Cowboy Regalia

In keeping with Queen Elizabeth’s Jubilee media blitz, I thought I’d share the American Cowboy version of regalia.

A cowboy’s rope, chinks, saddle, saddle blanket, boots, spurs, hat, conchos and so on are his version of regalia.

Andre the Giant

Meet Andre the Giant!  He was born on Tuesday night to Cow #5187 and weighs over 100 lbs.

His momma ran away for a day after giving birth so we loaded him up and took him home for a bottle.

Momma was located and they are now back together.  Both are adjusting well.

Sheesh, I’m pretty sure I would’ve run away for a while after trying to give birth to a baby this big, too!

Saddle up

To the untrained eye, it looks like a cowboy is getting ready to ride.  Well, that’s true.  Cody is getting ready to move cattle in this photo.

But, nothing about how a cowboy prepares to ride is left to chance.  From the bit he chooses for today’s work to the direction his rope honda faces when tied to the saddle or how tight he pulls his cinch, it’s all a carefully organized process.

Each cowboy is different and has his own way to saddle up.

Hospital corners

Surely you have at least one thing in which you are particular.

My list is long but a clean sink, perfectly tucked corners on the bedding and an organized desk are tops.  My husband has three:

1.  His closet.

2.  His saddle.

3.  The Christmas tree decorations.

As I write this, he has officially spent one hour and 15 minutes arranging ornaments.  It’s our annual tradition.  I put the tree up and place the decorations randomly then he swoops in and begins arranging the decorations.

Everything has a place and it sometimes takes two or three tries before he is happy with the placement.

I usually watch for a while before I start checking the beds for perfect hospital corners.

© Janice Morrow, RealRanchWife and Morrow Family Ranch, 2011.


A sight for sore…

It appears the bulls have earned their keep this year.

This is Lugnut. Not all the bulls get a name on the ranch but he has found a special place in our hearts.

The cows are checking well above 90%.  In cowboy language, that’s damn good. It means that almost every single cow on the ranch will have a baby in the spring.

Have you ever seen a preg check in action?  It’s quite a sight for sore something and I’m not talking eyes.  But, these girls don’t seem to mind.  It’s all in a day’s work.

Boot Boneyard

Another pair of boots has gone to boot heaven.

My cowboy has gone through a lot of boots in the last 16 years.  They go from good for special occasions, to good for going to town, then finally to good enough to work in.

But, this probably doesn’t compare to dozens of shoes I’ve been through in the same amount of time.  The difference is that his are usually totally worn out.  Mine are probably less worn out than out of style.

A few of my current favorites!

Cowboy boots never go out of style.  Even when they are totally worn out they still look cool.  The history of cowboy boots dates back to the days after the civil war when traditional boots were found to be uncomfortable during long rides.

These custom beauties are made by Lisa Sorrell, I saw a PBS special on her work which made me want to visit for my own pair. This coming from the girl who doesn't usually wear boots.

My cowboy announced his current work pair was no longer comfortable.  He wondered if we should resole them or send them to the cowboy boot boneyard.

We’ve resoled many.  This pair doesn’t look like the leather can withstand another fix. So, go in peace old friends.  Go in peace.

This boot boneyard is in Portales, NM at a friend's arena.

Lost things

Surely you remember the bag phone, right?

In college, I didn’t know anyone with a cell phone except my cowboy. He was on the bag phone bandwagon before anyone, an early adopter.  Like his father, he loves to talk on the phone.  To listen to this end of a conversation with his brother sometimes sounds like a Seinfeld episode, very funny but often a conversation about nothing.

5 a.m. and on the horn.

He’s been through many phones since.  Last February, he finally upgraded to the newest Droid phone on the market.  That phone is his everything–phone, social network, words with friends, notepad for jotting cattle numbers and other relevant information, jukebox, GPS, etc.

It’s lost in a pasture and he is having withdrawals. I finally handed my cell over to him so he doesn’t feel disconnected.

By the way, the phone is not in the same pasture as the lost iPod.  It’s not in the same pasture as a lost bridle. It’s not in the same pasture as a lost set of reins.  I wonder what those who come after us will say about the lost things they will find?

I wonder if they will laugh at the sight of the Droid and iPod as I laugh at the sight of a bag phone?