Category Archives: Agriculture and Ranching

Ranch Wife Musings | Beginning Well

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, gardening, Writing

Originally printed in the Custer County Chronicle on January 3, 2024

And just like that, we are standing on the threshold of a new year.

For better or for worse, last year is gone, done, nothing to be added or subtracted, and a brand-new year is just beginning. For some, it is exciting to look ahead to the future, gleaming with possibilities, while for others it feels like more of the same, and maybe is discouraging to look ahead and see nothing changing. It is bittersweet to see the last year pass away, with all of the joys and sorrows, successes and failures, regret at what we didn’t accomplish and gladness at what we did. It is easy to fall to the negative in all those things, seeing the struggles much more clearly than we see the joys. It is easier somehow to remember everything that went wrong, and to forget all the things that went right. But here we are, standing on the threshold and peering ahead into an unsullied year. And many of us, maybe most of us, catch at least a little of a sense of excitement.

Seasonally, it is a refreshing time. A dusting of snow underfoot, brisk breezes to nip the face, glorious watercolor sunsets we only ever enjoy in the dead of winter, and trees reaching up their bare branches into the pale skies. By South Dakota standards, we are halfway through our winter season, and spring is on the horizon, or just over it. The days are getting longer again, releasing us little by little from the long, dark evenings. Seed catalogs, colorful reminders of the joy and work of summer, have been perused, and in no time the seed starting will begin in earnest. Chick orders are being placed, and heifers are looking heavy, starting to waddle in their pregnant-ness, and could calve in as little as six or eight weeks for us, imminently for others. The lull in the ranching calendar is truly short lived, and a lot of folks are gearing up for the impending rush that will launch us into a new cycle of work on the ranch.

I admit, I love the start of a new year. I love the process and the discipline of reflecting back on the last year, seeing the ways in which God provided, the joys that He brought, the ways I have changed and grown, skills I have learned, people I have met, opportunities that were presented. And there is a sense of relief in being able to identify things that I truly wish to change, and to look ahead with hope and optimism and with trust that God isn’t done working on me. We get so caught up in our routines and habits, it can be hard to think outside the box we have built for ourselves, to shake some cobwebs off our thinking and our dreams and get to work doing something better, something new.

The New Year provides just that opportunity, and the freshness of the year gives permission.

Some people scoff at the idea of setting New Year’s resolutions, probably because so often those resolutions fail within a week or three of the New Year. Some people see failed resolutions as training in failure, but I think that’s just an excuse, and I think there is benefit even in an uncompleted or imperfectly kept resolution.

I think a lot of resolutions fail because they are poorly thought out, poorly conceived of. Maybe they are arbitrary, just another thing to add to the to-do list, without any real reason behind it. Maybe they are overly specific, so that they are almost impossible to keep, or under specific, so we can easily talk ourselves out of them. I think a lot of resolutions fail because they aren’t really honest about what our struggles are, what our habits are, and we don’t solicit help from our family and friends, and we don’t invite accountability. I think resolutions fail mostly, though, because we are complacent in our comfortable habits.

Personally, I like to think of goals, rather than resolutions. I find the exercise to be a beautiful reminder that life is a process. We don’t get to skip the work and reap the benefits. Without being intentional in our personal, spiritual, physical, and relational development, growth will be inconsistent at best. Growth takes work, it takes sacrifice, and sometimes it takes some backsliding and incomplete successes and downright failures. And that’s okay.

Sometimes the very act of setting a goal in our sights is enough to at least keep us pointed in the right direction. We might get off, we might fail, but we can reorient towards that goal and get back on track. It is hard to make changes without specifics, without something concrete to be working towards.

So, I love to use this season as a time to write my lists and set my goals, and I take the time to evaluate, dream, and ask questions. What would a richer faith look like? What would greater trust in God look like? What would time better spent look like? What benefits would that reap? What would a sweeter marriage look like? How can I grow in love and forbearance and patience? What is something I want to learn? Something I want to do better? A way I want to grow?

New Year’s resolutions and goals don’t have to be complicated. Honestly, it is probably better that they aren’t. But having a vision and goals can help to infuse hope and optimism into the New Year, and help us to begin well.

Eggs and Yogurt

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life

Maybe two of the simplest foods. Eggs and yogurt. And it is amazing what we’ve grown accustomed to from the grocery store, and how incredibly delicious they are when homegrown.

One of the things I love about having chickens (and now a milk cow!) is being able to provide friends and family with fresh (fresh fresh!) eggs and milk. But of course I also love to be able to enjoy them at home, too!

I made yogurt for the first time with Posey’s milk, and tasted it this morning. Goodness gracious. There’s a night and day difference between store bought yogurt and homemade yogurt with store bought milk, but there’s an even bigger night and day difference when you use fresh, raw milk! Sweet, creamy, without any of the bitterness of store bought. You don’t even need to add anything to it, it is so good!

Simple pleasures.

The Making of Cow Dogs

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Pets/Domestic/Farm Animals, Photography

It has already been more than a year since Pearl disrupted our quiet house with six puppies. Their birthday was December 3. We are happy four of them went to good homes, and we kept two for ourselves, thoroughly enjoying the chaos and companionship good dogs can provide! Not to mention their incredible instincts, and how handy they are working cows.

This is the first time I have ever had a border collie dog, and now I can’t imagine not having a border collie! Josie is really the best little friend. She is company on my quiet home days, company when I go to town, company on my morning walks and gladly curls up next to me while I milk Posey. She is such a good partner when we’re moving cows, except for her propensity to quit me and go to where the big action is, and it is hilarious to watch her work the entire herd, back and forth and back and forth, with seemingly endless energy. She has learned to help load cows into the alleyway and into the chute, and on her own figured out that the catwalk right before the alleyway is a great place to post herself when cows are getting loaded. She’ll go forever, but then is more than happy to curl up on the sofa at the end of the day and cuddle.

So here are some cute photos of Bess and Josie to brighten your day!

I’m awfully glad God created dogs.

Ranch Wife Musings | Worth the Wait

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Writing

Originally published in the Custer County Chronicle on December 6, 2023

How is it already December! That last page in the calendar, the last 31 days of writing “2023,” the last few weeks of this year, with all of its successes and failures and joys and sorrows. On the ranch, it is tempting to begin to look towards spring somewhat impatiently: to the increasingly-longer days, the arrival of the first calves, planting the first seeds, harvesting the first early greens. The lull in the regular rhythm of ranch work can be frustrating for those who want to be busy all the time.

As humans, a lot of our life is spent waiting. We wait in line at the grocery store. We wait and pray for children, for recovery from illness, for that promotion or raise or perfect job. We wait for our dreams to be realized, to find the right spouse. We wait for gardens to grow, and trees to bear fruit, and chickens to lay eggs, and calves to be born. And we are conditioned to think that waiting is inherently bad, a thing to be avoided, a problem to be solved. We try to find ways to speed up the process, to be more efficient, to accomplish more faster, to achieve results in less time. But it doesn’t matter what we do, winter will last one quarter of the year (or more in South Dakota), gardens need rest, cows require 9 months to grow a calf, and it still takes at least seventy days to grow a tomato. And so we wait.

This is where the Advent season finds us. Waiting. Waiting for what comes next. In the coldest, darkest time of the year, we are waiting. And it can either be a burden, or an opportunity.

The older I get, the more the Advent season touches my heart, and the more this period of restful, watchful waiting resonates with meaning and purpose. Although it is observed with gravity and sobriety, I relish the undercurrent of celebration and joy, this time to remember God’s blessings over the last year and years past, looking forward with hope to whatever it is that comes next. It is a time to rest in the waiting.

Two years ago, almost to the day, my now husband asked me to marry him. I was 31, and had prayed and hoped for years that God would provide a husband, a good husband, a kind husband, a husband who loved Jesus. And each year that went by, I wondered. But in my loneliness, God gave me contentment, and then continued to give me years of singleness, years of waiting I realize now were not purposeless but were preparatory. And it was into this waiting that God provided a spouse. I remember how vividly I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that all the waiting and hoping and praying had been worth it. The years of loneliness had been worth it. The man God had brought into my life was worth the wait.

But human nature wants to rush right through to “the good stuff,” rather than seeing the beauty and the benefit of the wait, and we short-circuit times of growth and preparation in our attempts to shorten the waiting. Rather than allowing the anticipation to teach us contentment, we allow ourselves to learn resentment. Rather than joy, we learn annoyance and frustration. Rather than celebrating what we have been given, we dwell on what we perceive that we lack.

We can choose to focus on what God has given, or on what He hasn’t given. We can intentionally choose joy, or we can choose discontent. 

Sometimes we wait, years or decades, finally experiencing a real and radical change in our situation, God giving us the thing that our heart desired. Sometimes we wait, and instead are given a real and radical change in our hearts, a change that allows for contentment and peace where there was once anxiety and resentment and worry. Sometimes the blessing is simply a heart with a greater trust in God’s ways, even the ways we don’t understand.

Advent remembers the change that God brought to His waiting world when He provided a Savior in the form of Jesus Christ. But there are a million other blessings that God brings, and the watchful waiting of Advent brings these things to the forefront.

So, I savor the lights and the decorations, the sweet traditions that bring warmth and color into the cold, bleak winter, traditions like cutting a tree and watching It’s a Wonderful Life, listening to Christmas music and baking my Grandma’s pfeffernusse, doing Advent readings and lighting the candles, and gathering with family. All the customs that grow one’s anticipation for the approach of Christmas Day, reminding us of God’s promises, His faithfulness, and of the beauty in the waiting.  

Milking Time

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, Ordinary Joys

The early part of my morning had already become a favorite part of my day. Catching the sunrise and maybe even the last stars, smelling the warm smell of cow and the sweet smell of warm milk, listening to the creamy streams singing into my bucket, and the low sounds of Posey munching grain.

We had an escalating battle of wills last week that resulted in a kicking battle, which I won, after a delightful time milking punctuated by dodging kicks and kicking Posey right back. The look of vague and unconcerned surprise on her face was deceptive, because the next morning she was a new animal. She has been an angel ever since.

And the kittens have learned to recognize the milk pail. I’m not sure there’s anything sweeter than Little Elsa with milk all over her face and paws.

Little, mundane moments truly are what make life so beautiful and pleasant.

Make Something

Posted on by under Agriculture and Ranching, country life, gardening

In a culture that wants fast and easy, cheap and replaceable, instant gratification and consumerism, convenience and mass-produced, it makes no sense to walk away to something totally different. It makes no sense to do for oneself. To take the long way around. To do it the slow way. To accept and embrace inconveniences.

If you had told me how satisfying it would be to eat eggs from my chickens, milk and cream and butter from my own milk cow, our own meat and vegetables and fresh baked bread, I would have believed you, but I wouldn’t have understood. Five years ago and ten years ago, my heart wanted that. But I had no idea.

No idea how satisfying it would be. How inconvenient and simple and hard and beautiful and growing it would be. How frustrating and elevating. It has moments of romance and sheer hilarity and humbling. And I wouldn’t want to change a thing.

Push back against a consumer mentality and become a producer. In small ways. Learn to make bread. Cook from scratch. Grow a few veggies on your deck. Keep an herb garden. Learn a few skills to do things yourself. Dust off your sewing machine. It doesn’t have to be complicated and baby steps are beautiful.

Because there is nothing like serving a home cooked meal, picking veggies from the garden, or pulling a loaf of fresh baked bread from the oven, or handing a neighbor a dozen fresh eggs, or a gallon of fresh milk. There’s nothing like knowing you made that. A factory in China didn’t make that. A computer didn’t execute that. You did that. You did the cultivating and the picking and the mixing and kneading and milking and stitching.

So go make something.