Finishing the vacation...

The ranch is a pretty special place to us. 4 or 5 years ago, Shelly's parents worked out a few deals and we now have a little over 500 acres of hill country property. We spend quite a few weekends and holidays there every year, and this year we decided to spend part of our vacation at the ranch. It's nothing fancy, but we do have a serviceable house and a few toys to keep us entertained while there. We also do quite a bit of hunting and hunting related activities there. You will read more about those as the year moves on.

Mark the cowboy...

At the ranch, there are many cows. One of the neighbors leases the grazing rights from us (he happens to be a descendant of the family who previously owned the ranch since the late 1800's). While Shelly, Matthew, and I were out riding the ATV's on Tuesday, we noticed a calf that was laying in the shade away from the herd. I thought there was nothing to it as the calves will usually lay off to the edge of the herd and sometimes seem to get a little distanced as the herd moves and they aren't paying attention. The thought was that the mother would miss it and they would catch back up soon. Well..., Wednesday, we were riding again and the same calf was in the same place, and looking pretty poorly (we thought he was dead at first), but he moved his head a little. We called the cattle owners and a couple of hours later, the husband and wife came out and picked me up to go show them where the calf was. Of course, last week was a week of near record rainfall at the ranch, and when they arrived a hellatious thunderstorm had just started. I put on my raincoat and jumped in the truck. The raincoat did no good. For those familiar with the ranch deal, the spot next to the door in a truck is the spot for the lowest ranking cowboy. This is the guy that has to get out in the rain and open the gate. I was that guy. (sidebar comment - there is an old country song about how to tell who the real cowboy in a truck is. It's the guy in the middle - he doesn't have to drive and he doesn't have to mess with the gate). We found the calf in the same spot I last saw him. The diagnosis was a broken hip. No wonder he couldn't get up and follow the herd. As the 3 of us stood there circled around this poor calf, with a torrential storm soaking us and lightening striking, we were contemplating what to do. I apparently earned the respect of the others and was told I was now a real cowboy. I was assigned the tail. My job was to grab the tail while the others grabbed other parts and we lifted the little guy into the back of the truck. They called a couple of hours later to tell me that the little calf should make it. She had taken a bottle and was looking a little more perky. Who'd a thunk it? Me, a cowboy... Next time I'm sitting in the middle.

Impressive...

Those that know me, know that I sort of never grew up (as evidenced by the short-sheeting and other things previously mentioned). Shelly proves often how special she is to put up with me.

I really enjoy this whole Daddy deal. I must say that I think I'm pretty good at it. Matthew seems to have a decent amount of respect for me and he seems to think I'm like a super hero. Not as big of a hero as Larry Boy (he has those Super Suction Ears), but a super hero of some level nonetheless.

I have taught Matthew many fun things. One of the life truth's is that the passing of gas is a humorous event. A good ripper commands a certain amount of respect from the crowd. Well, one of the things I'm teaching him is that upon passing a good one, those around are to respond by saying "Im-press-ive". He's getting good at it, and according to my friend Katie, extra credit is awarded for the multi-syllable words. Shelly realized how much of a losing battle she is in when we were all 3 laying in bed on our last morning at the ranch and I let a good one go. I said "Impressive", Matthew jubilantly echoed "IM-Pressive!!". Shelly started to protest by saying "No, that's terrible", only to be cut short my Matthew, who corrected with "No, Mommy, Im-Pressive!!" That's my boy. Shelly has threatened to remove her contact information from the daycare file so I will have to be the one to explain the humor in this to his teachers.