Silent Sunday-Fall in Northern New Mexico

Life With Cattle

We are playing host to three young heifers (teenaged virgin cows) because our friend has a bull at his place romancing the older ladies. If a heifer is bred too young, they most likely will have a difficult time birthing their babies and you don't want that.

So the three girlfriends (AKA The Supremes) along with our four steers (castrated bulls used for meat), can really wreak havoc. The term "Bull in a china shop" is real: cattle are big, curious, opportunistic galoots. Check out what happened when another bunch got into the growing dome.

This morning I was troubleshooting the drip irrigation system, finding leaks and digging up the hose to determine what needed to be done. Like many people with ADHD, when I am concentrating, I am in hyperfocus mode. So I was in my own little world when all of a sudden I felt hot breath on the top of my head. When I looked up, I was eye to eye with St. Thomas, the brown one. He's a nice boy, but he's getting very big!

The cattle have an entire creek full of fresh mountain water, but that water leak in the drip line was just way too interesting and before I knew it, I was surrounded. So I turned off the water, closed the gate and went inside, hoping they'd go away.

They didn't. They decided they liked it just where they were.

 Don Everly, one of the girlfriends and Ace Frehley were polite squatters. They didn't attempt to smash any plants and were perfectly happy under this pine tree.

 St. Thomas,  Phil Everly and Girlfriend 2 decided they liked this patch of chamisa. It's the last plant to flower each year and signals that fall is coming. I think the cattle were there because it is supposed to rain today--check out the rain clouds gathering. When it's fixing to rain, flies start biting and maybe this was their way of keeping the flies off.

St. Thomas is hilarious. He just buried himself in the chamisa and at first all I could see was his big old head.

The picture of contentment.


 Also looking quite comfy is Girlfriend 3, guarding the grand entrance gate. Before she lay down, she gifted us with a big pile of poop on the driveway and Tom stepped in it.

We like to keep it classy at the Nickel and Dime.

Until next time....

An Encouraging Sunday

Without this:

 You can't have this:

Have a Happy Sunday!

Buddha Has Lost His Head

The steers knocked Buddha around one too many times and he has lost his head. Well, not lost it, but it's not where it's supposed to be.

Wouldn't it be great if something just as earth shattering could be met with such a serene smile?

The Ranch Has Snow!

We haven't seen this much snow since mid-March five years ago when we moved in. This past couple of weeks have seen waves of snowstorms, not like back east, but substantial enough for it to stay on the ground for longer than a day or so. Everyone says, "Thank God for the moisture!" 

Tom took some photos while he and I hiked around the ranch, so, Trudy, here you go. It really is a Winter Wonderland.

We were glad the propane truck was able to get in since we were running a bit low.

 That's Earl, the delivery driver, braving the elements to deliver our propane. I gratefully sent him on his way with a mug of Raspberry Zinger tea and a bag of Trader Joe's trail mix.

Here's the view, looking north toward the beaver dam along the creek.

 Ms. Pearl decided she didn't want to wade across the creek.

I miss our steers. Tom doesn't, though, because they tended to destroy his targets and knock over the park benches scattered around the ranch.

Ms. Pearl wants you to know that she didn't need a coat because she just keeps moving and that generates heat. Besides, there's nothing quite so invigorating as rolling around in the snow for a snow bath.

We have a few more days of snow and that's just fine. This is the trade-off for mild, low-80's summers, and for that, we are glad.

Looking south. That's me and Ms. P walking across the front pasture.

Cheers!

They Call It God's Country

 Ms. Pearl and I went for a little walk yesterday and while watching MP trot around and then freeze, sniffing the air and wondering just what was that interesting scent, I took a look around. I mean, really looked around at this gorgeous place we now call home.

It makes a big dog look small.

 The rimrock topped by the mesa looms over this part of the ranch.

When someone in northern New Mexico asks where I live and I tell them, they either don't know where the heck that place is, or they say immediately, "That's God's Country!"

I just call it "Home."

Boyz in the Hood

This morning I drove six miles up our dirt road for coffee with a neighbor. We were going to inspect her beehives, but the weather turned stormy and windy which isn't something bees like. So we took a rain check.

 On the way home I saw these pretty boys and had to stop to say hi.

The guy on the left nickered a hello and ambled closer when I got out of the truck.

Then the pinto decided to investigate whether there were treats involved.

Sadly, I had no goodies but they didn't seem to hold a grudge.

And that ominous sky? Nothing happened!

Coyote Creek Traffic

Yesterday I took a trip to ThreadBear, my local quilt shop in Las Vegas, New Mexico. I'd already been there Monday for our Modern Quilt meet-up, soon to be guild, but I had a quilt to quilt and so the Bernina spent the night there and we met up again the next day.

I will write more about ThreadBear soon, because their brand new website is up and running. They are now selling their neato fabric online as well as in their shop on The Plaza in Las Vegas. I love their fabrics, especially their Hispanic looking stuff, and want ThreadBear to stay alive and well in Las Vegas for a long, long time.

But here is what I want to show you today:

As I was driving on the dirt road which takes me to the highway, I saw some hulking forms on the road. Whoops! Cows are out, but they weren't mine, thank goodness.

As soon as they saw my truck, the bovine escapees hightailed it to the side of the road which I thought was extremely polite.

Some of these cows were extremely preggo and there were babies, too, so they stayed pretty close to home,  the field beyond this broken gate, I think.

Seven hours later as I drove back home, they were still out, but that's how it goes in Northern New Mexico. Eventually someone will fix that gate but it doesn't have to be right now.

Sometimes I Wish I Were Spiderman

Wouldn't it be fun to be Spiderman out here?

Silent Sunday: December in Mora County, NM

Ms. Pearl is a Big Baby Wuss

Pearlie Mae is an intrepid hiker, but along the way she often picks up a sticker in her paw. When this happens, she limps along until someone says, "Aww, do you have a sticker?"

She stops in her tracks, lifts up the offending paw and waits patiently until someone pulls it out.

Just Past Sunset at the Nickel and Dime Ranch

 Looking south from the ranch headquarters porch, a.k.a the cabin.

Happy First Day of Fall!

We spent the last days of summer in Santa Fe and Albuquerque, shopping, doing errands, and generally just bustling about town. It takes a little getting used to, the traffic, noise and people, but we adapt and I try to remember to drive with purpose while in town so no one honks at me to get the heck going.

Here's a shot of Albuquerque in October during the balloon festival.

Coming back home is a relief, though. This is how it looks on our way home. Breathing is easier and my face loses that squinchiness it gets when I am stressed.

That's not our home, but it's pretty, isn't it?

At our place fall is making its presence known. The maple tree is losing its leaves.

The three loaded apple trees are An Event, since we only get apples every three or four years around here. Late frosts kill the blossoms.

 I am trying to wrap my head around preserving them all. Drying, making apple pie filling, applesauce, and storing the very best ones seem like the way to go.

The grapes surprised me. I did what I thought was a klutz job pruning the vines and wondered if they'd even live. Here are the grapes from just one third of a grapevine.

Two baskets full of grapes made three and a half quarts of concord grape juice. I did the whole canning thing, crushing the grapes, extracting the juice in a big pot, and bottling and canning the juice. I wondered if it was worth all that work for three and a half quarts of juice. Then I looked at how much a quart of organic grape juice was at the supermarket. Dang! I made $24 worth of grape juice! 

This winter I will climb the stairs to our bedroom closet, the coolest place in the house, and select a jar of grape juice. In the the kitchen I will open the jar and pour the summer of 2012 into my glass. Then I will inhale its essence and say, "Yep, it was worth it."

Happy First Day of Autumn!

Trude, Don't Look! It's a Snake!

I was puttering about in the yard when Tom and Ms. Pearl burst through the door from the garage and beelined their way to the house.

He was carrying a pistol on his way back out of the house and said, "Come see what's in the garage."

I kind of knew what I'd see. There were clues: the hurrying, the pistol.

Yep. 

So Tom dispatched the rattler while I kept saying, "Oh. Oh. Ew. Ew." Or as they say in Albuquerque, "Eeeeeee!"

Sorry Mr. Snakey. I know you were just looking for a cool place to rest out of the hot sun, but we walk through the garage many times a day. And you rattled at Ms. Pearl.

I allowed your buddy Black Snakeyboy to stay in the garage after I saw his skinny black tail disappear under the work bench a couple weeks ago because he eats mice and he won't kill Miss Bonnie like you would. She's only 6 and a half pounds, too small to withstand a poisonous bite.

And we have little dog relatives, like Cousin Murphy and Lexilulu, who we must protect.

Cousin Murphy (I lost my Lexi pics on the other computer!)

So rest in peace, Mr. Rattlesnake. May your heaven be full of rodents and cool garage floors.

Northern New Mexico Traffic Report

The other day I answered a phone call from a local friend.

Friend: Hey Bridget! How are you?

Bridget: I'm fine! How are you?

Friend: Doing good. Hey, have you driven on the highway to Mora lately?

Bridget: Nope.

Friend: Well, at Mile Marker 5 there's a big old dead rattlesnake,  about 8 inches around! Somebody already cut off the rattles.

Bridget: Cool! We're going that way tomorrow and I'll check it out.

Friend: It's really big. Okay, bye.

Bridget: Bye

Good Kitty: Stone Cold Killer

Sweet little Miss Bonnie has been on a killing spree. In the past two weeks she has dispatched two gophers and one large rat.

When she pops through the cat door and makes that otherworldly predatory feline yowl announcing that yes, indeedy, she has been a busy catty, I always blanch a bit. Will it be alive? Will she let it loose in the house? Will there be blood?

Luckily these three victims have been dead with no blood. So I say, "Good kitty!", encase my hands in old Wal Mart bags, and gather up the body for a fast fling over the fence.

Want to read more about Miss Bonnie? Click this link.

Goodbye to the Angus Boys

The remaining three Angus steers went off to the processor yesterday and though only the red steer had a name, Sir Loin, and the other two had number tags attached to their ears, I have learned that when we raise meat up close and personal, knowing them as individuals just can't be helped. And then it's sad to see them go.

Sir Loin, a Red Angus/Brown Swiss cross was the wild one. He wanted little to do with us and usually would hang back when we fed hay this past winter, letting the two Black Angus fellows rush up to the cafeteria window first.

Numbers 30 and 27 were the sweeties, taking treats from our hands, even allowing a little nose scratching in the winter. Once the grass started growing, though, forget it! All I'd get would be a galoopy, black-tongued lick on the hand once in a while. Then it was back to grazing in the grass. I could dig it.

Yesterday they moved into their temporary corral with little fanfare, loaded right into the trailer, and then they were gone. Mike, one of the guys driving The Boys to their end, said to me later that I looked sad as I told them goodbye and thank you. Yes, I was sad.

All I know is The Nickel and Dime Ranch was an excellent home, pasture and hay for their entire lives and the freedom to meander wherever their hooves took them on the ranch's 100 acres.

There would be no feedlot destination for these guys, fed corn and corn only.

There would be no manure dust kicked up by thousands of cows to infect their eyes.

There would be no foul, stinking air or open sewers.

Yes, they would have had more fat marbling after a stay at the feedlot, but at what cost? Is that any way to treat someone you know?

The processor was small, slaughtering (I hate that word, but that's what happens) about 6 animals a day, so there was less stress for the animals and for the folks doing the work than at a large corporate conveyer belt kind of place.

The small natural foods grocers and restaurants who will buy the beef will be happy to know where the Angus Boys came from and that the rancher raised them with respect and care.

We will miss watching our steers resting in the grass, satisfied, as the light changes in the New Mexico afternoon.

 Angus Boys, thank you, and goodbye.

Come Set a Spell

The weather is friendly enough for sitting on the porch, usually in the afternoon, a cold beverage close at hand.

Sometimes rain snare drums the metal roof or clouds drift across a blue sky like dancers across an ever changing stage.  Red tail hawks surf the air currents, wings barely moving, scanning below for an unsuspecting morsel to venture out of its rock home.

Life is good.

Spring Randomness-Some Nickel and Dime Photos

Spring is finally, really here, with all the trees and bushes leafed out and, for a while at least, warmer weather. When we're talking warm, what do I mean? Dang! It was 78 degrees! It was "I could have stripped off my clothes and run around" warm! But I didn't.

The grass is growing and the steers have been having a party, moving throughout the Nickel and Dime like they're at a progressive dinner or something. You don't see any cattle in this photo because they are over in The Enchanted Forest testing the grass.  When we tossed out the last of our hay,  they ignored it. I think The Angus Boys like eating locally.

The bees are humming along, tasting all the blossoms: apples, pears, these pink things, and the lilacs you can see in the background.

Speaking of lilacs, I had never seen them growing or smelled their delicious scent until we moved here. When I smelled them, it knocked me for a loop and the next thing I knew I was weeping uncontrollably. I think I associated them with orange blossoms, which used to be the signature scent in Corona, CA. The days of orange blossoms permeating the Corona air are gone, so maybe I was weeping for the past. M said it was probably hormones. I think she's right.

A series of storms has arrived, and these clouds were the beginning of it. Isn't the New Mexico sky amazing? No wonder artists like it here.