I’m not really a rancher. Sure, I raise cattle for a living, I brand the calves and ship them away to become hamburgers, steaks, stews, and all of the other myriad of tasty things that beef can become. I fix fence, round-up herds, and spend much of each day “on the range.” But I’m not really a rancher. Please don’t misunderstand I do love my job, most of the time (which is a dam sight better than many people can say).
As long as I can remember every time we get a winter storm I'm regaled with stories of the legendary winter of nineteen-seventy-seven, seventy-eight. This winter is not remembered, as you might imagine, for being the year I was born. Rather, my birth is merely a passing footnote in the saga of one of the worst winters in living memory: "Seventy-Eight, the year you were born, now that was a bad winter." That sort of thing.
As of my previous post I had planned on blogging about harvest. The dirt, long hours, heat, and general all-around unpleasantness that goes along with it. You know, whine about my job (isn't that one of the primary motivations for bloggers after all?). Well, I'm sad to report that I've been given no cause to do so. I can't justifiably bitch, whine, mope, or even kvetch about harvest this year. The reason for this unreasonably sanguine attitude is that for some unknown--yet entirely welcome reason--I was not asked to help this year.
I like to think that so far I've kept the few things that I written on here relatively positive. The world just doesn't need more people moaning about how bad everything is all the time. Sure some things around are pretty bad; we all know that, but you can't swing a proverbial "cat" on the proverbial "internet" without hitting a proverbial "blogger" complaining about their Helio Ocean, or iPhone, or Amazon Kindle, or EV-DO not working exactly like they think it should (all products that don't work in Montana by the way, except for EV-DO, which just won't work within 60 miles of my home.)
We finally got our asses moved! At least enough that we're now sleeping in our new house. What a relief! We still have a lot of stuff left to move before our new house is really home, but we do have enough to get by. The biggest remaining hurdles are moving the rest of Ruth's workroom for her businesses (links at right), and our 4,000+ volume library, but both of those thing will have much more space in our new house.
I haven't given up on the whole blogging thing, at least not yet. I've been awfully busy moving, or at least starting to. The problem is: Ruth and I are moving to the ranch house, which was my parent's house. And unfortunately my mom was (and to a slightly lesser extent my dad is) a terrible pack-rat. To make matters worse, my aunt, uncle, grandfather, great-uncle, & etc. (all relatives on my mom's side, cancer causing genes are a little less fun than a barrel of monkeys aren't they) were all pack-rats and died within the past ten years. Well, guess where all that stuff ended up.
