Desert Boy and Santa

Yesterday was the Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas when the three wise men reached baby Jesus with their gifts. So the Christmas season is now officially over, despite the many Christmas decorations I still need to take down and put away. But I couldn't resist posting one more Christmas photo, this one taken by friends who witnessed Desert Boy's first encounter with Santa Claus. Do you think he got what he wanted for Christmas?

Recovering

Hi, Desert Boy and I are back from a trip to see family in the Midwest. It was great fun, but I have to get back to work now and so don't have time to post today. But check back tomorrow!

Desert Boy Goes to the Outlet Mall

We're visiting family, and over the weekend we went to the outlet mall. While the ladies enjoyed shopping, Desert Boy hung out with his Grandpa and Uncles. What did they do for a few hours? Watch the video to see!

Desert Boy Learns to Ice Skate

Our recent cold weather has produced a sheen of ice on many surfaces, including this lake. I let Desert Boy go out and find out what ice is like. He slid around...

...but liked to stay out on the ice.

But he found it's not easy to walk and crashed. He can say the words "ice" and "crash." He got to practice them a lot.

A fall doesn't faze him, he's up and at it again.

Until the next crash. Nevertheless, he didn't want to leave---until his hands got cold. That's another word "cold," usually accompanied by whimpering. We've tried to explain the use of mittens, but he thinks they're just in the way. 

Wild Turkeys

When  I was doing the Christmas Bird Count a few weeks ago, I found some turkeys up one of the canyons. As I mentioned in a previous post, wild turkeys are not native to this area, but were introduced by the state wildlife agency. So whenever I see them, I think of Thanksgiving dinner.

The turkeys must sense this, because once they saw me, they turned around and hurried back into the brush.

I waited for awhile, and sure enough, they came trotting out, crossing the road in front of me.

If you're wondering about the house in the background, yes, it is awesome. It is currently run as a bed and breakfast and is very popular for weddings and family reunions. The landscape around it is fantastic, with steep cliffs, a maze of mountain roads, and views of peaks over 10,000 feet tall.

Okay, back to the turkeys. It's true domesticated turkeys can't fly, but wild ones can--here is proof. They often perch in trees at night to protect themselves from predators, like mountain lions.

They aren't particularly concerned being near other wildlife, though, as they scramble past the mule deer on the left and continue up the canyon.

Polar Bear Club

Henry likes water. A lot. Even if it's very cold water. With ice on it. 

We watched him gingerly step on the ice until he could get into the creek. This water is snow melt from high in the mountains.

Henry hangs out in it for quite awhile, sniffing around, investigating the ice formations.

He tries to eat some ice. The longer I watch him, the colder I get.

I've never tried to enter the Polar Bear Club--I wonder if watching Henry gets me any points?

Other Worlds

Did you have a good night celebrating the end of 2008 and beginning of 2009? Perhaps things don't look quite like they should.

Is it you? Or are aliens invading the earth and getting ready to take over in 2009?

Wishing you a wonderful 2009!

And when you see the moon, wherever you are, you know that we are all connected in some shape or form. 

Goodbye 2008

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Looking for the Model Cow

I was hangin' out with the cows the other day and decided to take a closer look at them. Which one would be my model cow? 

I had my requirements:

-a cow that wouldn't run away from me

-a cow that showed some personality

-a cow not afraid to grace my blog.

A couple early contenders are shown in the picture above, but they didn't stick around, so I had to search for another cow to be my model. I looked and looked, and then I found her.

Number 69, with broad shoulders, a shapely figure, wide set eyes, a pierced ear, interesting facial striping, a warm nose, and to top it all off, a little frozen drool on her whiskers. How could I resist?

Number 69 struck a pose, and I snapped away. The Brooding Look.

The Don't Mess with Me Look.

Yikes, here's number 142 trying to steal away the attention with a come hither expression as she wags her tongue.

 
But I won't sway, I'm back to Number 69, with that drool dripping down further.

She prefers being photographed from this side. It makes her eyelashes look longer.

An Old Homestead

There's something about a coating of snow that makes everything look old romantic, even an old, abandoned homestead like this one. We have a number of abandoned houses in the area, mainly due to a change in the culture. 

In 1900, about 39 percent of the American population was involved in agriculture. In 1945, that number had fallen to about 17 percent. In 2000, only one percent of the American population farmed. This dramatic decrease in the farming population is mirrored by a decrease in the rural population, from 60 percent in 1900 to 21 percent in 2000. Although this huge transformation meant many people left rural areas for urban and suburban abodes, many of their homes were left behind.

Over time I'll feature some of these abandoned buildings and look at some of the architectural styles of them. This particular style is common around here, a square house with a door in the middle of the front. It usually had a living room, dining room/kitchen, and two bedrooms. Running water was not available when the house was built, so an outhouse is out back. Many houses of this type have an addition in the back or on the side for a bathroom and more modern kitchen. Because refrigeration also was not available, a root cellar is nearby, along with assorted outbuildings. It's fun to imagine what life was like in these old buildings when they were occupied by vibrant families busy with their day-to-day activities.

Desert Boy's New Fashion Statement

I like to have light-hearted posts on Sunday reflecting family fun, and Desert Boy sure cooperated this time. He's developing more of a fashion sense, despite his flyaway hair.

He pulled on some cowboy boots and wanted his "monkey on his back" put on. But something was missing, and he went in search of it--his hat.

This isn't any old hat, it's his Fire Chief hat. I mean, what else would you want to wear with your glow-in-the dark backhoe pajamas, cowboy boots, and monkey leash?

He was totally confident in his fashion statement.

He even modeled the back so we could get the full effect.

And then it was time to get to work in his outfit--reading. What a good boy.

Pinyon Jays

I noticed a flash of blue out the living room window yesterday morning and found a bright pinyon jay livening up the evergreen foliage. Pinyon jays usually travel in flocks, and sure enough, as I watched I saw many more pinyon jays. These flocks can consist of up to 500 pinyon jays, and many jays stay in the same flocks for their entire lives. Pinyon jays are only found in the western United States.

These social birds eat pine seeds, and they don't have any feathers at the base of their bills. This enables them to poke their bills deep into pine cones and not get any annoying sap on themselves. Each pinyon jay collects thousands of pine seeds each year, caching and remembering where they are for later months. They have such good memories they can even find the seeds under snow. If only I could remember where I put things around the house!

Weighing Calves

It's that time of year to weigh the calves and see if they've put on enough weight. Our ranch raises calves until they're about 850 pounds, and then they're sold to a buyer who will finish them, or raise them until they're between 1,200 and 1,300 pounds. Because we live in such an isolated area, it's not economically feasible to finish and ship cows from here. 

First the cowboys gathered up the calves and herded them into holding pens. Then about 50 at a time were send to the scale.

Here's our oldest cowboy, Lee, working on the frigid morning. Not even cold weather keeps him away from rolling out of bed at 89 years and getting his horse ready to work calves.

And here's my sweet-faced nephew Ryan holding the gate open. He probably wouldn't like me calling him sweet-faced, seeing as how he's a college man now. You can see it's cold by all the layers he's wearing, including his thick green hoodie, work jacket, and warm wool cap with ear flaps. Those ear flaps are really nice, they keep your ears nice and cozy.

The calves run past my hiding spot and towards the scale.

The cowboys make sure none run in a different direction. The scale is huge, it weighs semis with trailers full of hay. Once all the calves are on the scale, they close the gate.

Then my brother-in-law Dave goes into the scale house to weigh the load of calves.

It's an old Howe scale, 1930s vintage, and it still works great today. The state Scales and Measures comes out and inspects it every year.

Then it's time for the calves to get off the scale and go to the next holding pen. My brother-in-law Tom tells the calves where to go. (And they actually listen!)

Once a few calves lead the way, the rest are ready to follow.

He's carefully counting as they go by, as are other cowboys. It's important to know how many calves are in each load so the total weight can be divided by the number of calves, and the average weight per calf calculated. On this particular day, the average weight was about 800 pounds.

Here's Kate, ready for the weighing to conclude so she can help move the calves back to the area they came from.

This horse was particularly friendly and let Desert Boy pet her quite a bit.

After the last load of calves has been weighed, Lee and Ryan come out, along with border collie Heidi, and they are all ready to move calves. My husband told me in advance where the next good camera angle would be, so Desert Boy and I started walking in that direction.

Only Desert Boy found a distraction and took off at a run towards this John Deere tractor.

I don't help him climb up--I figure if he wants to get in the tractor bad enough, he'll figure out a way. And he did.

Getting up on the driver's seat was a little tough, but he was determined.

What are you looking at, Mom? Of course I can drive this big tractor even though my feet don't reach the pedals and I'm really bad at steering.
Our little detour didn't let me get in a great spot for photos, but I did manage this one with Lee herding the calves on the other side of the equipment yard fence.

And a few minutes later, all the cowboys were heading back to the trucks, mission accomplished. They know the calves need to eat for a few more weeks before they'll be leaving us. At this stage, they're gaining about four to five pounds a day. I mean the calves, not the cowboys, although hopefully they all had big holiday dinners!