The two spike bucks dramatically walked onto the stage from opposite sides of the back pasture. Youthful in years, genetically deprived of forked horns, but with obvious false male pride as to their place in nature.
In constrast, the two year old doe demurely meandered beneath the acorn laden oaks of the Tin Star Ranch busily preparing simultaneously for winter and the inevitable conception of her next fawn.
Survival of the fittest dictates that only the strong may create progeny. Accordingly, the battle to come would surely tilt fate in one manner or the other.
Spying one another, the combatants jauntingly pranced about in visual displays of their supposed prowess...to equally intimidate their opponent while wooing the potential mate (who continued to munch protein with complete disinterest).
In spite of their diminuitive headwear, the would-be suitors met face to face for the initiative staring match.
Next came pawing at the ground in the manner of bullring toros psyching to banish the toreador.
Without warning, both charged at full tilt, simultaneouly locking potentially impaling spikes while furiously churning their legs in a symphonic choreographed dance of desire.
....and they repeated their gentically programmed masculine machismo until the object of their "affection" silently retreated into the nearby brush.
Living on the ranch has a lot of perks, but ya gotta shake your head at times regarding the similarities between males of all species?
Friday, October 19, 2012
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Spuddin'
The ole fat boy spent four hours on his Miller 140 wire welder today spuddin' together a project for a friend.
Gotta say there ain't nuthin like doing something that so totally absorbs your interest that your forget everything else in the world exists.
Weren't nuthin fancy. Was not done in an A-1 professional manner. But...dang it's a hoot to take a pile of steel, do a dab of fabrication, and "stick" it together in a manner that is a meaningful end result.
Wouldn't it be cool if every job we have ever done in our lives would meet those simple criteria: fun, interesting, meaningful?
Gotta say there ain't nuthin like doing something that so totally absorbs your interest that your forget everything else in the world exists.
Weren't nuthin fancy. Was not done in an A-1 professional manner. But...dang it's a hoot to take a pile of steel, do a dab of fabrication, and "stick" it together in a manner that is a meaningful end result.
Wouldn't it be cool if every job we have ever done in our lives would meet those simple criteria: fun, interesting, meaningful?
Friday, October 12, 2012
Wright City Sinner
The ranch hand seems to have unwittingly developed an avocation that was neither planned nor expected.
Since retiring a year ago, your humble scribe has been asked to "preach" three funerals for unrelated folks...including one today?
Is the ole fat boy an eloquent speaker. Nope. Is this red-neck Wright City hick purty to look at. Never.
In the book of John, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6). Given that "a calling" is God's personal, individual invitation to carry out the unique task he has for you, how could our Savior view a sinner needy of daily forgiveness a fitting messenger to the bereaved?
The ranch hand acknowledges that God equips each of us with unique spiritual gifts to help us in our "callings".
Romans 12:6-8 tells us that "We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully."
Acts 16:9-10 tells us that the Apostle Paul saw a vision that "called" him to preach the gospel.
Ain't seen no visions, but have certainly feel a "call" on occasion to try to comfort the mere mortals who remain after their loved ones pass on to Glory.
All ya'll pray for this poor sinner to do the right thing, every time, every day.
Since retiring a year ago, your humble scribe has been asked to "preach" three funerals for unrelated folks...including one today?
Is the ole fat boy an eloquent speaker. Nope. Is this red-neck Wright City hick purty to look at. Never.
In the book of John, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6). Given that "a calling" is God's personal, individual invitation to carry out the unique task he has for you, how could our Savior view a sinner needy of daily forgiveness a fitting messenger to the bereaved?
The ranch hand acknowledges that God equips each of us with unique spiritual gifts to help us in our "callings".
Romans 12:6-8 tells us that "We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully."
Acts 16:9-10 tells us that the Apostle Paul saw a vision that "called" him to preach the gospel.
Ain't seen no visions, but have certainly feel a "call" on occasion to try to comfort the mere mortals who remain after their loved ones pass on to Glory.
All ya'll pray for this poor sinner to do the right thing, every time, every day.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
ROJITO
Daddy Gene always said, "poor people have poor ways". Mostly, he meant that when facing a need, Wright City folk had to figger out a solution that did not involve money.
Gene called them solutions "managing". Takin' what you had and forging a resolution that got the job done. In truth, he was a master at this "art" as he was something of an inventor and as handy as a pocket on a shirt when it came to "fixin" stuff.
The old ranch hand inherited that ethic and has tried to emulate Daddy's ways. Often a quicker, easier solution would be to pay someone else to fix something, but the image of Daddy "watchin" always loomed in the background.
A case in point involves the ranch riding mower. That puppy has been a trojan of a workhouse performing hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of service without complaint.
Course, like your humble scribe, Rojito (as I call the red machine) has started to wear out one piece at a time.
The routine has become to mow a time or two....and then tear it all apart to replace broken/worn parts....mow a time or two...repeat above (over and over)????
The book of Romans (12:12) tells us, "Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction, faithful in prayer".
Lord, I know you have noted my "faithful prayer" to give me more "patience", but after today that damn mower is wearing my butt out with its breaking down "affliction".
Gene called them solutions "managing". Takin' what you had and forging a resolution that got the job done. In truth, he was a master at this "art" as he was something of an inventor and as handy as a pocket on a shirt when it came to "fixin" stuff.
The old ranch hand inherited that ethic and has tried to emulate Daddy's ways. Often a quicker, easier solution would be to pay someone else to fix something, but the image of Daddy "watchin" always loomed in the background.
A case in point involves the ranch riding mower. That puppy has been a trojan of a workhouse performing hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of service without complaint.
Course, like your humble scribe, Rojito (as I call the red machine) has started to wear out one piece at a time.
The routine has become to mow a time or two....and then tear it all apart to replace broken/worn parts....mow a time or two...repeat above (over and over)????
The book of Romans (12:12) tells us, "Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction, faithful in prayer".
Lord, I know you have noted my "faithful prayer" to give me more "patience", but after today that damn mower is wearing my butt out with its breaking down "affliction".
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Lakota Prophecy
A white buffalo is considered sacred in several Native American Indian religions.
A Lakota prophecy goes that the birth of a white buffalo would be a sign that the time had come for the world to be purified – harmony, balance, respect among people and respect for the earth. (whitebuffaloprophecy.com)
The ole ranch hand has ultimate respect for the Creator and the beliefs of the ancients....while simultaneously sharing the belief of my friend "T" that the Almighty has a sense of humor that includes "jus' playin'" with us at times?
This last sunrise dawned clear with the promise of the fall to come and its hint of autumnal treasures. Not to be false in seasonal intentions, the ironic nature of our humble ranch land once again "smirked".
Looking out the bunkhouse to the back pasture, the fat boy spied eight Rio Grande turkeys sauntering about with their heads down bobbing and tails in the air in a clucking foraging choreography.
Lo and behold, a lone ubiquitous avian soul sported traditional foliage from mid-section to crown....while brilliantly displaying bright white plummage on the entire lower half?
Surely our Savior had a "belly" laugh on that one while musing as to the potential interpretations of us mere mortals?
Ya gotta love it!
A Lakota prophecy goes that the birth of a white buffalo would be a sign that the time had come for the world to be purified – harmony, balance, respect among people and respect for the earth. (whitebuffaloprophecy.com)
The ole ranch hand has ultimate respect for the Creator and the beliefs of the ancients....while simultaneously sharing the belief of my friend "T" that the Almighty has a sense of humor that includes "jus' playin'" with us at times?
This last sunrise dawned clear with the promise of the fall to come and its hint of autumnal treasures. Not to be false in seasonal intentions, the ironic nature of our humble ranch land once again "smirked".
Looking out the bunkhouse to the back pasture, the fat boy spied eight Rio Grande turkeys sauntering about with their heads down bobbing and tails in the air in a clucking foraging choreography.
Lo and behold, a lone ubiquitous avian soul sported traditional foliage from mid-section to crown....while brilliantly displaying bright white plummage on the entire lower half?
Surely our Savior had a "belly" laugh on that one while musing as to the potential interpretations of us mere mortals?
Ya gotta love it!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
The Good Life and Other Magic
In Romans, Chapter 14, we are told, "Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgement on disputable matters. One man's faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables"
Be it abruzo, andouille, banger, bowerwurst, boudin, or the ranch hand's venerable Tin Star venison jalapeno/cheese smoked goodness....sausage would likely meet the biblical definition of "One man's faith allows him to eat anything...."?
The word sausage is derived from the Latin word salsus which means something salted. As a historical reference, sausages are mentioned in The Odyssey which was written by Homer more than 2,700 years ago (integratednutrition.com).
Regardless of history, nomenclature, preference, or prejudice, sausage would be one of the ole fat boy's weaknesses.
Tomorrow next, the bride and I will journey to the nearby burg of Thorndale to the meat market to drool over their casing enclosed ground meat goodies.
Right now we be thinking bout ten pounds of lean beef links and a similar pile of pork and jalapeno/cheese hot gut mouth candy.
Fire up the ranch smoker pit early with live oak seasoned for three years, lovingly lay them puppies on the grill with gentle tenderness......and wait for the magic to happen.
Now that is the GOOD LIFE!
Be it abruzo, andouille, banger, bowerwurst, boudin, or the ranch hand's venerable Tin Star venison jalapeno/cheese smoked goodness....sausage would likely meet the biblical definition of "One man's faith allows him to eat anything...."?
The word sausage is derived from the Latin word salsus which means something salted. As a historical reference, sausages are mentioned in The Odyssey which was written by Homer more than 2,700 years ago (integratednutrition.com).
Regardless of history, nomenclature, preference, or prejudice, sausage would be one of the ole fat boy's weaknesses.
Tomorrow next, the bride and I will journey to the nearby burg of Thorndale to the meat market to drool over their casing enclosed ground meat goodies.
Right now we be thinking bout ten pounds of lean beef links and a similar pile of pork and jalapeno/cheese hot gut mouth candy.
Fire up the ranch smoker pit early with live oak seasoned for three years, lovingly lay them puppies on the grill with gentle tenderness......and wait for the magic to happen.
Now that is the GOOD LIFE!
Sunday, September 2, 2012
The Topper
When the ranch hand was near 15 year old, he purchased a .12 gauge single shot shotgun from Papuh (grandfather) for the magnanimous price of $15.
Yeah, it had a metal screw for a front sight...and there was black electrician's tape around the forearm to keep it on the gun...and there were wooden match sticks driven between the tang and the stock to keep the stock from "wigglin", but it was heaven to a Wright City boy wanting to hunt "birds"!
Course, shells was hard to come by. Lester Sala who owned the drug store in Turnertown would sell boys shells in amounts less than a box. Ya had the money for only three bullits...Mr. Sala would cut a deal. (Now imagine how carefully your neophyte "bird" hunter would choose them shots knowing he only had 2 or 3 chances for the day???)
On occasion, an adult would "gift" some shells to a poor country boy. Only thing, ya never knew what the "load" was....the ammo bag would have a mix of bird shot, squirrel shot, buckshot, rifled slugs, or whatever...they was bullits..that's all that mattered to a rural young'un....even if ya splattered a poor hapless varmit with a heavy load while bruising a shoulder?
Many was the time the ole fat boy hoofed it down Rusk County Road 4151 in search of winged quarry with that venerable H&R Topper one hole scatter gun. Dove, quail, and the unfortunate meadowlark (mistaken for a dove/quail) succumbed to the wanna-be Daniel Boones' marksmanship.
Time passed...and now there resides in the ranch gun safe (in addition to the "Topper") guns of considerably greater cost and craftsmanship. This opening weekend of the 2012 dove season opened with yours truly "blastin" down at the pond with one them high dollar twice-hole models...but been thinkin'....
Wouldn't it be cool to dust off Papuh's ole popper and down a dove like the old days...now that would bring back good memories.
Yeah, it had a metal screw for a front sight...and there was black electrician's tape around the forearm to keep it on the gun...and there were wooden match sticks driven between the tang and the stock to keep the stock from "wigglin", but it was heaven to a Wright City boy wanting to hunt "birds"!
Course, shells was hard to come by. Lester Sala who owned the drug store in Turnertown would sell boys shells in amounts less than a box. Ya had the money for only three bullits...Mr. Sala would cut a deal. (Now imagine how carefully your neophyte "bird" hunter would choose them shots knowing he only had 2 or 3 chances for the day???)
On occasion, an adult would "gift" some shells to a poor country boy. Only thing, ya never knew what the "load" was....the ammo bag would have a mix of bird shot, squirrel shot, buckshot, rifled slugs, or whatever...they was bullits..that's all that mattered to a rural young'un....even if ya splattered a poor hapless varmit with a heavy load while bruising a shoulder?
Many was the time the ole fat boy hoofed it down Rusk County Road 4151 in search of winged quarry with that venerable H&R Topper one hole scatter gun. Dove, quail, and the unfortunate meadowlark (mistaken for a dove/quail) succumbed to the wanna-be Daniel Boones' marksmanship.
Time passed...and now there resides in the ranch gun safe (in addition to the "Topper") guns of considerably greater cost and craftsmanship. This opening weekend of the 2012 dove season opened with yours truly "blastin" down at the pond with one them high dollar twice-hole models...but been thinkin'....
Wouldn't it be cool to dust off Papuh's ole popper and down a dove like the old days...now that would bring back good memories.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
GOLDIE OLDIES
Musically, the ole ranch hand is a willing slave to the lyrics of the 60's (high school days).
Never can get enuff of the Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf, Bob Seger, Glen Burt and The Travelers....and the list is long and glorious!
Back in the day, Austin boasted an "oldies" station that "rocked around the clock". Sad was the day when the cretins of the airways pulled the plug on that puppy????
A few years back the fat boy was lamenting the sad state of harmonic affairs to his youngest daughter. Said young'un condescendingly explained that "everyone" knew that station K??? played nuthin but "oldies"!
Joy reigned thruout (until a "test run" revealed that my offspring's "oldies" were from the 80's and 90's)?????
In recent history, your humble scribe "bit the bullit" and got a "smart" phone (easily another embarassing self-deprecating blog in and of itself). Today, your neophyte smart phone dumass downloaded an "app" that will tune in any radio station in the world.
Glory Hallelujah and praise on the highest order!!!!!!
Been bouncing back and forth on OLDIE GOLD nation-wide all afternoon.....life is good!
Never can get enuff of the Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf, Bob Seger, Glen Burt and The Travelers....and the list is long and glorious!
Back in the day, Austin boasted an "oldies" station that "rocked around the clock". Sad was the day when the cretins of the airways pulled the plug on that puppy????
A few years back the fat boy was lamenting the sad state of harmonic affairs to his youngest daughter. Said young'un condescendingly explained that "everyone" knew that station K??? played nuthin but "oldies"!
Joy reigned thruout (until a "test run" revealed that my offspring's "oldies" were from the 80's and 90's)?????
In recent history, your humble scribe "bit the bullit" and got a "smart" phone (easily another embarassing self-deprecating blog in and of itself). Today, your neophyte smart phone dumass downloaded an "app" that will tune in any radio station in the world.
Glory Hallelujah and praise on the highest order!!!!!!
Been bouncing back and forth on OLDIE GOLD nation-wide all afternoon.....life is good!
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Holdin' the Pole
Early spring the ranch hand planted catfish, bream, and bass seedlings in the Tin Star pond and has nursed them puppies since to raise a "crop".
This morn dawned with coolish weather and overcast and just seemed to whisper "fishin" in the fat boy's metaphorical ear.
Weren't nuthin to do but gather up the requisite acquisition devices, harvest a dozen night crawlers, and saunter with the beautiful bride down the path to our angling destiny.
Tasks were quickly assigned:
A. Bride catches all fish while squealing in girlish delight.
B. Ranch hand baits hook, takes fish off, makes appropriate admiring comments about the aforementioned bass pro's prowess (and otherwise stays the hell out of the way?)
The "mission" was launched and in short order our neophyte piscatorialist had landed 20 lively flip floppers of various lineage on the dock.
Don't tell her, but your humble scribe had much more fun watchin' the "show" than he ever could have holding the "pole"!
This morn dawned with coolish weather and overcast and just seemed to whisper "fishin" in the fat boy's metaphorical ear.
Weren't nuthin to do but gather up the requisite acquisition devices, harvest a dozen night crawlers, and saunter with the beautiful bride down the path to our angling destiny.
Tasks were quickly assigned:
A. Bride catches all fish while squealing in girlish delight.
B. Ranch hand baits hook, takes fish off, makes appropriate admiring comments about the aforementioned bass pro's prowess (and otherwise stays the hell out of the way?)
The "mission" was launched and in short order our neophyte piscatorialist had landed 20 lively flip floppers of various lineage on the dock.
Don't tell her, but your humble scribe had much more fun watchin' the "show" than he ever could have holding the "pole"!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Jesus and BBQ
Age teaches some of us that the simple pleasures in life are the best.
The ole ranch hand rose from his bunk bout 5-ish this morn to coax the fragrant aphrodisiac of well seasoned wood to its destiny in the Chuck Wagon meat smoker.
Got the ebony steel puppy's temperature jus' right in the comforting blanket of predawn softness and gentle cool from the eve's righteous rain.....and then laid the hawg ribs with reverence on the "altar" of BBQ worship with appropriate respect and sublimity.
The fat boy has since been sneakin' peeks at the "que" while inhaling the intoxicating aroma of the Tin Star Ranch Live Oak fuel fulfilling its promise of good things to come.
Read a biblical passage recently which stated, "The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thou givest them their meat in due season. Thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
(Psalm 145:15,16)
Ya'll reckon our Lord and Savior was a fan of fancy meat burnin'???
Regardless, your humble scribe is eternally grateful for the privilege of His blessings in the Tin Star Chuck Wagon department!
The ole ranch hand rose from his bunk bout 5-ish this morn to coax the fragrant aphrodisiac of well seasoned wood to its destiny in the Chuck Wagon meat smoker.
Got the ebony steel puppy's temperature jus' right in the comforting blanket of predawn softness and gentle cool from the eve's righteous rain.....and then laid the hawg ribs with reverence on the "altar" of BBQ worship with appropriate respect and sublimity.
The fat boy has since been sneakin' peeks at the "que" while inhaling the intoxicating aroma of the Tin Star Ranch Live Oak fuel fulfilling its promise of good things to come.
Read a biblical passage recently which stated, "The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thou givest them their meat in due season. Thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
(Psalm 145:15,16)
Ya'll reckon our Lord and Savior was a fan of fancy meat burnin'???
Regardless, your humble scribe is eternally grateful for the privilege of His blessings in the Tin Star Chuck Wagon department!
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