The picture below is our view when we step out the front door and look to the north. Some days I am looking for the dust coming down the road to let me know my crew is close to home. Sometimes I’m looking for headlights because the daylight is long gone. Looking for headlights didn’t work very good for a poem. I’ll stick to looking for the dust.
Lookin-for-the-dustCategory: Original Cowboy Poetry
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
The proverb, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is true in the case of what surrounds us in the high desert – sagebrush and old wood.
Not everyone sees sagebrush as a beautiful plant, but we do. We like the smell of sagebrush. We like the intricate detail of the plant enough to buy jewelry that looks like sagebrush! (www.josienash.com makes beautiful sagebrush jewelry) We like the unique silvery green color of the plant. Maybe I wouldn’t find beauty in sagebrush if I was pioneer trekking across the high desert day in and day out. Maybe I wouldn’t find beauty in sagebrush if I grew up by the ocean. Maybe I wouldn’t find beauty in sagebrush if lived on the plains. An Ian Tyson song, Roll on Owyhee, describes vast amounts of sagebrush as the “sagebrush sea.” We choose to find beauty in our sagebrush sea!
To me, old wood is something that seems to go hand in hand with sagebrush. If you see some old wood, generally there will be sagebrush close by or it could be intertwined with the wood. Of course old wood isn’t as abundant on the desert as the sagebrush. Some people don’t find beauty in old wood either because, well, it’s OLD! To the modern eye, only weathered, deteriorating wood can be seen. To our desert eyes, I know there is always a story behind the wood, what it built and its use. Sagebrush and old wood make a great team. They hold the secrets of the desert and stories of days gone by.
If you ever drive through Nevada, I hope you will look at the sagebrush sea with fresh eyes. To us it is part of our home and we find beauty in it.
I wrote this short poem about old wood and sagebrush- the desert duo.
DESERT DUO
Old wood and sagebrush,
Go together like teeth and a toothbrush.
Kings of the desert they rule,
Standing together acting rustic and cool.
Take hold of the weathered, old wood,
Transport yourself back in time if you could.
Inhale the pungent, sweet sagebrush smell.
Linger, don’t leave, the scent seems to tell.
Old wood and sagebrush are the perfect pair.
Growing old together in the wide, open air.
For all the Meals I’ve Cooked
Ranch wives cook a lot. I will have extra people at my table (besides my family) about three times a week, on average. Maybe someone stops in to talk and they stay for dinner. Maybe we have to start the day earlier than normal and Jeffrey invites another cowboy to join us for breakfast.
Cowboys who come and help another ranch for just the day are called day workers. The ranching tradition is to feed your day workers. I will usually do a lunch for them and sometimes dinner.
Meal planning for potential extra visitors and having a good idea of what you can whip up on short notice is helpful.
This poem is for the ladies who cook meals for crews and random ranch visitors. The ranch house kitchen is the diner, deli, and bakery.
You may not get a trophy for all the meals you cook, but this poem is dedicated to you.
For-all-the-meals-Ive-cookedCowboys and White Shirts
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Cowboys and white shirts. They go together like Wranglers and boots. My husband and boys all like to wear white shirts when they are working. Maybe they are cooler to work in. Maybe they look cooler wearing them. I’d say it’s a cool cowboy thing.
Here is a poem for all the cowboys who like to wear a white shirt.
Cowboys-and-White-Shirts-2Jeffrey is particular about his white shirts and how they fit. He is a big guy and he likes room in his shoulders and sleeves that don’t feel short. He gets his Wrangler white shirts with a subtle stripe from Amazon. The XXLT are a great fit for him and all the work he does every day on the ranch.
Can You Tell Me a Story?
Occasionally, we find old homesteads on the ranch. I wish they could talk.
I know families lived and loved there.
I know they celebrated birthdays and holidays.
I know they did things simpler and maybe it was better.
It is amazing what happens to a house over time when there are no people living in it and taking care of it.
I know each homestead has a story. I wish they could tell me their story.
Can-you-tell-me-a-story