Writing (and laughing) through life
He grows a handlebar mustache...sometimes. He uses a reata in the branding pen....sometimes. He rides a swell-fork saddle and team ropes in town, but with mulehide on his horn. He sports a government handle haircut but listens to classic rock. Is your man a buckaroo? Here are ten clues.1) He has never seen the ocean.2)... Continue Reading →
I took Grace out to the corner of the Airport Field where the cowboy crew was branding calves out of a rodear* the other day. I threw my camera and extra batteries in the diaper bag, but once I got there I decided to not take it out. I wanted to just be in the... Continue Reading →
That tall, handsome, hand-holding, rope-twirling, bronco-twister charmed you out of your pants and into a wedding dress. Then he plunked you down boots-first 10 miles past BFE and kissed you good day as he headed to the barn to catch his horse and go to to work. What do you do now? Following these 10... Continue Reading →
The first time my cowboy husband came home and said, "Honey, start packin'" was terrifying. I thought, Oh my gosh, we won't have health insurance and I'm four months pregnant! Where will we live? Will we be able to afford food? I can't live on Top Ramen and table salt! We won't have a paycheck... Continue Reading →
I don't see myself as a liaison between the ranching world and city dwellers. I don't use my blog or Facebook posts to explain our way of life to non-agricultural consumers. I mostly blog to amuse myself and make fun of my friends. I always blog with a pretty strong self-censor, too, because if outsiders... Continue Reading →
Living at the Diamond A without cell phone service isn't very different from living at the 25 without cell phone service, or living at the Van Norman Ranch without cell phone service. Here in Northern Nevada, we are long on colored cattle and Early Times, but short on cell towers. I may be the last... Continue Reading →
Going to town from the Diamond A in Northern Nevada is usually an all-day affair. If it doesn't take all day, it takes 15/16ths of a day, so it might as well take all day. The two-hour drive to Twin Falls, Idaho, the closest hub of civilization with a grocery store, is peaceful and beautiful.... Continue Reading →
Are you physically, mentally and emotionally equipped to be a woman living on a remote ranch? Men, if you score too highly on this, we may be suspicious - and hit you up for advice. 1) If you run out of milk while fixing biscuits for dinner, do you: a) Pull on your muck boots,... Continue Reading →
Last year was my first Thanksgiving as a married gal. Jim and I were at the 25 Ranch near Battle Mountain, Nevada, and invited the single cowboys from the nearby TS Ranch and the bunkhouse guys from next door over for a big traditional dinner. The turkey came out moist and golden, and only one... Continue Reading →
The #1 rule of being a cowboy's wife is Don't Worry. If a cowboy was supposed to come home late and it's getting later, Don't Worry. If you have no idea where on the vast, empty desert he might be, Don't Worry. If you're wondering if the yellow paint horse finally bronked him down and... Continue Reading →
Jolyn Young 