We're Home on the Range

After two successful flights, we were again home in Oklahoma.  Thanks to Denisa's sister and brother-in-law for picking us up at the airport and allowing us to crash at their house.  We got to see their family as well as our son and his girl friend, and we managed to stay awake until 10:30 p.m.  One of the best cures for jet lag is to get back into your new time zone as soon as possible.  Fifteen hours difference in time zones can take some major adjustments.

So we headed to Mark's parents' home in the Oklahoma panhandle, where the motor home has been parked for the last month.  We are truly home on the range, where the bulls . . .

and the turkeys roam.

We had lots of roaming turkeys right beside the motor home.  This picture was taken from the living room window, and there are 30 turkeys in the frame.  These are smart turkeys, as they learned how to perch on the fence post and empty out the bird feeders meant for smaller birds.  This flock of turkeys showed up every day, until one week before Thanksgiving.  Then they vanished--another evidence of their intelligence.

Living on the range can be beautiful, and we enjoyed some great sunsets out on the plains of Oklahoma.

But those clouds can bring tornadoes in the Midwest.  That same evening Denisa took a picture of the tall wall clouds emerging in the north.

Unusual in the autumn, these clouds would spawn 13 different tornadoes in our area.  We spent part of the evening in the safe house when they reported a tornado on the ground ten miles away.

Another part of being home on the range is getting to play cowboy.  Here is Mark surveying the first group of calves we were working that morning.  You'll notice the group of mother cows standing behind him making disapproving comments.

Since we were living on the ranch, we helped with rounding up the calves.  This is the first group of cowboys taking off for the morning.  Denisa isn't in this group, but she did ride in the roundup for another pasture later in the day.  Her bowlegged walk the next day was her proof that she hadn't ridden a horse in a while.

Once the herd is in the corral, the calves are sorted out from their mothers.  Then cowboys on horseback rope the back legs and bring the individual calves to the working crew.  There is usually a pair of cowboys that serve as "muggers" to throw the calf into the right position and hold them down.  This is the most physically demanding job, and Mark was a mugger for one pen of calves.  He has the dislocated finger, cockleburs in his hands, and calf poop on his jeans to prove it.

The calves get two shots, an ear notch, and bulls are castrated in a matter of seconds.  Mark is on the right, coming in to give one of the shots.  The muggers have another calf ready to be worked on the left, and a cowboy on horseback is bringing a third calf up.  This is a well-oiled team!

They even let Denisa give shots with another group of calves.  She's in the black coat, trying to keep the needle away from the cowboys and into the calves.

When we worked the herd closest to the house, Mark's parents rode the 4-wheeler into the corral to get a ring-side view of the action.  They have been right in the middle of the action in the corral for most of their lives. Mark is standing beside them, with his injection gun poised and ready.

Denisa liked this picture of two of our nephews and Mark's brother, standing ready for the next calf.  Mark's brother (on the far right) now owns the ranch.  Just like Mark, the two boys have been raised on this ranch, and came home to help with the roundup.

Another day, we went to the sale barn to watch the cattle sell.  In truth, we really came because they were serving a free meal for customer appreciation day.  Mark's brother bought a couple bulls, so there was a customer in our group.  In fact, he used to own the sale barn a few years ago.  We hadn't been to the sale in years, and we thought a picture might be a good addition to the blog.  Denisa took a couple pictures, and the auctioneer suddenly stopped the auction, and announced over his microphone, "Ma'am, did you know there was a $5 fee for taking pictures?"  He quipped that the fee was payable directly to the auctioneer, and he liked cash.  Some times we get ourselves into embarrassing situations for this blog.

After several years of drought, the panhandle has been blessed with good rains this year.  That has brought a bumper crop of tumble weeds that are now blowing freely across the plains this fall.  We had to take a picture of the tumbleweeds filling the bar ditches and even caught on the cap-o-ranch mailbox.

We are enjoying our home on the range, as we settle into life in the central time zone.  It's good to be back in the heartland of the good ole USA.