Baby Blues

Posted on April 13, 2014 by bygeorge

“this isn’t such a bad gig!” . . . .

Nothing will dispel wintertime doldrums like a trip to the feed store in March and April. Baby chicks, ducks and geese arrive and a cacophony of peeps and cheeps greets you as you walk in the door. Tiny fluffy creatures barely a few days old are huddled under the heat lamps napping or racing up and down the cage, scattering wood chips into their water bowls. I purchased a variety of breeds last year and have enjoyed observing the differences in their behavior and variety of colors of their eggs. All eleven hens have become dear pets with distinct personalities and I am hoping they will accept these four new additions once they have reached pullet size and can be placed into the pen with the adults.

This year I chose Araucana for their blue and green eggs, as well as their colorful foliage. Originating in Chile, this breed was created by the Mapuche tribe and is a uniquely tailless bird with feathery tufts covering its earlobes. They will tolerate our cold climate well and won’t mind being confined to a large outdoor pen adjoining the chicken house.

The laundry room is in an uproar, needless to say, and a rabbit cage balanced between the washing machine and the clothes dryer is home until the weather warms and they can be moved into their next home in the calf warmer. Formerly the old bathroom in our house, the laundry room has been remodeled but has housed baby chicks, goslings, calves, piglets, lambs, deer, puppies, kittens and heaven only knows what else our family managed to haul indoors for intensive care since moving here in the 1940’s.

Eeenie, Meenie, Miney and Moe . . . .

Naming these pretty little girls with “official” names will be difficult and will have to wait until they display more physical and behavioral characteristics.

Owl Eyes Upon Us

Posted on March 4, 2014 by bygeorge

“Don’t make any false moves!” . . . .

A pleasantly warm afternoon and signs of a false spring lured us out to clean up some downed tree limbs we have gathered over the past couple of weeks. We were about finished tending two huge bonfires when Rosie started barking at something up in the tree directly overhead. A great horned owl had been staring down at us for the entire time, and seemed unperturbed by our activities. The sight of two large fires and the accompanying smoke should have flushed him out and sent him on his way. We had been dragging limbs from underneath the very tree where he was perched, and he never moved. We sighted another owl as we returned to the house, and are hopeful we have a nesting pair that we can observe through the spring months until their fledglings are able to fly away with them.

“I’ll just keep an eye on him” . . . .

I was able to calm Rosie and get her to agree to quit barking at our visitor. She settled down in the leaves and grass where she could keep an eye on him. We worried that we had created such a disturbance the owl might leave. Since this guy seems determined to hang out, it is likely there is a nest nearby and a female sitting on eggs.

a few thousand left to go . . . .

This is one of 14 piles of tree limbs we have collected over the past two months. Each day on our walk, we stop and drag up a few limbs into a pile along the route. When the piles are so high they become perilous to reach with more limbs, we burn them and start over. A severe ice/snow storm last September brought down enough tree limbs to keep us busy for some time to come. Ranch recreation!

Breakfast Cookies

Posted on February 24, 2014 by bygeorge

for the cookie monsters . . . .

There is no doubt I’ve eaten hundreds of these over my lifetime. These were a favorite cookie that my mother baked and if I ate a few hundred, she must have baked many thousand! Made with old fashioned rolled oats, breakfast cereal, coconut and chopped walnuts, they are packed full of healthy ingredients. How can you go wrong having this cookie for breakfast?

I rediscovered them by chance on an outing last summer. A friend brought a container of them for us to share and the minute I bit into one, I knew it was my mother’s Ranger cookie. When I expounded on the merits of this delicious cookie (and knocked off three of them in no time) my friend graciously agreed to send along a copy of her recipe. In the interim, I was able to locate several speckled and spattered copies of Mom’s note cards with the ingredients she used. When I compared the two recipes, I noted they were exactly alike except for two features: 1) My friend’s recipe was for “School House Ranger Cookies” and called for Corn Flakes; and 2) Mom’s recipe was simply entitled “Ranger Cookies” and she made hers with Rice Krispies.

To be fair to Mom, I made several dozen with the Rice Krispies for a family gathering and they disappeared like I knew they would. I recently baked 10-dozen of them and put them in the freezer. We take out a few at a time, warm them slightly in the microwave and they are heavenly!

Ranger Cookies

1 cup butter

1 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar, packed

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

2 cups flour

1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. soda

2 cups old fashioned rolled oats

2 cups Rice Krispies

1/2 cup coconut

1/2 cup walnuts, chopped

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and sugars. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Sift flour with baking soda, baking powder and salt. Mix in cereal, coconut and nuts. Blend dry ingredients into creamed butter mixture. Roll dough into 1-1/2 inch balls, place on oiled baking sheet. When baked, cookies will be approximately 3″ in diameter. Recipe makes 60 cookies. They store and freeze well.

Winter Blooms

Posted on February 23, 2014 by bygeorge

bathed in sunlight . . . .

Flagging spirits in February call for some relief from the cold and snow outdoors. A trip to a tropical island is not in the cards this winter, so we are making do with some glorious blooms in the window. Three amaryllis bulbs picked up on sale after Christmas have just now bloomed and are in their glory. The first one opened in time for Valentine’s Day and now they are all brightening up our winter gloom with 4-8 large flowers on each stalk–nearly twenty blooms total. Incredible! A bowl of white tulips are coming to life and will bloom in March, and the winter standby, a red geranium that has bloomed several winters, along with leftover poinsettias from Christmas, make for a cheery dining room window seat.

leftover Christmas spirit . . . .

The poinsettias don’t seem to be losing much of their vigor, even though they’ve been around since mid-December.

a riot of red . . . .

Summer or winter, this geranium can be counted on to bloom its heart out and fill a space with cheery, fire-engine red blossoms. It’s a keeper!

pink pales in comparison . . . .

A cyclamen covered in pretty pink “birds” has been blooming for a couple months, and brings so much pleasure to the dark days of winter.

a feline among the flowers . . . . .

Bleu has found a sunny warm spot to enjoy his morning nap. Curled around the flower pot, he seems to think he is well hidden. He opened his eyes just as I snapped his picture and is giving me a look that seems to say “buzz off!”

A Stirring of Starlings

Posted on February 18, 2014 by bygeorge

at the water cooler . . . .

New to the neighborhood over the past month, these starlings have inserted themselves into the daily routine with great effrontery. They arrive in swarms to perch in the poplar patch and watch for an opportunity to snatch some corn from the goose’s feeding trough or, worse yet steal from the chicken feed right inside their little house! To add insult to injury, they sit on the tops of the doors, fences, roof tops and even the propane tank and leave behind their daily poop, which piles up so high I have to take a broom to dislodge it. This is not only disgusting–it is outrageous!

anti-starling device . . . .

The starlings appear to be skittery, flighty birds that take off at any disturbance, so it seemed they might not like something fluttering in the doorway of the chicken house. An old bed sheet cut into strips and stapled to the inside of the doorway became my weapon of mass destruction. The chickens didn’t seem to notice this strange apparition in their entryway and I lurked around behind a tree waiting to see what the starlings would think.

“the ku klux klan is here!” . . . .

The starlings began to collect in the treetops to think about this new development. Having grown fat on free lunch and fresh water each day, they will not be easily deterred. Suggestions started coming in for a backup plan in case the bed sheet trick doesn’t work. I discarded the notions of shooting at them with a shotgun; hanging a fake owl from the garden fence; training Rosie to chase them away by barking loudly whenever they arrive; camping out at the chicken house beating on a tin tub to scare them away or finally, four and twenty starlings “baked in a pie!” All of these ideas became problematic in some fashion to the birds we enjoy having around our feeders all winter.

drink up guys, this one is on me! . . . .

An unplanned emergency trip to the store for more chicken feed, and the resulting hit to my wallet cries out for a full declaration of war! Stay tuned.

Mud Season

Posted on February 17, 2014 by bygeorge

can this mean spring? . . . .

High winds and warming temperatures have turned the ice and snow into muddy soup and pools of water everywhere. After bitter cold and blowing snow, it seems like a step in the right direction, if only there was someplace to step that didn’t entail a slippery mire that is as hard to navigate as the ice it replaces.

long awaited bath . . . .

The geese are in their glory, with pools and puddles in every direction. The lake forming in the creek bottom is an unexpected bonus and they spent the day bathing, preening, swimming and diving–all the things geese love to do!

If the weather turns cold again, as it likely will, these guys will need skates to navigate all the water. They don’t do any better on ice than human critters, and I witnessed a hilarious site as I was bringing them in one evening. They were hurrying along in front of me and hit a patch of snow melt that had frozen into a little pond. It quickly became a flapping frenzy as they slid across on their tails, propelled by wings with feet thrust forward. They floundered and careened, spinning around and bumping into one another until they finally made it to the edge. By this time I was laughing so hard at their plight I could barely stand. If only I had videotaped the scene!

“Hey, this is our little patch of ground!” . . . .

Three little fawns are grazing for leaves and twigs in the poplar patch. The geese have established a beachhead and don’t appear to want to share this coveted piece of ground that is bare of snow. They are all as sick of winter as we are and the fawns look like they could use a good meal.

“We’ll just go nibble sagebrush” . . . .

The geese put up such a flap the fawns moved on. The little one in the middle was orphaned last fall and we have watched him all winter and prayed for his ability to make it through. He is usually alone when we site him, but this day he has joined a pair of twins who have been weaned recently. Warmer weather will arrive soon, and barring any additional hazards (geese not included), they should thrive.

Tilly a.k.a. “Wild Thing”

Posted on January 26, 2014 by bygeorge

“out to play – where is my buddy?” . . . .

Tilly has just come running up the creek bottom from the barn. She goes out to “free range” in the pasture in the mornings and we take her back to the barn in the early evening. She is on a mission to find her good buddy.

“think I’ll just kick up my heels !” . . . . . .

On this particular morning she is full of spit and vinegar. The weather is changing and she responds to change in the atmosphere. Only one hoof is touching ground and I was only able to capture her on her descent back to earth – she wanted to buck and snort a bit to let the world know she has arrived.

“I think I see my buddy!” . . . .

She is headed back down the road after spotting Feed Lot in the bottom grazing on twigs and leaves. She is on her way to “round him up” as she likes him to accompany her on their daily rounds.

“C’mon, let’s go!” . . . .

Typical hungry steer, he is paying little attention to her and has his nose buried in a pile of leaves. He will lose this battle of wills, as usual.

“I will bite you, buddy!” . . . .

Tilly is good at using her teeth to get his attention. Her little “love nips” usually get him moving. If not, she will rear up and wave her front hooves at him, dance around him and push up against him.

“I’ll run circles around you” . . . .

Growing impatient, she races up and down the road and circles him in an effort to get him headed up the lane to visit the neighboring horses. Feed Lot is a bit reluctant to go along with her schemes this morning.

“How can I go play if he won’t come?” . . . .

She is growing impatient and tears off up the road again. Then she stops to think about her next plan of action. If Feed Lot won’t come with her up the road, perhaps she needs to find something else of interest.

“I think I’ll think about it” . . . .

Tilly stands in repose for several minutes, pondering what she wants to do next. She wanders up to the driveway where I am freezing with no coat trying to catch her antics on camera.

“Guess I’ll take a chomp out of this old wagon bed” . . . .

The remains of an ancient wagon rest in the grass adjacent to the driveway. Tilly’s curiosity gets the best of her and she noses and sniffs, finally taking a bite out of the ancient wood.

“Wonder if I can reach that plant inside the fence?” . . . .

A stalk of rabbit ears in the flower garden inside the fence draws her attention. She works hard to try to draw it through the wire so she can have a taste.

“Got an apple for me?” . . . .

Finally, she comes forward to greet me and check to see if I have anything yummy she might like. We don’t feed her treats unless we can drop them in her bucket or feed bunk, but she never fails to check pockets.

“Can we go now?” . . . .

Tilly races off to try once more to get Feed Lot on the move. She is giving him a look that seems pretty clear she means business this time.

“Oh alright already!” . . . .

Tilly gets her man. Feed Lot is resigned to following her up the lane, much against his wishes. A cold wind is blowing and he would prefer to stay down in the trees or better yet, go to the barn and clean up a little bit of last night’s hay.

“We’re off!” . . . .

Up the lane at break neck speed, Tilly leads the way. Feed Lot is resigned to letting her have her way with him and plods up the road behind her. How can he let his good friend down?

This unlikely pair became great pals in November of last year when they were thrown into the corral together as weanlings for a week. They became inseparable, and Feed Lot hangs around outside the barn where Tilly spends her nights. His company keeps her calm and most of the time is a good influence. But not always. He tried to board the horse trailer while I was loading Tilly recently, and it got a bit crowded, to say the least!

Eagle Spotting

Posted on January 12, 2014 by bygeorge

“Any signs of lunch?” . . . .

Eagles are a common sight during the winter months, and a recent outing for the annual eagle count turned up quite a few within a short distance from home. The stately looking pair of mature bald eagles in the photo above were near the highway watching for roadkill. Their traditional food source of fish is unavailable due to frozen streams, so they must improvise.

“There goes the neighborhood, look what blew in!” . . . .

I had just finished photographing the two eagles sitting on fence posts, when a third bald eagle floated in on the gusty winds, accompanied by two large ravens. All this avian excitement must have been due to a dead antelope or deer carcass on the hillside. There was nothing along the highway to draw such interest.

“Prairie dog town in my sights” . . . .

This golden eagle was floating along on the wind near a prairie dog town. The pronounced white markings on his wings indicate he was an immature golden and he was the only one we spotted in the two hours that we searched. We tend to see fewer golden eagles, who are a bit more reclusive.

Prairie dogs out for a bit of fresh air keep an eye out for raptors in the sky . . . .

Prairie dogs out for a bit of fresh air keep an eye out for raptors up above . . . .

The prairie was teeming with life in a prairie dog town covering several acres. Each mound was occupied by a pair who were hovering near the opening just in case they had to make a dive for safety. Sharp warning barks announce the arrival of danger.

Abandoned ranch buildings bear witness to better days . . . .

What was once home to a pioneer ranching family, this old place sits deserted and lonely on the prairie. The fan on the windmill blows in the wind, making the only sound.

The Thinker . . . .

Another mature bald eagle rests on the brace posts of the fence. It’s a good level spot to watch the action on the ground.

“From up here, I can see forever” . . . .

This bald eagle and a raven (lower left) have chosen a tree top to scan the horizon for a meal.

To the east, the Pumpkin Buttes . . . .

To the west, the Big Horn Mountains . . . .

Log remnants of homestead cottage . . . .

As our journey took us back toward home, we stopped to pay a visit. An old homestead cabin where my parents spent the early years of their marriage now lays on the ground, moldering into dust. The cabin was taken down and the logs laid out and numbered with the goal of rebuilding at ranch headquarters about five miles away. Too many years swept by and the logs stayed put.

A black horse hangs back . . . .

We came upon a small band of horses running across the prairie. By the time we could come to a stop and get the camera ready, they were out of sight except for this black horse, who hung back and watched us for a few minutes. It tossed its head and took off after the others, apparently satisfied we were not carrying a bale of hay in the back of the jeep.

Which is it? . . . .

We had a hard time deciding whether this was an immature bald eagle or a golden. The shape of the head looks like a golden, but it is difficult to gauge the length of neck or tail feathers in flight from this angle. The wing fingers are more pronounced, and we ended up deciding it was a young bald eagle whose head feathers had not yet turned white. In all, we counted eight eagles in about two hours of driving which was about an average number to be seen in the immediate area. We will wait for the Bureau of Land Management report from other “eagle spotters” and hope these majestic birds are maintaining a healthy population.

Posts From The Past

Posted on January 1, 2014 by bygeorge

Character comes with age . . . .

The scars on this ancient cedar fence post are reminders of early settlements along Dry Creek. Many fences, erected by homesteaders, criss-crossed the land where we reside and were built to confine cattle, horses, and sheep in pastures for grazing. These gnarled old posts are sentinels protecting the past and stand silently along our walking path, growing more beautiful with ancient patina each year.

Last post standing . . . .

I can hear the bleating of animals, taste the dust from tractors, trucks and trailers hauling hay or grain or animals through the barnyard, coming and going from the corrals and holding pens that once connected this post to many others.

Gate post holding on . . . .

As we have cleared rusty old barbed wire and rotted posts to make safe pasture for Abe and Tillie, we have been compelled to leave the old soldiers who have endured for so long. Some have born witness to dugout homes built into the creek banks where nearby seeps provided water for the early settlers; others were planted in the ground to divide the open range for the homesteads and small ranches that formed in the early 1900’s.

In the shadow of trees . . . .

As we observe the first day of the New Year 2014, it seems appropriate to look back at the bygone days of life here on Dry Creek. We remember those tough pioneers who came here before us with great fondness, and wonder how they made it through the hardships they had to endure. Our lives are vastly different in many ways, yet remain the same as we follow in their footsteps.

Holidays With Friends 2013

Posted on December 29, 2013 by bygeorge

“A skillet filled with vittles!” . . . .

The birds have been flocking to the feeders in the bitter cold weather this holiday season. We are enjoying more snow that in recent years and had a lovely white Christmas, shared with our many friends here along Dry Creek.

“A long winter’s nap in a nice little nook.” . . . .

Old Hoot is back in his favorite perch in the cottonwood above the house. He blends in so well he is almost invisible.

Where did you hide the cookies? . . . .

Sally Mae had not dropped by in quite some time, and on Christmas Eve appeared coming down the lane to the house for her usual cookie. Many hugs and kisses and tummy rubs for Sally made Rosie quite jealous and she protested vigorously. In this scene Sally is trying to make herself a little more inconspicuous as she basks in our love and affection for her.

Breakfast of leaves and twigs – yum! . . . .

This guy was captured Christmas Morning through the bay window. He brought along a pal.

Did Santa come? . . . .

These guys don’t look like reindeer, so I doubt they were up all night delivering presents.

Bleu was basking in the warm glow from the fireplace – “What, me worry?”

Bleu was chastised and chased from Rosie’s sleeping pad, so he chose his next best option and curled up in a chair.

“The weather outside is frightful – how nice to be indoors!” . . . .

Well, I sure taught that cat a lesson. Some crust!

“I wish I could be in the barn with Tillie!” . . . .

“Hey, Feed Lot, come on over and we’ll talk!” . . . .

Best buddies, Tillie and Feed Lot (Abe) spend their days together grazing and romping the length and breadth of the place. We bring them in late afternoon and Tillie spends the night in a soft bed of wood chips inside the barn, while Feed Lot fends for himself outside the corral. He’s hoping next year Santa brings him a shed to keep the snow off his back and the wind from his face.

“It’s time for my supper!” . . . .

Mr. Mouse is top hand in the barn. He spends his days hunting for mice and voles but heads to the house evenings for his vittles. He has planted himself at the gate to let everyone know he’s ready to have his supper and a warm bed.

“Let’s fly south and get out of this stuff!” . . . .

This shot is dedicated to Esme’ who built a nest and laid her eggs somewhere in the poplar patch last summer. We knew she was nesting and saw her on occasion, and then her visitations to the wading pool stopped. We searched in vain for some sign of her, but not a feather or a trace was found. So now Fred, Ethel, Ricky, Lucy and McGill have to carry on without her.

“Only bare ground to be found–shall we fly now?” . . . .

Since the chickens took over what was goose quarters last winter, the downy feathered five have had to survive in a makeshift home of hay bales staggered to offer some nooks and crannies.

Goose port in a storm . . . .

The chickens have fared very well in the ancient brooder house Dad built in the 1940’s of 4 x 4 lumber. They lay more eggs than we can keep up with, producing 70-80 per week, even in cold weather!

“Is it lunch time?” . . . .

Henrietta hogs the nest while Clara waits her turn . . . .

Dee Dee hogs the nest while Clara waits her turn . . . .

The little fluffy tops had to have a separate house, as the larger hens were picking on them. Lady’s old dog house, which was well insulated, was converted into the “Polish Condo” and makes a snug little house for Phyllis and Marilyn. They have their own separate yard to scratch and exercise in right next door to the other chickens. Pearl flies over the fence that separates them to visit most days, but she doesn’t harm her two little friends.

“We could do with some warmer weather, and how about this new health insurance?” . . . .

We were’t able to capture everyone, and there will doubtless be additions to our menagerie in the coming year. For now, we wish everyone a Happy New Year in 2014!

Wild Wyoming Woman

the news from Dry Creek . . .