as he can be. He likes to be around people and will let anyone approach him out in the pasture and pet him. No way Hosea for Nugget. That ain’t gonna’ happen unless it’s a girl or woman. He’ll let a woman come up to him anytime but never a man.

When I got back from the vet. with Howdy and got him back in the corral, Nugget sniffed him all over much like a dog would. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN MAN? WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU?”  I had to “laff” just a little. Horses are so much like humans if you really watch and learn from their behavior. I just don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have my “boys” to lean on and to talk to every morning. When I reach the corral I’m already having a conversation with them and their distinctive “replies”” make my heart glad. It’s that “cowboy thing” I reckon Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, love on yer spouse, and kids, and pets and especially those horses that are special to you.

I’ll c. Y’all, all y’all.

COLONEL

I’m not sure if we named him or if Colonel was his name when we brought him home. To me, he was just what it was going to take to make a cowboy out of me at eleven years of age. Yep, mom picked him out because she was ranch raised and knew good “hoss flesh” when she saw it. It didn’t matter that when we were giving him a pre ride down the farmer’s driveway, he ran off with my brother. “Aw, he’s just a little fresh, he ain’t been rode in a while,” SAID THE FARMER. Mom figured we at ages eleven and twelve should be able to handle this skinny, raw boned, big footed, pig eyed black and white paint without losing life or limb. Well, there was that one limb the tree lost when Colonel ran under it with my brother on board and took him out of the saddle knocked out!! To me, he was just as pretty, well almost, as Trigger and dang sure as fast. That old skinny bronc could punch a hole in the wind and I loved it when he ran away out in the pasture. I would just hunker down over his neck, do my best to avoid the Mesquite trees rushing by and pretend Indians were after me. When he got the run out of him he wasn’t that bad to control. Now there were those times, gentle readers, that he would try and take your leg off on the cross tie that held the corral gate when he ran in. He always ran in.

Someone had taught him to rear up just like Trigger, but not high enough to fall over or did he ever try. One of my cousins came to visit and wanted to show off a little. After Colonel was unsaddled, they boy’s dad told him to jump back on him and make him rear for the camera.

Colonel was not big at all. Maybe fourteen two and eight hundred and fifty pounds, but for a kid eleven years of age, he was a big horse and being a runaway bronc with an iron jaw and unpredictable disposition, he was as big as I needed at the time. My cuz made ol’ Colonel rear up but when he did, the boy slid down his back, kept a tight hold on the reins and pulled the horse over backwards. Thank God Colonel didn’t land on him. It sure made some good watchin’!

My bro had decided by now havin’ a horse to ride was not in his best interest and he just didn’t ride much any more. I had that ol’ skinny bronc all to myself and I rode him everywhere. I would ride a couple miles up the road and visit one of my classmates. Other than that I did a lot of prowlin’ on the Mallett Ranch where our oil field camp was situated. I would ride to the windmills, sometimes tie Colonel up and climb the windmill or take a swim in that less than clean over flow pond where the cattle drank.

I had a bro in law who was a real horses’ rear. He was not only the best looking man in America, but also the toughest and smartest. Man, how can you compete with that? My sis couldn’t so she divorced him. I digress. One Sunday Capt. American decided he would break ol’ Colonel from running off and especially from running back in the corral. We all gathered for the show as he mounted the kid’s saddle. His knees were almost under his chin or so it seems. He took off in a cloud of dust and hadn’t gotten too far when Colonel made a quick reverse and headed to the corral with Capt. America hangin’ off to the side. Running wide open, Colonel approached the gate to the corral then he slammed on the brakes and Capt. America took flight as the Colonel made a hard right turn into the corral. Capt. America was not only embarrassed, he was skinned up a little and his always immaculate clothes somewhat stained with dirt and grass. He never again offered to solve any more of our problems with good ol’ Colonel. I reckon all’s well that ends well. My sister dumped the Capt., I outgrew ol’ Colonel and sold him to a man in his forties as a good broke hoss. Shame on me. He did ride him and decided he would be okay. I guess I rode the “ruff” off of him. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion. Always remember Sept. 11 and how it shook us awake like nothing had done before. The idea of a “red neck remount and reload reactors” keeps coming to my mind….hummmm. This  bunch of black hooded bullies with clubs is disturbin’ my rest. Lay in the tall grass and keep a sharp eye and I’ll c. y’all,

THERE’S ALWAYS A BETTER WAY

 

8-21-2017

UPDATES

Gentle readers, if you are anything like me, you don’t always want your computer UPDATED! I just received a notice that a certain part of my email was going to be updated. Did I want to go ahead or wait a while? I chose to wait a while, a long while if possible. Seems like every time they update some part or a whole part of one of my programs that I can get lost real quick. I get used to doing certain things a certain way that I am familiar with and all of a sudden my familiar parts just ain’t there any more. Frustrating to say the least.

Do you get those calls from Charles over in the far east somewhere and he wants to FIX WINDOWS for you? Here’s the deal. Maybe it’s just old guys like myself that they pick on. They figure we can’t remember what we had for breakfast so we are a perfect mark. Do you remember what you had for breakfast? I can’t always tell ya what I had for lunch if I just put away the lunch meat and mayo. I don’t let Charles know that. No sir, not for a minute. I usually just reply, “THERE AIN’T NOTHING WRONG WITH MY COMPUTER SO YOU CAN’T HELP ME! HAVE A NICE DAY”. See, I’m always polite. I must be as Charles always remembers to call every now and then. How about those updates that all of our newer vehicles are getting? Wow! Is that why there is a new recall almost every month for this pickup or this car. Ya know, if someone was to call and say, “Jack, we can update yer face and yer wallet in short order and it’s free. Would you like to update now or wait awhile?” I would go for the NOW part of that.

I remember that movie where Dustin Hoffman (the Graduate) was being advised by his soon to be father in law to invest in plastics. That was a long, long time ago and I remember thinking that “man, if I had any money at all, I would put it in plastic futures”! My new tractor is made out of plastic. So is your pickup and your car. I had at one time a 1956 Buick Roadmaster. Man, what a tank. Of course gasoline was only around .34 a gallon but every thing is relevant right? That car in prime condition today would cost you a fortune. They were stylish, dependable, comfortable cars with lots of leg room front and back. Today if you want to put someone in the back seat of your car they had not better be over four feet three inches or their knees will be up under their chin. That was a real super update some engineer came up with right? Of course how can we not be pleased to have our smart phones and i pads that most of YOU depend on? Aspirin sales are on the rise I hear as more folks complain of headaches and stiff necks and warts on their thumbs. I know, I know I am being a little cynical here but I ain’t kiddin’, I think we are headed for a place in the future that we are just not that comfortable with. Like, it’s needing that ol’ Buick Roadmaster back in the garage. I reckon it’s all what ya get used to. The way a man (woman) thinks so will they travel. That’s in the Bible or maybe the old Chinese wise man, Confuse-us, laid that on us. I just don’t remember. If you will remember, I can’t remember what I had for lunch as I’m putting away the lunch meat and mayo. By the way, how about those Chinese that we have been so willing to give all our money to and buy all their crap for all these years? Just sayin… I, for one am ready for an UPDATE on America and how it’s place in the world needs to have more respect and not be giving it’s blood and treasure for every cause that we receive NOTHING in return for. I am going to try and update myself on a lot of things I need to be aware of and contribute to before too much more of my time runs out. You guys have always helped me with your encouraging words and kind comments and I salute you! Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and don’t give in to every update that comes your way and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

8-5-2017

                    THAT DOWN HOME EASY FEELING

 

Gentle readers, how would you describe that “down home easy feeling”? I reckon that some of us might describe it somewhat different than others but it most likely has something to do with how we have lived our lives. A person that lives close to the ocean might refer to sitting on the beach when the sun is almost down and listen to the waves lap at the shore. If you live in the mountains you might give credit to a full moon above the trees and just a whisper of breeze drifting through the pines. To a cowboy it’s the finish to a really hard day, buta satisfying feeling that all was accomplished and part of it done on the back of a really good and willing horse. I think most of us could just go back in our childhood and think of moments when we really weren’t aware of what life was really going to be like for us.

We had no idea the challenges, hardships, joy and heartache that lay spread out before us in the years of adulthood to come. I have a photo of my older brother and I sitting on the dresser in my bedroom. It was taken when we were ten and nine years of age or very close to that. We had such a peaceful, satisfied glint of joy and hope in our eyes and our big smiles reflected so. Had we known what all we would encounter in our lives over the next sixty or so years, you might have seen a different expression on our youthful faces. Life has been good to us and we have been blessed but we both have had difficult, trying and very sad times in our lives. I also have a photo of “Little Miss Martha” and I sitting on a split rail fence at cow camp high up in the Rockies above Ridgway, Colorado with that “down home easy feeling” expressed on our faces even though we were new to such an environment as that. I would bet ya that you could get that feeling just having your kids or maybe your dog just crawl up in your lap for comfort and love?

I have to touch on our world today. This world of fast, faster and fastest. A world of a bountiful, exciting, sometimes concerning new technologies that could either make us more comfortable or destroy us altogether at some time in the future. There is just so much of it I don’t understand. What I do understand is that when we don’t take the time to look one another in the eye and connect as one human being to another and prefer to look into the magic box and use our thumbs to create words we should be speaking, we are cheating not only ourselves but those we care about. You see that type of behavior constantly everywhere you go. There are ways to find “that down home peaceful feeling”. It might require us to give ourselves the opportunity to really relax and reflect on who we are, where we have been and where we expect to be. Somewhere in there I know that “feeling” will be present.

The mornings are cool and I know fall is just around the corner here in the Rocky Mountain west and I will be ready for that first snowfall when it comes. The bikers are all headed to Sturgis. There is still hay to be put away and a new season will begin. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and remember to be nice to your enemies, it drives them crazy. Also remember a friend is someone who could tell you all of his troubles, but he doesn’t. I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 IT’S BEST TO “LAFF”

Gentle readers, we all know it’s always best if you can find humor in situations that are sometimes awkward.

Let me give you a couple of recent examples. Here I am sitting in the waiting room (large) at the eye clinic. There was at best six to seven other folks scattered around. I noticed a feller some distance away kept looking in my direction as if he knew me. A few minutes later, I think it must have been his mother, a little whisper of a woman all bent over her walker appeared out of the back and she was wearing those dark wrap around glasses. They began talking and looking again in my direction and sure enough, you guessed it, here they come. I kept reading a magazine as if I wasn’t aware of what they were doing. I ain’t makin’ this up. This little old lady stopped her walker about a foot from my knee and leaned in to within six inches of my face and quipped, “nope, it ain’t him’! The feller said, “I told ya I didn’t think it was him.” He gave me an apologetic look and said, “sorry”. I smiled and replied, “that’s okay folks, I am always being mistaken for Brad Pitt.” She said as she turned away, “nope, you ain’t him either.” I had to chuckle a bit. Soooo, I see a nurse and she does some computer stuff and checks on my vision and places me in a small waiting room until the doc is ready. There is this couple about my age sitting there. I was wearing a nice Harley Davidson short sleeve shirt and above one pocket was the HARLEY DAVIDSON name. This feller looks up at me and says, “WELL, HELLO MR. HARLEY DAVIDSON”.  I gave him a glance and softly said, “good morning.” “WHERE DO YOU LIVE”? I am getting a little irritated by his brashness by now. I told him where I lived and picked up a magazine.

“WHO IS YOUR DOCTOR”? he asked. “Dr. Cheney,” I replied. “DID YOU SEE HER REACTION WHEN HER DAD LAUNCHED THAT NEW SHIP”? he asked. Confused I just looked at him as if he just had a couple of screws fall out of his head.

His wife said, “He’s talking about Dick Chenney.” “Oh, I don’t think this lady is kin to Mr. Chenney,” and that was the end of the conversation as a nurse appeared to take him to see his doc. That’s almost too funny in my books.

Of course I am a cartoonist and I may observe situations like that differently than you would.

I heard a lady comic say, “these kids today need to get their heads out of their apps and look around every now and then. How clever is that? Here’s a couple of cute bumper stickers: HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUITE! Pardon my driving I am loading my pistol! You can’t have everything..where would you put it? And the last: a flashlight is a container to hold dead batteries!

I would like to give a shout out to a couple of Fence Post advertisers. I just bought a tractor from Legacy Tractors in Fort Collins and what nice folks they are. Also, I have agreed to having a large building built from Vap Construction  from Atwood, Kansas. They have super good pricing on their buildings. While I’m at it, I’ll toss in a plug for Mad Jack’s “Hoots” cowboy cartoon calendars for 2018. They are here and ready to ship.

Send a check or money order to Jack Hanks, P.o. Box 825, Wellington, Co. 80549. $10.00 for a signed, postage paid to your mailbox and $9.00 for additional calendars. Thanks to you who have already purchased yours.

Stay tuned, pull your head out of your app once in a while and look around and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

7-20-2017

WHEN IT ALL COMES TOGETHER

Don’t it feel good, gentle readers, when it all comes together for you and you just couldn’t see it happening? Well, it was sorta’ like that for me this past week. It hasn’t quite all come together as of yet because I’m still waiting for that good summer rain and thunderstorm. However, here are a couple of things that did come together. My ol’ Allis Chalmers tractor just sort of quit me while mowing weeds down in the pasture. Yep, she just sort of decided it was just too hot.

No doubt about it, it has been hot and still is at this writing. I determined that it had to be the battery as it didn’t seem to want to take a charge. Sooooo, I get the new battery, install it and nada, nothing, zero. Being quite out of sorts at this point as it’s hotter than hades, the weeds are gettin’ taller and I’m gettin’ older, I called my friend, “Animal”. He is a darn good shade tree mechanic so he stops by the next afternoon. He’s havin’ a problem because he can’t figure out why the old girl just won’t make a sound. Suddenly he starts “laffin” and says to me, “Jack, go get me a half inch wrench.” “Why, what’s wrong, I know that I installed that battery the correct way?” “Just go get me the wrench,” he demanded. When I came back he showed me when I installed the battery I neglected to remove the rubber cover off the negative post on the battery. “Wow, man I can’t believe that I did that,” I offered. I could believe that I did that as I seem to either be unfocused or “old timers” is trying to set in as I have made a few errors in the past weeks. Scary!

I was sitting on the back deck wondering why the Hummingbirds did not show this year.  I had the feeder out for a couple of weeks and no birds. Wouldn’t ya know it? Right at that moment one Hummingbird flew in and took a drink and I thought, “son of a gun,”they are going to come this year.” Yep, it’s coming together.

My dentist has been having some trouble making a “bridge” fit properly that I just paid two grand for. I’ve been a little cranky as it was making a sore spot on my gum and I wasn’t able to eat with it in. Finally, finally he made the right adjustments to where I believe that it’s going to be okay. Yep, it seems to just be coming together when I wasn’t sure that it would.

By the way, the Allis Chalmers is going to be for sale as I have decided to try and find a tractor I can afford that has a cab on it for this next winter. Old “Alice” is a good tractor. It’s a D17 (54HP) with a farmhand loader and everything works except the lights. If you have a tractor for sale (35-70 hp) with a cab and loader let me know.

If I could get that good rain we have been promised this weekend, and I can get old “Alice sold and find a good replacement, IT WILL HAVE ALL COME TOGETHER!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, send me a rain and a tractor, may God bless this wonderful country we live in and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

7-16-2017

SUMMERTIME BLUES

I can distinctly remember just what was a few months ago that I was whining about the cold miserable weather. Man how I wished we could just have some of those good ol’ hot summer days. Well, gentle readers, ya know where this is going.

Here I am whining and I am so ashamed of myself. Really I am. Now, if we had seen any measurable rain in the past few  weeks I wouldn’t mind the hot days so much. No rain, dry grass, lots of weeds makes Jack a dull boy. Not only dull, but  much the whiner. Of course it doesn’t do any good to whine as one old Texas cowman said, “I’ll rain when the droughts over.” I ain’t havin’ a drought but without some rain soon it will appear as if we’re havin’ one.

Now Cheyenne Frontier Days is just around the corner. In fact by the time you get this it will have already started and it almost ALWAYS RAINS ON THE ONO when Frontier Days is in full swing. I have that to look forward to.

Today is a Sunday and I don’t attend church any more. I do like to take time to catch a couple of services on the “telly” that I enjoy watching. There have been times I have watched as many as five and that’s a lot of T.V. church going. Mostly that happens in the winter when I am not motivated to do much outside but take care of the ponies, split and haul firewood and do the household chores. I had a good bit of work lined up for me this morning when I got up so I got busy doing those things I needed to do. I had to deliver some calendars to a lady, buy some groceries, pull the battery out of my tractor in order to replace it tomorrow with a new one. I needed to write this column as I have a pretty full day tomorrow. Yep, back to the dentist, check on some business down in “the old country” (Texas). It’s almost a full day just to keep the water tubs filled for the heifers and my horses. Man, they are drinking a lot of water. I always have to fill the tubs twice and sometimes three times. Early in the summer when we had some RAIN, the creek took on lots of water and I didn’t see the cattle up here at the house other than maybe to hit the salt lick once in awhile.

Actually, I don’t have the blues at all, I just needed a snappy title for this column. I have had a busy summer grubbin’ cactus, keeping fences repaired, keeping my yard, house and buildings organized and finding time to ride a little on the Harley and horses as well.

I got a nice surprise today as I was pulling the battery out of my old tractor I noticed a feller mowing the ditch not only out in front of my neighbor’s but my place as well. New feller moved in down the road and set about makin’ friends.

I gave him a big wave and a big THANK YOU for his efforts. Now that’s the kind of stuff that makes you appreciate kindness at it’s fullest. I am always encouraged to want to “pay it forward” myself when someone does something nice for me that wasn’t ask for. Hey, we are all in this together. We are. It doesn’t matter what you look like, how much you have or don’t have or what your political leanings are, we are all wanting the same things out of life. I know it’s hard to want to get along with some who are so diabolically opposed to so many things we hold up high, but there may come that time when that person needs you or visa versa. I sure hope you are having an agreeable summer. I know some of you are on hard times or have difficult situations you are dealing with. Hard times don’t last forever!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion. Find a reason to “laff” and to do a little more compromising if necessary and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all. Just a reminder my calendars for 2018 are here.

7-10-2017

BUDDY, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?

 

It was early June and it was a hot, hot morning when we had the cows and calves and bulls penned. The calves had been sorted off, the branding fire was roarin’ and the dirt was fixin’ to fly. This was on the Coldwater Cattle Companies ranch up in the Texas panhandle. I was working for the LX and the two ranches had family relations so our crew from the LX went to “neighbor” and help with the gather and branding. Both ranches were pretty large at one hundred and fifty sections apiece as I remember. This was a new gig for me and my first branding as a “green broke” cowboy trying to learn all I could and make a hand. Mostly not to create any issues for anyone and to do what was ask of me in a positive way. My job this morning was to wrestle calves to be branded. I didn’t know a soul from the Coldwaters outfit but was about to get familiar with some of them. It was obvious to all that I was green but willing. I struggled a bit with the first calf that came my way but managed to hold my own and do a respectable job. I had the rear end of the calves and that’s in my opinion, the tougher end to either get kicked or crapped on or both. The sweat was running out from under our hat brims and our faces covered with grim when one of the Coldwater boys ask, “where did you come from?” Meaning, what have you been doing or where have you been working? I explained to him and others close by as we were waiting  for another calf that I had had a job with Proctor and Gamble as a sales rep but decided to quit and start “cowboyin”.

“Did ya make purty good money?” one feller ask. I told what my salary was and that I had a company car, expense account, paid vacation, and the weekends off. “WHAT? HAVE YOU LOST YER MIND BUDDY? You gave that up to come out here and work yer butt off twelve or fifteen hours a day punchin’ cows? Why did you want to do that?” another ask.

I wanted to be doing just what you guys are doing. The job I had was not a man’s job (that’s what I thought of it at the time) and I just wanted to be a’horseback workin’ cows and whatever else. Gentle readers, those guys looked at each other as if they had just met the village idiot. That was the end of our conversation for the most part the rest of the morning. I really did feel like an outsider right then realizing that there probably wasn’t a man there that would have been hired by P&G because their texture would have been a little bit rough for a suit and tie. Of course, I had just made my point to myself as to why I was there. I wanted to be just like them for starters and hopefully move up into being a cow boss or even a manager. And i did in a much shorter period of time than I was expecting. Within a year of that day I was managing the large Texas ranch east of Dallas. I believe two of the main reasons I was hired were that I had a stable, very acceptable family life and I had WORKED FOR PROCTOR AND GAMBLE!

As I have mentioned in the past, my dad had a coniption fit when I told him I was leaving P&G to cowboy. He must have thought that he had raised the village idiot. Hey, it all worked out and life as a cowboy, cowman and whatever else brought more satisfaction not only to me but to my wife and kids as well as we got to get together many times working cattle and havin’ fun in the process. I wouldn’t trade a day of it. Well, maybe that day my hoss fell on me and broke my leg or maybe the day that ol’ pony almost drowned me, but that’s in the past, right? I sure hope your position in life offers you the opportunity to do what you really want to do and to be the person you always aspired to become.

If not and the opportunity presents it’self, I say “GO FOR IT!”

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, take time to appreciate every day ’cause one day you will be an old geezer or geezerette like me so stop and get a whiff of the saddle room and the breath of a new calf, and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

Don’t forget about the calendars.

7-1-2017

ENDANGERED SPECIES

Are there still remaining endangered species, yo might ask? So glad ya did ’cause I can think of a few off of the top

of my head. Hummmm, let’s see, well, there are those conservative folks that at times would like to voice their opinion

on certain political issues at some liberal arts colleges. In many cases they are not allowed or shouted down as their

speech is call “hate speech”. Then we have a few politicians that want to “cut the crap” and get down to business

and make our country great again but they are usually pushed aside by the alligators in the swamp. Did you know that

Washington D. C. was actually built on a swamp? Check it out. We may all be endangered one of these days when the

robots take over every aspect of our lives. No kiddin’! Gentle readers, many years ago when the Spotted Owl was

the headline in the news I threw together a little poem I called “endangered species”. I’m sure I have published it here

before in the Fence Post but would like to do it again with your permission. Here goes….

To the judges question, the cowboy replied,

“yer honor, if I hadn’t et that old spotted owl,

I surely would have died!”

Ya see, my ol’ pony got spooked and acted the fool,

he proceeded to buck me off and then runs off with my mule.

For three days I wandered in the woods deep and dark.

the first day I ate grass, the second ants and the third tree bark.

I looked up to pray as my stomach did growl,

then I seen it, that ol’ Spotted Owl.

God does answer prayers as I snatched that ol’ bird real quick.

I et every thing but the feathers then my fingers did I lick!

I was purt near proud of this thing I had done

until up stepped a warden with his big ol’ gun.

“Ah ha, I see you’ve et an endangered species,

I can tell from yer mess.

That ought to be worth ’bout twenty years in the big house,

would be my guess.”

“so yer honor, have mercy on a poor ol’ cowboy’s hide,

if I hadn’t et that ol’ bird I’da surely died!”

The judge wiped a tear from the side of his face,

“Yer free to go cowboy, I’m dismissing yer case!”

The cowboy reached for his hat to leave in great haste

when the judge suddenly ask, “how does a Spotted Owl taste?”

“Well, yer honor, they is just sorta’ plain,

they ain’t quit as good as a bald eagle but they ‘re a little

better than a whoopin’ crane!!!”

Oh I can hear the grinding of teeth through clinched jaws from the P.E.T.A. folks, but hey, it’s funny right?

Relax, live a little, have some frog legs and possum stew, it’s really good if you have a go at it!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, “laff” at every opportunity you’ll live longer. I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

As a side bar the 2018 “Hoot” calendars have arrived early. $10.00 for the first one, every one after that is

$9.00. That’s signed, postage paid and send check or money order, sorry no plastic, to Jack Hanks, P.O box

825 Wellington, Co. 80549. You can also email me onoranch@msn.com or call 970-568-3974. THANKS!!

 

WHEN MONDAY CAME ON A SUNDAY

 

Gentle readers we often refer to Monday as being that one day when something goes wrong or things just don’t work out as we had anticipated. It was on a Monday that ol’ Jiggs, my fourteen hundred pound ranch horse was jerked off his feet by a four hundred and something pound steer in the mud and landed on my right leg. The result of that I still feel every day since and will until I die I reckon. However, a Monday may come on a Wednesday or Friday or any day of the week simply because we just blame Mondays for being that one time when Murphy’s Law prevails, or so it seems. I was drifting through the channels last night and came across this televised preacher in the process of having a “healing service”. I have to tell ya he was about as good as I’ve ever seen when it comes to working and controlling the crowd. He appeared to be akin to Porter Wagoner in his appearance with his lavish coat and hair like the “Donald”. I watched simply because it was very entertaining and I was taken with the skills and total control this man had over his audience. Let me be clear. I do believe in divine intervention or miracles in the healing process.

I am not too fond of folks that strut like a barnyard rooster and are so into themselves it takes away from what should be a special occasion for someone who really is in need of a miracles. Well, this ol’ boy had his Monday come running up to him and caught him by surprise. It was a slightly overweight woman who’s personal appearance would lead you to believe she was a poor woman but one who was a strong believer. “And why are you here and what do you need?” the rooster crowed. With a broad grin she showed maybe three teeth in her entire mouth and testified that she wanted HER TEETH BACK!! The rooster came up blank. He looked confused as if he were saying to himself, “Houston, we have a problem here!” He did an about face and started singing (and not very well) some praise song that almost every one knew and then immediately focused his attention on someone else. It happens and I was so glad it happened to him on national television. I reckon that we have all had our Mondays when we least expected them.

You know the good thing about us? We live in America and it’s the fourth of July holiday. We live in a country where you can make a fool of yourself if you so desire and they won’t put you in prison. We can say anything that we desire any time we desire within reason. We can choose to believe or not believe in God. We can have any job we desire if we qualify and make as much or as little money as we feel we need. We can own property and if we follow the rules, take care of our obligations, and obey our laws, our prospects are without limit. I always wanted to be a cowboy. I always wanted to be able to create cartoons and have some success with it. I always wanted that good woman and those wonderful kids and grand kids. It all came true. Why? It came true because that’s where

I set my goals and it seemed as if the harder I worked, the luckier I got! Right? You betcha’ Charlie Brown.

Please be mindful this fourth of July how lucky we are to be Americans and have all that we have or all that is available to us if we plan our work and work our plan. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, support the rodeosin your area and be safe with fireworks and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 

DADDY

 

My dad, “Daddy” was one of the better Hanks’ boys if not the very best of that crop. With seven brothers to compete with in a time when Tom Horn (famous Wyoming enforcer for rich ranchers) had only been hung a few years before my daddy was a young boy. These Hanks boys were farm boys like most every kid was in 1915 or so. They made their own fun playing in the woods, hunting and God only knows what else. They were tough kids that depended on each other and I’m sure there was constant competition in almost every thing they did. Their daddy was a candy maker, wine maker, and I’m told did a little bootleggin’ with his homemade brews. He would load his wagon up with his “goodies” and travel the country side selling to anyone who would buy along the way. I reckon he did okay as they all grew up big and strong and from what I understand, you didn’t want to provoke a fight with any on them, especially my daddy and my uncles Marvin and Pete.  Don’t know if this is the “gospel” but I was told that my mom played the piano not only in the movies before sound was a part of them, but in the saloon on occasion as well. I was also told my daddy filled in as the “bouncer” on occasion in Uncle Pete’s pool hall and joint. Pete was arrested along with my daddy and his daddy for bootleggin’ on one occasion. Tough guys living under difficult circumstances in difficult times. Then it all changed when mom and daddy fell in love and decided to have a family. Church was a major part of their lives and remained until they both passed. My daddy was a deacon in a Baptist church wherever we lived and we always had a Bible reading and recited the “Lord’s prayer” before going to bed.

My older brother went into the ministry after college and was a sought after pastor until he retired. His last church where he tended the flock, he was there well over twenty years, twenty six I believe. We still converse weekly and I always seek his advice on a lot of issues. They just don’t come much better. Like father like son.

Now me, on the other hand,I turned out to be a little “reckless”. Gentle readers, I’m not sure how we came up with the word “reckless”. That should be a label for someone who didn’t get into situations one might call a “wreck”. Right?

I digress. After taking a sever beating on my sixteenth birthday from someone much older and much bigger, “daddy” gave me a few pointers on how and when to do this or that when it came to fighting. That little bit of advice came in handy more times that I would want to boast about. I loved my “daddy” and he certainly loved his family and was a good provider and protector. I disappointed him in so many ways on so many different occasions I still am ashamed.

Daddy passed over thirty years ago and his and mom’s picture smiles at me each morning when I roll out of bed.

Back in the day, dads didn’t hug their sons as it was considered to be a little “soft”. I gotta’ tell ya, I grab and hug my kids, their spouses and grand kids at every opportunity. There just ain’t nothing “soft” about that.

Stay tuned my friends, I hope all you dads had a wonderful day with your families and remember, we just don’t get “do-overs”! Check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 

RAGGEDY ANN AND RALPH LAUREN

 

Raggedy Ann was the project of a feller back in 1880 until 1938. I didn’t know the little darlin’ was quite that old.

I always figured she was a product of the “depression years” so little kids wouldn’t feel so bad about not having

decent clothes to wear. Well Raggedy Ann had to have a playmate of course, so we got Raggedy Andy

so she wouldn’t feel so alone. I don’t know that for a fact gentle readers, I’m just makin’ assumptions here.

Right about now we need to throw Alan Jackson, country singer, in the mix to better make my point. I think the

ripped up blue jeans started with him. Remember how he would come out in that buckskin jacket with fringe and be

wearing those jeans all ripped up? He started a trend, in my opinion, of folks of means appearing to be willing to

present themselves with a “Raggedy Ann, Raggedy Andy” look. It was just sort of in your face, “I can wear whatever

I darn well please in public when I darn well please and am not too proud to look “raggedy”.

First let me preface this by saying, I like Mr. Lauren. I met him on a few occasions when we lived in Ridgway, Colorado

and liked him as a person. He has a beautiful ranch there and it is well appointed to say the least. I have known his ranch

manager and family for over thirty years and I can tell you they are stellar folks!

I recently viewed a You Tube video of a visit Oprah Winfrey made to Ralph’s ranch on her way to Telluride, Colorado.

As she arrives with her camera crew we find Ralph in the corral riding one of his horses around and around. I know Mr.

Lauren is not a real cowboy but by golly if he wants to pretend to be one when on the ranch I say “go for it.”

Ralph rides up to the fence where Oprah is and dismounts to greet her. He looks, I swear, as if he had just been drug through

the branding fire. His tattered, crumpled hat was no match for his dirty wrinkled shirt and jeans. One would think he was

just one of the cowboy crew that had had a bad experience with “mad cow disease”! Mr. Lauren can dress and act however

he chooses on his ranch. I am of the opinion that folks that have acquired a lot in their respective careers are entitled to

dress any way they choose. A lot of them, it appears to me, especially those in the entertainment field, feel the need to

look homeless. They need to get down and dirty and wrestle with poverty even if it’s just “play like”! You hardly ever see

a celebrity in People Magazine (at the doctor’s office) that aren’t wearing ripped up clothes that is if they are wearing any

clothes at all.

It’s gotten to the point now where you can actually purchase jeans that appear to be caked in dirt for, get this, are you

ready? FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS! I ain’t makin’ that up. Lately, there are those sneakers that have

been cut and ripped and look like something the puppy got hold of for only FOURTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS! Boy, Charlie

Brown, where’s little Pig Pen when you need him to promote this new type of apparel? Crazy huh?

I suspect there is a little guilt trip with some of these folks that have so much. Realizing that they are way up on the food

chain, they just want to let us know that really down deep they are just like us and don’t have to look spectacular all the

time. Who knows? Just sayin’…..Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and for goodness sake wear some decent clothes

when you present yourself to the rest of us! I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

WEST TEXAS WINDMILLS AND THEIR VALUE

As a young lad in a Baptist church a prayer was offered up by an old rancher/cowboy. I remember him as looking very old and tired. He ended his prayer something like this, “Lord, knowing you is as refreshing as a cool drink of windmill water from an old tomato can on a hot summer day.” I always remembered that prayer as we lived out in a Mesquite and cactus covered pasture and it was a hot place in the summer. There was a windmill a little over a half mile south of our house in an oil field camp. I spent most of my free time when I could at that windmill. It was the only water around in such an arid environment and that’s where all the critters came to drink including the livestock on the ranch. The wind seem to always be blowing enough to spin the fan however slowly that might be. There was this little stream of water coming out of the well pipe into a large metal tub and the overflow went into an earthen pond. That pond could get pretty nasty and scummy with alga and toss in some cow patties etc. Just the same there were those times I would secure my horse to the windmill tower, peel off my clothes and take a dip although I made a promise to my mom I never would do that. I always loved the sound of that fan when it creaked and groaned as if it were painful for it to produce the smallest amounts of water.

Little Miss Martha always loved windmills. She kept pictures of them throughout the house and I still have some hanging today. There was something so peaceful about that machine that defied all odds or so it seemed to just keep pumping and pumping and bringing life to a hot, dusty world around it. There were ranches where I helped out or was employed that would build a fence around a windmill taking in several acres. It was called a water trap where cattle could be trapped and worked if necessary as there were always a good set of corrals in the trap. That trap was the only place cattle could water in that particular pasture. I have fond memories of riding up to those windmills in the heat of the day to check on cattle. They would gather up under the shade of the Mesquite trees around the mill, chew their cuds and fight flies and get to the salt licks.

After riding in and out of the brush looking for problems, I would ride over to the mill, dismount, tie up my pony and retrieve that tomato can with a bailing wire handle hanging on the mill and fill it to the brim with that cool windmill water. Sometimes if necessary I would dump a can of water over my head, after removing my hat of course.

Those windmills were an oasis in a harsh environment and brought such pleasant and enduring relief on a really hot day. Those were peaceful and relaxing moments in a cowboys daily routine during the “dog days of summer”.

I especially remember that summer on the LX Ranch north of Amarillo when old Lester (83 years young) and I were prowling a five section pasture checking on the welfare of critters in our care. It was a hot July or August mid afternoon when we rode up to the windmill to water our horses and get a drink and relax for a short spell. As our ponies were drinking and we were still mounted, a yellow steer appeared from out of the brush with head tilted back while looking us over. He decided it was safe to come in for a drink from that big old circular cement tub. We were on the opposite side when he eased up and dropped his head for a drink. I noticed Lester take his rope string down and start to build a loop. I had learned never to interrupt old Lester when he was busy so I remained quite although I could see nothing wrong with the steer. In a flash that old cowboy who was no bigger than a whisper, threw a hoolihan across the tub right around the neck of that surprised steer. The steer pulled back and Lester let out a war whoop, “HEEL’EM JACK, HEEL’EM” as he pulled the steer away from the tank. “What’s wrong with’em Lester?” I bellered as I built a heel loop. “AIN’T NOTHIN’ WRONG WITH’EM, I WAS BORED!”

Typical cowboy behavior regardless of age being a consideration. All of the above has settled in my mind over the many years and each and every time I see a windmill, it all sorta’ starts bouncin’ around in my brain.

5-12-2017

THOSE ANNOYING UNTIMELY ROBO CALLS

I know you get them also gentle readers, those calls that make you just want to start screaming obscenities on occasion when you realize you’ve been had. Like today, I had just reclined for a short nap after lunch as I usually do when I can. I usually find a way to “can”. Right as I was beginning my trip into la la land, that place you go that makes you feel worse at times when you find your way outta’ there, the phone rings. My first thought was that it was my daughter as I was expecting a call sometime during the day. It wasn’t. It was Don from the Awareness Center. Don was a robot. Don says right before I hung up, “Hi, this is Don from the Awareness Center and your wellness package is ready to be shipped…” Click. Other times it’s Peg and Peg I’m not sure if she’s a real person or not, says, “you recently stayed at one of our resorts and to show our appreciation…” I shout, “NO I DIDN’T PEG, I’VE NEVER STAYED AT YOUR STUPID RESORT”…Peg has never lost her composure and is still giving her canned speech as I slam down the receiver. Poor Peg, robot or not, no one should be addressed in that manner for such a simple infraction….should they? Oh there are many more but I’ll not take the time to list them all, it’s just that these folks are looking for old folks t prey on. Now see, that’s what galls my gallbladder! Shame on them. Just you wait until they are “old folks” and I bet there’s a robot that shows up on their doorstep with a contract in hand that if you don’t know how to program it to leave, it won’t leave until you’ve signed their contract. Hummmm~!

I have a cute joke for you. Cooter, Bubba and Leon all work together climbing these outrageously tall towers to paint, repair or what ever. As they reach the very top of this giant tower Cooter slips and fall two hundred feet to the ground. By the time Bubba and Leon get down, of course their buddie has passed from massive injuries. Bubby says, “we gotta’ go tell his wife about what happened!” Leon say, “I’ll go. Bubba you just don’t know how to talk to folks. You’ll go over there and just blurt out, “COOTER’S DEAD AS A DOORNAIL AND I’M SORRY!” ” I am more learned than that, replies Leon. I’m a smoother talker and I know how to deal with a situation like this. I’ll go tell her while you call an ambulance.” Leon leaves and returns in about an hour with a case of Bud under his arm. Bubba was surprised and a wee bit alarmed and ask, “Leon, are you tellin’ me that you went and told Cooter’s wife he was dead and she gave you a case of Bub”? “Aw heck no, says Leon, I approached the house and rang the doorbell. When she opened the door I ask, “you must be Cooter’s widow?” She says, “I’m not his widow I’m his wife!” I says, “I’LL BET YA A CASE OF BUD!”

Okay, okay that may not be funny to some of you. I reckon it’s sort of a guy joke but I thought it was funny when I heard it. The thing about having coffee with my “buds” down at the T Bar Inn is that at our age we can tell the same joke any number of times and most of us won’t remember we have heard it several times before. As a matter of fact when Larry tells a joke, Alan and I will look at one another and ask…”was that number eighteen or forty six?” depending on how old we think the joke has been around. Well, this ain’t no joke. I spent five thousand dollars at the dentist yesterday and we ain’t done yet.

Holy Moly, what is this world coming to? Stay tuned gentle readers, check yer cinch on occasion, don’t fall for all that FAKE NEWS out there and I’ll c. y’all all y’all. Oh, as a sidebar, on the chance I have told the above joke once or more before, you will have to excuse me as I just passed another birthday on my way to a future dirt nap.

GOOD MORNING AMERICA

Well, gentle readers, it is a beautiful morning this Saturday as I sit down to converse with you, my friends, again. I have been sitting out on the front deck with a hot cup of coffee in the cool of the morning. I haven’t fixed breakfast as of yet mainly ’cause I wanted to be outside drinking coffee. I had already fed the ponies, made my bed and said, America, here I come!

While engaged in my morning thoughts I caught myself listening to a Meadow Lark perched on a fence post just across the road. He, she, was high lighted by a beautiful blue Colorado sky and the snow capped peaks of the Rockies some twenty miles distant Man! What a beautiful way to start the morning.

For the past few years I have tried to imitate the calls and whistles of Meadow Larks. I called out to this bird and got an immediate response. Right about now I’m thinking what a “cool” old man I am. Speaking of getting old, when you receive this I hope to turn the double sevens the following day. Yep, I do. There are those times I wonder to myself….”where did the years go? how did I get here so fast? Well, there’s a lot of you out there thinking the very same thing. The good thing about it all is that we are AMERICANS!

Yep, citizens of the most desired and sought after country on this planet. If you listen to some folks they would have you believe that America is this terrible country that abuses many of it’s citizens and those that slipped into the country that want to live out their lives here. What I haven’t been able to settle in my mind is why those complaining folks that disparage this wonderful country haven’t just packed up and left. I mean, after all, if it’s really that bad they are free to leave and there are a whole lot of them I wish would just shut up or get the heck outta’ here.

I took a short walk out into the pasture this morning just to check and see how the grass is responding to the warm day we had yesterday. It’s been so cold the grasses have just retreated back into the ground or so it appeared. I was encouraged by my short walk as the buffalo grass is poppin’ out and looking for the sun.

My daughter, Sunni and her daughter Kailee, came out yesterday to bring their new pup and Kailee came to help “Grandpa” do some mowing and cleaning up around the yard. What a sweetie they both are and I am so blessed whenever they come out.

Sunni and I wound up down at the creek as she wanted to look for colorful rocks for her flowerbeds. We got in a good visit a little later and they left so Grandpa could clean up and get ready to go dancin’. I did.

It’s  always interesting to me how our internal clock seems to always be on time. It was a little after midnight when I got to bed and at five this morning that internal clock sounded the alarm as it has after being on the ranch for so many years.

I will confess I did lay there a bit before I rolled out and put on the coffee. Yes, GOOD MORNING AMERICA!

I think that when it gets a little warmer I will jump on the Harley and run into town and check the mail. That ol’ Harley needs a little soot blown out of it. I keep thinking each year that this will be the year I ride. Either I sell that bike or give it to one of my kids or grandkids. We’ll see. I have ridden a couple of times in weeks past and it appears that I THINK I’m still young enough to wrestle that thing here and about. We’ll see. The last thing I want to happen is to wind up on the six o’clock news.

No thank you. I am looking forward to happy days and some summer time fun. Winter always seems to drag away some of my excitement for living when it refuses to give up and leave until it’s appropriate time. That time is now, hot dawg! Here’s wishing y’all a happy, safe, fun summer. Stay tuned, wear those life jackets while on the water, wear your sun screen, watch out for rattlesnakes, remember to check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

 

RED LIPPED BRONC STOMPER

Gentle readers, if you receive this on the 8th day of May then this was the day that I married “Little Miss Martha” some fifty two years ago. Martha was an extremely sweet, quite, patient and loving woman. What a doll she was. Down deep inside of me I reckon I wanted her to be a little more on the edge but I saw what a true value she would be in my life.

She was all that I expected her to be and more. On the other hand I always liked a woman who could wear a pair of spurs, handle a rope and know her way around a horse. That wasn’t Martha. She would ride with me and the kids at times but never out of a trot. Well, except for that one day she was determined to go against my SOLID advice and ride a hard headed, big stout colt that was still a bronc. At least that was my opinion of him for what time I had spent on his back. He ran off with her and launched her some fifteen feet into the terra firma dislocating her thumb and filling her mouth with dirt and grass.

That scared me to death and her as well and any time after that she was more than willing to listen to my sage advice when it came to what horse she should ride if she rode at all. She didn’t ride much at all after that incident but it did clue her in to some of what a cowboy’s life can accommodate at times.

I have been watching You Tube videos of a young lady who calls herself Adrian Buckaroogirl. Now this is one attractive, entertaining (plays and sings with a guitar) and a very few years back was a “red lipped bronc stomper”. For sure this gal was like the girls that rode broncs back in the twenties and thirties. She has videos of her working the branding pen draggin’ calves to the fire and building fence and so on. This is one tough and beautiful young woman who has nothing to prove.

She, according to her, loves horses, doing ranch work, looking like a lady always in makeup and riding broncs. Man, I think if I was forty years old again and single I’d hit a trail to Nevada and look this cowgirl up!

It always made me happy, for some reason, to see a gal throw her leg over her own Harley and ride off as if she were shopping at Macys. You see women in all sorts of occupations these days that used to be “men only” jobs. I love to see a woman in working clothes with a tool belt on or a pistol on her hip. My lady doctor here is in the Marine reserves and has been put out of a aircraft into the ocean and left for hours before she was picked up again. She is truly a pleasure to have as my “doc”. She also plays or has played drums in a country and western band. How can ya top that? Well,

I reckon you could be a beautiful blond with ruby red lips coming out of the buckin’ chute at some rodeo on a big stout bronc while the cowboys are all standing around feeling a little out of place. Truth is, my “Little Miss Martha” may have been more woman than any lady bronc rider around only in a different way. Had she been an accomplished bronc rider that would have made me feel some what lacking in that area, I might not have wanted to marry her at all. Just sayin….. ! I ordered a new straw hat from Big Bend Saddlery in Alpine, Texas and it should arrive today. I’ll shape it, look in the mirror as I walk out the door to go dancin’, and do the best an old man can do on the dance floor. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and just to let ya know, you can find peace in the sagebrush and dirt! I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

4-7-2017

Cute Stories Concerning Marriage

How is your marriage or relationship going Buckwheat? Just askin’. If you have every been present when I was entertaining you may have heard this story once before. A couple goes in for counseling at the wife’s request concerning their present relationship.

The Doc. take the woman aside in another room and visits with her for twenty minutes. He repeats the same process with the husband. Then they all sit down on a couch with the Doc between the couple. He addresses the husband with this. “Sir, it appears to me that after twenty three years of marriage you don’t even have a clue about your wife. You don’t know what her hopes and dreams are and have always been. You seem to be centered on what you want and need without giving one single thought to your precious wife here. She has tried to reach out to you but to no avail.” With that he turns to the woman, grabs her up and puts a wet sloppy lip lock on her. She is surprised and shocked but seemed to have enjoyed the experience. “That sir, is exactly what your wife needs at least three times a week!” the Doc blurted out. “Is that your expert opinion?” muses the husband.

“Yes it is. I have been a counselor for over forty years and that’s my EXPERT OPINION”! “Well, sir, that being the case I’ll bring her by on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Man I hope your marriage is doin’ better than that!

Here’s another: A husband and wife are out driving through the country on a Sunday afternoon. He suddenly feels an urgent need to let his wife of many, many years that he has always considered her to be  hard headed, stubborn, unwilling to compromise and that she might even be a wee bit SLOW! Just at that moment when he has dumped on her they are passing by a pasture full of mules. Ole hubby, gentle readers, glances at the mules, turns to his wife and ask, “relatives of yours”? She stares straight ahead without any emotion and replies, “YEP, INLAWS!!” So there you have it, so the back and forth, the unmasked emotion that suddenly presents itself unexpectedly. One lady said, “if you want your husband in a committed relationship, put him in an institution. Sorry guys, I am picking on us fellers a little too much in this column but sometimes we need it. I Know of married couples that have been married FOREVER  and yet they still seem to be much in love and enjoy their spouses as much as ever.

Little Miss Martha and I had a good marriage the way I remember it, however now that she is gone I also remember things I did and said that I shouldn’t have said or done. As Easter has just passed I would encourage you to consider new beginnings if you need them in your relationships. You just don’t really know sometimes the value of what you have until you don’t have it any more. I do hope you are well, live with someone who truly loves you and visa versa and are excited about your future.

If not, you may have to put more effort into the things that will make your relationship worth having.

Man, I just had the thought I may be the very last person to be giving anyone advice on relationships. Heck, I don’t even have a girlfriend. Not really lookin’ girls, just sayin’. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, put a sloppy lip lock on your sweetheart and if he’s not there, put one on your husband! Just kiddin’, I’ll c. y’all, all y’all

Oct-2016

The Value of a Bonded Family

I’m sure beyond a reasonable doubt, gentle readers, that all of you had a mother and a father. Some of those family relationships are memorable, some are valued and treasured and some are not. I remember driving by an ex employee’s house one summer day only to see him carried on a stretcher with face covered headed to the funeral home. His daughter had finally confessed to his sexual abuse after so many years and he shot himself instead of face his peers. Those situations, thank God, are not common place, but they do happen more than we would want. Today there are so many blended families, it’s sometimes hard for all involved to adjust to one another and feel like maybe the family that they wanted is not what they have. On the other hand, there are those blended families that fit like a glove and work well for everyone.

At this writing, the second presidential debate will take place tonight. I look at these two folks and sometimes wonder what their family lives must be like. I wouldn’t want to be in either one regardless of the financial benefits. Would you?

One family stuck together as a unit but mom and dad have such despicable reputations for selfishness, ruthlessness, and complete lack of a moral fiber it pauses one to wonder how and why they are still holding each other up. On the other hand, we have a man who uses phrases so reckless and abuses the art of compromise and is a “me first, I am number one”!

He has been married more than once, has a blended family and his and her children on the surface seem to admire their dad and sing his praises. I am so sad, my friends, that our, my country, has offered these two up as candidates for the highest office in the land and leader of the free world.

I observe the families of all the critters that I have come in contact with in my seventy six years and it’s comforting to see how they work together and how protective they are of one another. A good mother cow will eat you alive if she even suspects you may bring harm to her baby. That is the norm for most if not all animals that I have been around. Male lions in Africa and boar grizzlies in our country sometimes kill and eat their young. They want no future competition. There always seems to be that story on the news about the “boyfriend” baby sitting his girlfriend’s baby and winds up abusing the child and the result is death. Many times the mother will come to the defense of her worthless male counter part. Those stories literally break my heart. I have witnessed in public either mom or dad jerking their child around and screaming at them and those little ones just seem to have no place for a soft landing or a place to hide to avoid more abuse. You hear about some child chained, fed dog food, sleeping in his or her own body waste and being beaten almost daily. There must be a special place in hell for those who abuse their gifts from God. For me, the love that I have for my children and grand children is without bounds or borders.

“Little Miss Martha” was the same way. Did we have issues in our marriage, of course we did. Almost everyone does, but when you love your family and all it’s members, you find the solution around your problems and hold on dearly to what you have and the responsibilities we have to keep it all together. Families are so important in today’s world when all are looking into that little device sending a message to someone and not taking the time for a one on one, face to face conversation.

Just take a moment and consider where we are headed and what the end result might be. Walk over to the fence and watch that ol’ momma cow or your household pet and be humble enough to take a little advice from them. Love you guys! Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and be the very best person you can possibly be every day and I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.

Sept 2016

WHAT WILL MONDAY BRING

Mondays as a general rule bring groans from a lot of folks because, of course, it’s the beginning of another week at work. I always looked forward to Mondays when I was managing ranches. Mondays were the start of challenges, duty, and fair shakes all the way around with employees if possible. I loved my job and all that it represented and couldn’t wait to get to another Monday. There was this one job that I had that it wasn’t that way at all. That’s for another time. On this Monday as I write, I am looking forward to an enjoyable day. First there are the prairie dogs that have suddenly reappeared down in the back end of the pasture. I have no idea where they came from. The plague got rid of them the last time and the time before and the time before that. However, here they are again so I will be off to pay them a little visit to see if we can reach some compromise! You believe that don’t ya? And guess what else is happening tonight? Yes, it’s the GREAT DEBATE between Hillary and “the Donald”. It should be exciting. Of course, by the time you receive this column it will be a week later and all of the “P.C. commentators” will have had an opportunity to tell you what you witnessed looking, of course,  through their particular set of eyeballs. Then there is Monday night football to watch if you aren’t into political mud slinging. This is gonna be a busy Monday for me as I need to do some work in the corrals and install a new gate. Fall is a wonderful time of year to be outside even on a Monday. The air is crisp and clear and a little new snow on the mountain peaks if you gaze in that direction.

Friday night was fun for me as it usually is. I had a date to go to a Daryl Worley concert at the Sundance Steakhouse and Saloon. My date was an attractive, highly educated young woman who had been out to ride horses with me recently. To call her a country girl would be like calling yours truly a rocket scientist! Bless her heart I don’t think she would know a black baldie from a black bear. I have to give her credit where credit is due. She loves country music and is an excellent dancer. She recently flew to New York for a concert by some C&W artist I don’t recall. Just the same it was a fun night.

I think for the most part, I am just looking forward to the days ahead while enjoying the day in progress. I always enjoy getting to get outside to do something, anything if the weather is agreeable. At my age I am not so fond of a Monday when I wake up to blowing snow, ten degrees and hungry horses waiting to be fed. I feel guilty if I don’t get the coffee on and head out the door into the storm and take care of my buddies. I have become a “fair weather” cowboy in my old age. I have had offers to go “cowboy” for this person or that and I politely turn down the offers if the weather is not in my favor. I reckon that’s what old age will do to you.

I recently watched a video of the Spur’s Bell Ranch cowboy crew out with the wagon for five weeks getting all of their cattle worked and calves branded. It was cold, it was hot, it was windy, it came torrential down pours and none of that got in their way. A second look would tell you that most of those cowboys were under thirty five. It is a young man’s game. A Monday to them is like any other day but I never heard anyone complain. So, I’m off into this Monday with anticipation that I will have a good, eventful day with no real problems. I hope your Monday’s are beneficial to you and you can wake up to as many Mondays as you desire for as long as you relish! Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, get involved in the election this year, and I will c. y’all, all y’all.

Sept 2016

HAVE WE OUTSMARTED OURSELVES?

Gentle readers, have we, in fact outsmarted ourselves? That’s a reasonable question don’t ya think? Here’s how I see it. We have smart phones, smart cars, and smart alecks. I’ll take the smart alecks any day of the week. Here’s why- I’m apparently not as smart as a fifth grader and all of these objects that are not in my wheel house leave me lacking.

It appears that we can be watched or listened to at any given time in most instances. That’s a little scary if you have no privacy in your own home let alone some place you ain’t supposed to be. You see the Russians are intercepting our emails anytime they want. That’s what I have been told. Not my emails or yours, just Hillary’s or Colin’s or I reckon anyone in our government. That may be true or not. I just don’t know what to believe any more because it appears it’s just okay to lie and to be lied to. Hummmm…how do you feel about that? Even our local county officials can sit there at the computer, pull up your address and see everything on your place. I don’t like that. I have nothing, absolutely nothing to hide, I just don’t like folks lookin’ over my shoulder. If you have the right connection on a smart phone you ask Abagail or whoever’s voice you have to ask questions or make demands to and she or they will just jump right up and see that all of their resources are at your disposal. Do you remember Dick Tracy or Maxwell Smart? Dick had a smart watch that he could communicate through.

Guess what? We do also if you want to spend the big bucks. Maxwell Smart had a smart shoe. Well, we ain’t got there yet.  I  don’t know of too many folks that want to take their shoe off to talk through, do you?

I have thought about getting a smart phone for a little while. They seem so interesting. In fact, they are so interesting that folks that have them are always involved in one way or another with them or so it seems. I don’t want to be one of those. I do have the old type flip phone and never turn it on unless I am expecting a call. I use it only for emergences. My land line is getting so expensive that I am at least thinking about getting rid of it once and for all. I think if the truth be known, I’m an old guy and all of this new high tech stuff has ambushed me and I’m embarrassed because I am not paddling my canoe along with everyone else. I reckon I just am more comfortable living simply and not being burdened with challenges I just don’t want to deal with at present. I know, I know, purt near everyone has a smart phone and is addicted to it and it appears to be one of their appendages at times, and I find that a little sad. How in the world could you dig a post hole while trying to text on your phone? I see folks driving and texting all the time and so do you. Are you one of those? I sure hope not.

I can see a future maybe after I’m gone, maybe not where we have personal robots to go fetch whatever, put dishes in the dishwasher, jump in the smart car and go to the store and retrieve whatever we need. We, my friend, will be weak, whiny, hollow eyed and lazy and wonder what went wrong. Here’s what I say-“cowboy up”, don’t reach the point where you no longer are in control and have lost all ambition!! Stay tuned, check yer cinch and your email or text on occasion, and count your blessings every day. Remember, there is some child out there that doesn’t even have a smart phone!!

I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.