Every Once In A While….

You hear a song or a sound that takes you back in time…maybe its a visual image that takes you back to the memories you hold dear in your heart…

Not long ago, I was looking out my kitchen window…

doing lunch dishes and I saw a pick up and stock trailer go by…

Wondered who it was and if they were moving cows…

And then I saw something big come around what we call the big corner, about a half of mile from our house, and another something big followed it around the corner and another and another and another…five semi cattle trucks!

Oh be still my heart…

I was immediately transported back in time…old memories of cattle trucks on their way here, either delivering cows or picking them up…and I so miss it!

I have not seen five cattle trucks come rumbling around that corner since the old Juniper T days when my dad and his brothers ran 800 head of Black Angus mama cows…and it took my mind back to old sounds and good memories…

When I lived on the winter cattle ranch…as June 1st dawned, the first truck came over the first hill with full lights on and dip down into the next hill while the second truck bobbed into sight on the first hill and so on until they all lined up in front of my house.

Lined up and ready to load in the early morning dawn, as one by one they left loaded full of cows, heading for the summer range in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Oregon…

I grew up in those mountains gathering cattle with my dad and also on the winter ranch. We had around 25,000 acres on each ranch…the last summer we were on the big ranch was 1979. In 1980 we began raising 200 head of steers on mountain pasture that we kept until 1992.

That’s when Wild Bill and I hired out to manage cattle ranches with many an adventure on the two large cattle ranches we managed…going from Central Oregon, 35 miles out of Prineville, on the Crooked River. close to Post, Oregon. Draw an X through Oregon and the middle of it is Post, Oregon….post office, store and bar.

And then on to Pinedale, Wyoming where we ran cattle on the high desert close to South Pass during spring months and then moved them to the summer range up behind Yellowstone.

I was one lucky cowgirl that I was an only child as Dad took me everywhere with him to work cows, gather cows, salt cows, fence and develop mountain springs…we often traveled 20 to 30 miles horseback gathering cattle and moving them to new pastures all summer long…we would leave at first light, with frosty dew still on the ground, riding out a few crow hops to wake us up and return home at dusk…horses were tired and we were tired…mom was waiting with a hot meal and a hug…it was a life not many know.

We lived on the outside of civilization…no electricity, no telephone, no people, no TV or radio, no newspapers or mail delivered, no running water…our life was simple. During the busy times, we had lots of help with dad’s family, my uncles and cousins would come to help gather cows or in the early years help fence those 25,000 acres as it was not fenced…the first ten years dad had a fencing crew busy fencing, while we rode for cows…I think we had the better deal:)

I miss riding and gathering cows with my dad and our dogs, the one in the picture is Blue…Dad’s on Bucky, she was one of my high school horses and she loved to crow hop first thing…then she settled and all was fine. Every day we had a new adventure riding out early to check cows and babies, making sure the springs were all working and moving cattle to new areas with better grass…we both loved the cattle and the horses…our hearts beat the same with the cowboy life, loving what we were doing!

Seeing those cattle trucks brought tears to my heart as I remembered the old days…where time stands still.

I watched each truck drive by the ranch…disappearing down the canyon…as those old memories flashed in my mind.

I wanted to walk down to the barn and see the brand inspector, the cattle buyer, if we were selling and most importantly my dad…waiting on me to grab my horse, to help him sort cows.

By the time we had kids, the big cattle ranch I grew up on was gone…unfortunately, our kids did not learn to ride horseback or to gather cattle on the mountain or winter ranch.

Funny how those trucks took me back to old times…back to good memories…how I remember and how I miss it…be still my heart!

Now where is my kleenex! Darn It!

Let ‘er Buck!

Let ‘er Buck 2016!

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The Pendleton Round Up Rodeo is off and running!

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Once again its time to Boot Scoot BOOGIE!

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Its time to Rock…

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And Roll!

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Gotta love those pick up guys who get you off your Wild Ride:)

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Yup…rodeo week is here…its that time of year when you can join in and see people you only see once a year…its a time to celebrate the end of harvest and its time for a rodeo that is rich in heritage…steeped in tradition and full of history…in this small town they call Pendleton.

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Son Greg is following in the footsteps of those who went before him…

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His dad, WB, and my dad, his grandfather, by working in the arena during the rodeo…

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A big job to fill as our arena guys are in charge of fences, unexpected wrecks, livestock with lots of unforeseen issues…

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They work hard to keep the livestock safe and everyone else safe as well as themselves. Photo above is of son Greg going airborne last year…he was banged up but ok!

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Round Up is an amazing week…we all volunteer one way or another…we all grumble that it is too crowded and well grumble grumble grumble…we should leave town for the week…

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Round Up becomes a part of who you are when you grow up here…its in your heart…its in your blood and each year you swear this is the last year but…it calls your heart back home and thats what it’s all about…along with amazing cowboys and cowgirls who get out there and live it by working hard and playing tough!

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And thats it…I’ve lived here forever and like a moth drawn to the flame…I’m home!

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Rock on Pendleton with the Rhythm of Round Up…and Let ‘er Buck!

Golden Dreams Call….

Golden dreams call to me, as the old clock with its steady tick tick tick lulls me to sleep….

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I smile as I remember visiting my Grandma each summer with Mom…

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I loved hearing Grandma’s clock chime on the hour and on the half…ticking its tock, counting the precious seconds in our families lives, for well over a 100 years now. Just think if that clock could talk!

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Mom used to set the time ahead when she had to practice piano as a little girl growing up, in a much different world than today.

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I rest in God’s grace and His quiet peace…as the old memories wash over me.

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The crickets came back early this year with their nightly serenade singing me to sleep…drifting off to la la land:)

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Life is ever changing…we all seem to live our lives dancing as fast as we can…

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And I love the dance but, I do remember a simpler time. How about you?

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Wishing you a “Blessed Easter” week!

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 “May you feel His Presence…and know His Peace…For He Has Risen!”

HRCG over and out for now….

Happy New Years…2016 Has Arrived!

Happy New Years!

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I hope your brand new year takes you on glorious adventures, full of fun and joy with many blessings on you and your family…and on your life!

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This morning as I looked out on a brand new year, I thought of my Great Grandmother Anne Marie looking out the same kitchen window at the same view wondering how she felt on a brand new year here in the 1920’s.

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Was she like me…did she wonder a bit with a tad bit of worry…but with a hopeful heart…did she embrace life here?

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I thought of my Mom looking out the same kitchen window and wondering what the brand new year would mean to her and to her hubby and of course her ding-dong daughter as she became a teenager…did she smile or did she feel like time was speeding by too fast.

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With every year that I live here, I appreciate my heritage, the memories…both sad and happy and I know but I know God has me in His hand.

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We are not to spend time looking back on what was or what could have been…we are to move forward and onward, living each day one at a time…its hard to do, but when we let go of the past, life flows forward with good stuff…if we trust that it will…it does!

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A new year brings a fair amount of creative wonderment of what we could do and what we will do…

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I pray this year will be fruitful, with great blessings on our lives filled with joy.

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If I begin to worry about whats ahead this new year I hear my favorite scripture…and God speaking to me saying, now remember cowgirl, you are to trust Me!

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“For I know the plans I have for you “declares the Lord” plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future, then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

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Amen! I can attest that this is very very true!

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May 2016 be a year of great blessings in your life…may it be filled with joy, laughter, hope always and love…may it be a year you will see your dreams come true!

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HRCG and her gang are over and out for now but never for long:)

Remembering My Dad…

Remembering my Dad!

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I’m a bit late in posting this, as I was nursing WB last September with his recovery from surgery a few days before the article below was in our local paper…read the 50 Years Ago in the Days Gone By below.

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50 years ago may seem like a long time ago but, vivid memories rush back to me of Round Up and my Dad!

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Dad was the President of the Round Up when he turned 50 on September 17, 1964 during the second day of the rodeo…and he was pleasantly surprised with a birthday cake in the picture above.

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He loved Round Up week as it was the one week a year he took for his vacation from the cattle ranch…

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Dad was inducted into the Hall Of Fame in 1990…he was known by the cowboys as the “Cowboy President”…

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Dad lived with a fused knee or stiff leg from a football injury during his senior year of high school…they didn’t have penicillin back then. Instead he was in a body/leg cast for a year in a hospital in Portland, OR. Without penicillin, they operated on his leg several times that year to literally scrape the infection off his leg bone.

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He lived his entire life with sepsis knowing it could flare up unexpectedly anytime. Mom gave him penicillin shots to stop the infection…but often he ended up in the hospital, where he fought it like a pro football player that was MAD! Dad wanted to live his life fully with Mom and I, he fought hard for that!

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Dad on my mare Lottie in 1986, he was Grand Marshall of the Westward Ho parade. I spent the summer riding Lottie every night out into the hills around the ranch with the serape you see on Lottie’s hind end. We ran and loped with that serape flapping on her flanks for months…didn’t want any spooks on parade day!

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Dad never ever complained to me about his life…I never realized he was handicapped with his leg until I was in my 30’s…he did everything in life…riding for cows in mountainous country…roping calves, swinging down off his horse and moving as fast as he could in local rodeos…he was my hero…Mom was my second hero!

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I grew up riding behind Dad in the mountains…I can still see his right elbow on his hip riding along with me behind him…

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He was focused on the cows but he always kept an eye on me to be sure I was safe. In time I was trusted with going off and gathering on my own. But Dad knew where and what and how long it should take me. Our summer cattle range was 25,000 mountainous acres.

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Dad, in his element…on his mare Gypsy in the Pendleton Round Up arena.

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And me in my element with the life I grew up in and still love today!

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Dad was the real deal…I thought of him as John Wayne, he did things with honor and with truth…he worked hard in his life, not allowing his leg to get in the way…he taught me to be tough, by never giving up!

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Family honor and family respect…being honest, no lies was the only way to live life in Dad’s book…and forever seeking the best for others and not yourself.

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When Dad stepped into heaven on October 9, 1997…I saddled up in “Dad’s” saddle a few days later…

And rode out into Dad’s homeland…

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I am thankful for all that my Dad taught me…

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With life and wisdom…

 I miss you forever and love you for always Dad…and I will always be your cowgirl daughter:)

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Let ‘er Buck Pendleton!

Life Decades…Life Dreams…Life Goes On.

Life decades…life dreams…life…life goes on.

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I suppose wisdom is good with age…I like the wisdom but not thrilled about the age.

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I miss the old days of life…sitting a saddle everyday on a horse, looking and gathering cattle…doing what I know, that is as natural as breathing to me.

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Feeling mother nature on my face as she bathes me with her skies, and the beauty all around me…full of God’s glory.

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And the smell of a horse under you…together we are a team…hearts are joined.

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A quick summer shower that was enough to cool you off and the warmth of the sun above on my face…

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And the cattle…mooing…snapping brush and twigs as they try to out maneuver you…softly mooing for their babies as the dogs nip a few heels…the herd bellows a bit while moving out with you and your horse.

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I miss cowgirling… I miss the long days in the saddle and the short nights before you got up and did it all over again.

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I miss the mountain smells of pines, different grasses that drifts in the breeze…the smell of horses and cows…the sound of the creek gurgling on a hot afternoon…and the smell of mud as mountain mud is different…I loved the mountains…I loved the smells and the sounds of living on a cattle ranch.

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I loved the isolation…the hard work we did together…the incredible scenery…and cowboying with my hubby…we were hauling water to cows on a warm summer night in this photo.

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Never a dull moment as each day brought new adventures…

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You never knew from day-to-day what you would see and experience!

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At day’s end, once you tucked yourself into bed snug as a bug, drifting off to sleep,

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Snapshots of life would roam through your head as you dreamed of tomorrow’s life on a cattle ranch.

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Wishing You A Fun Funny Friday Full Of Fantastically Fabulous Follies!

Spaghetti Sauce And Life!

Spaghetti sauce and life!

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What a weird combination for a blog entry…but it is so me!

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I was adding a dab of this and a dab of that as I made our families secret spaghetti sauce…and I had one of those flash bulb epiphanies about life.

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How we choose to live our individual life with a few dabs of this and a few dabs of that, makes us unique individuals…that is how my spaghetti sauce is made…full of dabs of this and dabs of that!

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How we live our life…and we do what works best. And in my case…horses…cats…dogs…cooking…our business….my photography and writing etc. as it will work with our love and our forever commitment.

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I learned to cook from my Mom who was a ranchers wife and always lived out in the middle of nowhere…and me too…I have never had the experience of living in a city…my grocery store has always been 20 miles away and a few times 40 to a 100 miles away…all of them one way…so you make do and you add a bit of this and a bit of that…and pray hard that it turns out ok:)

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Isn’t that life? We do life and we fail and we try harder and we stumble, we get back up and shake off the dust…and focus and on we go.

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Is there a set pattern we can give to others? I hope so as I have been very open with my “not perfect life”

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Each of us has been designed and made by God and here is another epiphany…God does not make mistakes.

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If we live our life differently, in our own unique way, like my spaghetti sauce, we will learn what works and what doesn’t.

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My life is in the country making do with what I have on hand as town is too far away…and my spaghetti sauce turns out perfecta!

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May you be blessed this new week in February…as a month from now we will be closer to Spring:)

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Yee-Haw, Spring is coming! Over and Out from HRCG

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