If there was a reel for this ranch wife’s time spent on the ranch, there would 100%, hands down, for sure be a bloopers cut at the end. One that was dedicated to all of the blonde moments, huh-ohs and flops that add a little excitement to our ranch life. Now don’t worry, the ranch is still standing, our marriage is still solid and nothing that had to be undone, couldn’t be done. Truth be told, once I moved passed the shame of my failures, some of them were actually pretty humorand added a little humor that we can use a bit more of.
Not a Chicken-Herder
I’ve said it before and will likely say it again and again, but I don’t like chickens. Like, really don’t like chickens. I don’t do chickens. And even less so with the herd (flock?) of chickens that we have now. These chickens apparently don’t have a personal bubble and aren’t afraid of anything because they like to get all up in my business. Anymore I don’t gather eggs or check chickens without someone to protect me, like my kids.
Super impressed with my mothering, right?
I feel like I have been plenty patient with these hens wanting to peck my hands and toes and try to fly up in my face but when they had me cornered in the coop I decided this was no longer a one mom job. Someone walking past might have thought the scared screeches and squawks were coming from the chickens, not the other way around. These days I brave the chickens with my courageous four year old taking the lead, boldly shooing away the chickens as we walk across the coop to the nesting boxes. Then I hoist him up to gather the eggs as fast as he can while I keep watch. Every time I wonder if this is the day I will have to call retreat and leave the eggs in order get out of there in one piece.
I know. Its ridiculous. They are just chickens and it only takes a few minutes to gather those eggs. I should totally be up to the task but when it comes to the chickens I have a faint heart and fall short.
Backing up is Just Like Going Forward, Just in Reverse.
The science of backing up a horse trailer is beyond brain surgery and rocket science. Ok, not really, but when it comes to this rancher’s wife there is a lot of room for improvement. The Rancher just laughs at my deficiency and reminds me over and over the backing up is just like going forward, but in reverse.
Genius.
I understand the principles of it but applying it can be a little challenging. If I’m lined up with a straight shot and all tires are straight and I’m praying really hard I can usually pull it off. Or if someone is there to tell me which way to go and shake their head when I turned the wheel the wrong way I can manage to get backed in where we need. (Why someone would let me back up instead of kicking me out of the driver’s seat kinda blows my mind…) But if I’m on my own it can be somewhat problematic.
Like the day we decided to move a group of heifers on our way home. The Rancher hopped on his horse and asked us to drive the truck and trailer around to open the gate. Sure. Easy. I am a professional gate opener. So we get there, open the gate and wait. Unfortunately the heifers weren’t having anything to do with the truck and trailer there by the gate and wouldn’t go through. That meant I had to roll up my sleeves and back ‘er up. I was doing so good, backing up with the trailer heading where I wanted it and then I turned too much this way and that and before I knew and I was taking up the whole road. Traffic isn’t all the busy down our road so I wasn’t too worried but one glance up and down the road proved me wrong and I couldn’t just wait for The Rancher to bail me out as he has done more times than I would like to admit.
Don’t worry. Common sense prevailed and I just pulled ahead enough to be out of the way of traffic and the heifers and all ended well. Something I probably should have done to start with. But my rancher’s wife ego took a serious blow. I mean what kind of ranch raised cattlewomen has such a handicap?
From Hero to Zero
Its not very often that The Rancher calls me to save the day to help him out of a pickle and I relish the chance to be the hero. More often than I would like, there are those days that my triumphant moment turns to a flop.
One of these days stands out in my mind so distinctly because I quickly turned from rescuer to rescuee in a hurry. It was a cold January morning, The Rancher was out feeding cows and was pushing to get done quickly. The ground was covered in snow and the intense wind had blown drifts in some places and bare ground in others. The Rancher had thought he would be safe to drive through some snow but realized too late that he had just sunk the truck into a well disguised drift. He gave a good effort to get out to find that he was too stuck to get out alone.
With no one else around to help, The Rancher called me to bring our truck down to see we could get him moving again. I come charging in to save the day, beaming with pride that he would call me to help (pretending that it was do more to my skill than to his desperation). I pulled up to him to get my set of directions- pull around in front so we can yank the truck out. I put the truck in gear and start to go around where I was so sure The Rancher had told me to go. Seconds later I realized that was NOT the way I should have gone and sunk my truck up to its axels in snow.
What a rescue…
I’m sure The Rancher was kind and patient and understanding at my less than helpful efforts. Maybe not, but we can’t help but be sympathetic to his situation of having not one, but two trucks to pull out when we were already running behind…
With true stick-to-it determination, The Rancher managed to first dig his own truck out, and then pull mine out. He has been brave enough to call for help again, but jumps in the drivers seat before things go from bad to worse.
Helping in the Wrong Direction
While I love every opportunity to jump in and help, I realize that there is some amount of time that I am going to need to get caught up to whatever the guys are working on. Sometimes it takes just a second and I’m ready to roll. Then there are those days that I am rolling in the opposite direction.
Literally.
On the hot summer evenings, I think that moving wheel lines is a great way to end the day. We load the kids up, enjoy riding across the field and cooling off in the sprinklers. Its refreshing, even fun! Having my own pipe-moving-experience I have no problem jumping in to help. I consider it one of the perks of marrying me, that The Rancher got a wife willing to do a little irrigation.
On occasion, he just might think otherwise.
After a few irrigating oopses, there are always two things The Rancher is sure to tell me before I head off to move any lines on my own. First which direction the wheel line is moving and second, how many turns I need to go. Even as I’m writing this I’m second guessing how many we should do. To be fair to me, it can be hard to notice which direction you are moving across the field. Sure you may go the same direction year after year and it isn’t that difficult to see what is wet versus dry. But when the alfalfa is tall, the kids are distracting and you are just trying to get the work done, you just start moving and its entirely possible you are rolling in the wrong direction.
Maybe this sort of sub par help is why we have gotten rid of most of our wheel lines for pivots. Hhmmm…
I hate to admit that some of my out on the ranch skills have gotten a little rusty. Don’t get me wrong, I am helpful, more often than not. But in all honesty, I have my days that I just can’t win. Part of my charm has to be helping the rest of the crew look good. I’m sure that if all of my time and energy was dedicated to just the ranch, I would sail along, no problem, day after day. But its not and so I will take the ranch wife flops and laughs along the way. They always say, “laughter is the best medicine.”
Photos by the great Kendra Bird at kendrabirdphotography.com
