tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91406746918230423062024-02-02T16:15:01.268-07:00Prairie PotholesTrue confessions of life in the Northern Plains.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-46625370305917574822014-08-05T19:18:00.003-06:002014-08-05T19:18:30.808-06:00Measure Twice, Cut Once
Ah, summer. It's been a good one. Life with infants and toddlers is nothing compared to life with two school age children who have blossoming imaginations and interests. So when they jokingly told us they wanted a treehouse, we ran with that idea.
I've been reminded (by the children) that the kitchen remodel project from this past winter isn't quite complete and they Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-71001521704742254922014-07-19T12:30:00.000-06:002014-07-19T12:30:07.626-06:00The Sweet Smell of Summer
"My candle burns at both ends It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
it gives a lovely light."
~Edna St. Vincent Millay
I've been repeating this line memorized in high school English quite often to myself these past few weeks. It is the life that we live. And it is only briefly during the summer months that we need to live this way. So we Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-26562031334875648132014-03-26T07:53:00.000-06:002014-03-26T07:54:45.812-06:00Magical
A few short weeks ago we were not terribly busy as February is filled with the feeding of cows and the avoidance of crazy cold weather. So we hopped in our vehicle and headed southwest for an extended weekend in West Yellowstone. The high that day as we drove across the prairie and west of the Crazy Mountains was certainly not more than about -12 degrees.
On Friday morning,Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-36205532601440003832013-11-02T08:59:00.001-06:002013-11-02T08:59:48.750-06:00The View From Up There
When I moved to Montana 12 years ago, I told everyone that I was headed west for the mountains. I should have been more specific. Turns out there are mountains in the eastern part of the state as well. The Sheep Mountains form the last portion of the divide between the Yellowstone River and the Missouri River before they join together near Montana's border with North Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-25348237693137011592013-08-20T07:37:00.000-06:002013-08-20T07:37:55.519-06:00Kindergarten and Our Changed World
My heart broke a little bit yesterday. Like millions of other parents around the world, I had to let go of them and let them take this first big step out in to the great wide world. Watching them get on the bus, I felt as though they were headed off to school for the next 13 years, not the next 7.5 hours. I cried multiple times. Yesterday. And Sunday. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-36963750647359046132013-08-07T11:11:00.000-06:002013-08-07T11:11:09.546-06:00Wild Montana Skies
John Denver got more than a few things right in his playbook of songs. Most of all, though, he nailed it when he sang of those Wild Montana Skies.
This summer, more than any of the other 11 summers that I have spent on the prairie, I have never been more in awe of the sky. And I have never seen those skies produce more widespread damage to crops, property, and wildlife than Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-68248906118522707592013-07-12T07:27:00.001-06:002013-07-12T07:31:01.206-06:00The Spring of our Patriotism
It all started in pre-school. My children discovered a love for the presidents, and with our boy that love was for Abraham Lincoln. So when I flew back east with the kids for a few days to attend a meeting in Alexandria, I made it our mission to do a whirlwind tour of my favorite D.C. sites in one quick yet beautiful evening. First stop: Lincoln Memorial. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-21734832829926885942013-06-05T07:30:00.000-06:002013-06-05T07:30:00.725-06:00
Never underestimate the alluring charm of Nor' Dakota is what I like to tell people. I'm not from there but I do live right next to it.
Despite the distinct lack of mountains, it has a special beauty all its own and is worth the visit. Theodore Roosevelt National Park, the Red River Valley, the badlands and the sunflowers blooming in the August sunshine. (I'm Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-26768201206279003262013-04-30T06:36:00.000-06:002013-04-30T06:36:01.070-06:00Closing Time
Two a.m. has suddenly taken on a new meaning for me. What, several years ago, used to be "last call" is now "wake-up call." When calving season arrives in mid-March of every year, Danish Cowboy and I start to loathe our alarm clocks. In previous years, I was limited to the occasional 10:00 check before bedtime and the 6:00 check upon waking. Especially with two Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-88943928597484882382013-01-03T20:38:00.000-07:002013-01-03T20:38:32.673-07:00Finding Zen at World's EndMy children occasionally like to confiscate my tablet every once in a while, navigating across the touch screen with the ease of seasoned technological veterans. How two five year olds can accomplish so many things with modern technology is beyond my comprehension. It is an intuitive concept to them, one that we allow them to pursue albeit with some trepidation.
But I've gotten away Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-41404608898230980952012-09-10T07:02:00.001-06:002012-09-10T07:02:39.695-06:00Listen to the LandDanish Cowboy and I have these rules. We don't talk about politics or wolves and we respect each other's outlook on life. We balance each other by trying to bind together the "cup half empty/cup half full" dichotomy. We have insanely different talents and interests, each of us with an independent mind to focus on those things. I tend to be silently jealous of oneEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-63318058913970988972011-12-29T21:23:00.001-07:002011-12-30T07:15:24.409-07:00Killing Coyote
Don't worry my fair-hearted liberal friends...no animals were killed in the creation of this post. Actually, no animals have ever been harmed when I join Danish Cowboy on his evening coyote calls...
Canis latrans, more commonly known as the coyote (two syllables, silent "e" at the end, please) is a common resident of the prairie. He feeds on a multitude of foods ranging Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-49175567374869979932011-11-10T06:37:00.000-07:002011-11-10T06:56:49.293-07:00A Moment (A Very Brief Moment) of ClarityVisiting with a good friend yesterday, I realized that this blog might be a really good sham of my existence. We had a good laugh about the insanity of life in these parts, about the insanity that life brings anywhere really. You don't have to live in Brockway to feel as if you're going crazy. I suppose it can happen just as easily in, say, South Africa or Missouri, as it can right here in our Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-30354297711513330092011-11-08T22:24:00.001-07:002011-11-08T22:29:52.857-07:00Inspired...FinallyLife happens everyday and then, suddenly, life happens just a bit too much. And when it does that, it tends to throw you for a loop. You either get really inspired or, in my case, the flame of inspiration is but a slight flicker. But you get it back. You always get it back if you try hard enough.
So, as I was driving home and noticing the full moon high overhead and the Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-72478015808326126562011-09-28T06:49:00.000-06:002011-09-28T06:49:39.670-06:00Wandering
"This is a moon rock," she said. "Yeah, it's a moon rock because it looks like the moon and it came from the moon. It fell off of it while it was sleeping and landed here."
My first thought on Wednesday evening was that I would drop little man off with his dad to make some rounds on the tractor with him while he was seeding winter wheat. I would then proceed home Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-86904454991304266272011-09-08T07:01:00.000-06:002011-09-08T07:03:02.821-06:00The Colors of Montana (Yes, Again!)
My son has this calendar filled with pictures of gleaming semi trucks and their various trailers. The trucks are staged in equally gleaming locations and perfectly backlit. I occasionally look at it with him and think to myself: what kind of photographer aspires to take still life pictures of trucks?
Then, as I was looking though my picture collection of theEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-90850764189383381372011-09-01T21:05:00.000-06:002011-09-01T21:05:58.626-06:00King's Gap Environmental Education and Training CenterThe greatest passions of your life are often, but not always, developed at an early age. For me, horses and nature have always been an integral part of life. Living where I do, I'm lucky because I am surrounded by those passions just outside my doorstep. Even though I have them in my daily life, you never forget where the greatest love affairs of your life started. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-27586748220464715622011-07-27T07:16:00.000-06:002011-07-27T07:16:57.478-06:00Time...marching on.2003 Danish Cowboy started this tradition years ago and didn't really realize that it was a tradition until just recently. I have married a man who believes greatly in the karma of tradition and here goes his philosophy: since we started taking pictures of us in the winter wheat fields just prior to them turning to those amber waves of grain that everyone likes to talk about, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-12604660608319072172011-06-26T08:30:00.000-06:002011-06-26T08:30:49.326-06:00Adventures in LandscapingI've always wanted a pond...... so I built one. This small area in front of the house was formerly occupied by annual garden beds. My mother-in-law planted, literally, hundreds of flowers here every summer and tended to them with great care. Annual flowers and I do not agree so well and while I tried to continue this tradition for a few years, it never looked Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-81472587103851961332011-06-22T06:38:00.000-06:002011-06-22T06:38:07.375-06:00Bummer!
One of the many reasons that I love living where I do. Animals give kids a sense of responsibility and a good work ethic. Thunder and Boomer (the calves) are our two bums that my kids and my two nieces are raising this spring and summer. It has been a delight to watch them gain confidence by interacting with them.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-73586897170993725442011-05-18T06:22:00.000-06:002011-05-18T06:22:59.177-06:00An Evolving TraditionMay arrives with a bustle of activity every year. Calving season is winding down and crops are going in to the ground. Inevitably, a rain storm hits and puts the brakes on the tractors for a few days. With field work grinding to a halt (not that there has been much of that anyway with this extraordinarily wet spring), a good day for a branding of the calves Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-41494624146170221092011-04-26T22:04:00.000-06:002011-04-26T22:04:53.244-06:00Tall Tales and Fort Peck WhalesMuch to the dismay of our mothers, Danish Cowboy and I decided to forego the Easter dinner of ham and chocolate that our families traditionally have and head to the Fort Peck reservoir with granola bars and fruit snacks for a few hours this past Sunday to try our hand at some springtime fishing.
We decided early on that anyone with a hook and worm can catch large walleye and northern Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-23829395268348613092011-04-23T07:28:00.000-06:002011-04-23T07:28:12.867-06:00Traditions I set out with this post to tell a story about Easter. This curious mind knows the Christian version quite well, but that story doesn't really tell you where the word and the traditions come from.
Turns out it's not so simple. As with many things in our world, there are lots of stories to go around. Most of them are valid, some not so much. Traditions start, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-69246487787157174852011-04-03T21:23:00.000-06:002011-04-03T21:23:47.487-06:00Spring, FinallyThey arrive during the day amidst tractors feeding hay, four wheelers zooming about, and the constant hum of a farm that is preparing for the work of spring.They arrive in the cool stillness of the night, the shiny afterbirth that covers them glistens in the spotlight that checks them at 10:00, 2:00 and 6:00. Their mothers are bred to be attentive, protective, and loving and the wet, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9140674691823042306.post-29707916446479707012011-02-17T21:11:00.001-07:002011-02-18T20:02:08.268-07:00The ExpertHaving grown up on the prairie, all that Danish Cowboy really knows of sledding consists of short hills and pulling a sled behind a four wheeler or a snowmobile. Having grown up in central Pennsylvania, I know more. A lot more.I know so much in fact, that I would consider myself an expert. I've always wanted to be the awesomest at something and now I've figured Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12421158864034331045noreply@blogger.com0