So, I’ve been thinking about doing a series of posts about life on the ranch from a city girl’s perspective. I was born and bred in a place where you put on make-up to go to the gym. Where your hair is always “done”. Where there is gridlock and tall, shiny buildings that catch the sun just so it blinds you in said gridlock. And I loved it.
My father thinks it’s hysterical that I went to California and met a cowboy. But, the truth is, I would never have been in a place to meet a Texas one. Although, I wouldn’t have expected it in Carmel either. Paul’s a cowboy in the truest sense - the old school kind. He’s a gentleman first. He has manners, except in his sleep. He opens car doors and I allow it. I mean, just one less thing I have to do, right? He tips his hat brim to the ladies. He wishes he’d been born centuries earlier so he could drive a horse-drawn wagon. I just think it must have taken them forever to get anywhere. Plus, what’s up with those dresses? Do I need more padding back there?
But, I fell in love with this life; which is shocking to everyone - including myself. It can be difficult and hard. It’s ironic on a daily basis, but it’s so rewarding. Plus, we’ve got a pretty nice spread. We have 170 acres right here and lease an additional 700+. There are ponds and creeks and trees and a random hillbilly fort that Paul is scared to look at up close. (He finally saw “Deliverance”.)
The one thing that is missing however, is corrals. The former owners basically just mowed the place and baled it up for hay.
We are having the inaugural TC Cattle Company branding next weekend, so corrals are important. Paul kept changing the location of where they would go. We finally decided that next to the county road, in the horse pasture, would be best. And by we, I mean I. I kept having visions of an 18-wheeler trying to cross over that creek. Paul thought we could just build something to go over it – WHAT???? Anyway, it just so happens that this new location is right by the power and water lines. We better get those marked. I mean, I kinda like the guy, I’d hate for him to be dead.
(Horse Pasture where the corrals will go - note the power pole.)
First up – Power Company.
Me: Hi, I’d like to set-up a time for someone to come and mark
the lines on the ground for us.
Nice Lady: Ok. What’s your account number?
Me: Number.
Lady: What do you need it for?
Me: We are building some corrals and they will be near the road
and the power pole is right there. It runs from there to our
house. We don’t want to dig and hit it, thus electrocuting my
husband.
Odd Lady: You need it to be marked at your house?
Me: No, in the pasture. By the pole. Next to the road.
WTF Lady: By the barn?
Me: What barn? There is no barn. It’s a pasture.
Dumbass: So, near the house in the pasture. Near the b----
Me: ----There is no barn. It is a pasture with nothing in it except
a horse. Could we schedule a time for someone to come out?
I wish I had a picture of where the house is from this pasture. It's raining
or I'd go take one - but they are not close.
Dumbass: Yeah, they’ll come out.
Me: When?
Dumbass: I don’t know.
Me: Okaaaay. Would there possibly be some way to find this
information out?
Dumbass: They’ll just come out.
Now, normally I would have pressed this. Would that be today?
Tomorrow? In two weeks? But, I think it would have shaved another
half an hour off my life, so I didn’t. Plus, I still needed to call on the
water.
Rural Water Company:
It is very important that you know here that the woman who answered the phone quite possibly was around when Oklahoma was under water. So, I am thankful she works at the water company – she should know what’s up.
Me: Hi, I’d like to set-up a time to have the water line marked on
our property.
Dino Lady: Well, where is it?
Me: Would you like my account number?
Dino Lady: Is it in Hugo? What’s your name?
Me: Yes, It’s in Hugo. Julie Tarp. Would you like my account?
Dino Lady: Trap?
Me: Tarp.
Dino Lady: Carp?
Me: Tarp. Like a canvas tarp. (This happens on a daily basis.)
Dino Lady: Oh! Tarp.
Me: Yes. Would you like my account number?
Dino Lady: Where is it in Hugo?
Me: Um, like the address?
Dino Lady: Like, where?
Me: Um, like West of the city? I really don’t know what you’re
looking for here. The address is….
Dino Lady: Oh, did you buy Jimmy’s place?
Me: Yes.
Dino Lady: Ok. One of the boys will be out.
Me: Do you know when?
Dino Lady: You know how boys are.
Me: My head hurts. Thank you.
I have to say that those boys were really on top of things. They came out the very same day. And now we know where our next-door neighbor’s water line is.
Welcome to Rural America.
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For example - I called up one of the County offices to find out what our address was going to be, since our place is a chunk of what used to be a very large cattle pasture. We ended up spending 30 minutes deciding, in a friendly way, EXACTLY where our new gate was going to be, since a couple of feet either way would kick in a different address. The lady on the other end was just as nice and helpful as can be. I ended up talking to her for almost an hour, going from new address, to how the previous owner carved up the large pasture, to local politics, etc.
Having power brought in to where our house was going to be was an eye-opener - but the two engineers that came out were friendly, and very sympathetic once we realized that our original route for the power line was going to cost a significant part of $20K. We got it settled for about half that, based on a choice of several of their alternate suggestions, and it was installed inside of 5 days.
I expect more fun once we get ready to install a septic and have a well drilled...
Sam
Sam - We had an issue with our address too. The former owners didn't receive mail here, had a PO Box. So, when I called the Post Office they weren't really sure what to do. I mean, we couldn't very well use the legal description - it's like a paragraph long. We just used what 911 had and put up our mailbox. Things are pretty easy in a lot of ways out here. No permits, no city/county involved. My sister-in-law is doing what you are in California and it has cost a ridiculous amount just in permits. And they are certainly not willing to work with anyone. We're pretty lucky. Good luck with the drilling. Just keep reminding yourself what the finished product will be - water and a toilet!
With utilities: we've been there and done that... one time we had to go out to the pole and plug our telephone in to make calls, for two weeks. At least we didn't have to climb the freaking pole!!! (That was before cellular, obviously)
When I first got married, I put on makeup to go on all my farm errands and to the field. That was then, this is now and I'm sorry to say I don't care how I look when outdoors. oh, well, the cows and the chickens don't care.
Good luck!
My first ever branding was about six years ago and I didn't have a clue what to expect. I was only watching of course. Paul kept riding over to me to make sure that I was okay. The noises the calves make! The manager's kids were there. Cutest little girls you've ever seen - 4 and 6 maybe. So, I'm completely grossed out by the castration. Well, more so by the large bucket containing the remnants. I, unfortunately, said as much and the girls heard me. Cut to: Me being chased around by screaming little blonde-headed girls with calf balls. It was really something when they started to throw them at me. Good times.
Very very brave! I could never move somewhere like that!
I guess love makes you do everything!
And good luck with the branding, I hope I never have to sit on a bull calf while someone hold an iron three inches from my boot while someone else waives around a knife turning them into a steer ever again.
Poetess - You are right in that it's highly conducive for writing. Except, I'm now trying to figure out where to hide from the tornado that's coming. Talk about the wilds being grand!
I live on a rural island off Seattle and commute to L.A.
So, I get the bizarro world view.
Is your script about your fish out of water life change?
Here's the logline: Nevada cattle rancher Wayne Hage takes on the U.S. Government in a landmark case after greedy federal agencies threaten, harass and attempt to take his land. Based on a true story.
My burning question is: what do you do with the "remnants" when you're done? Calf fry?
Speaking of rural American you might enjoy my last post:
http://open.salon.com/blog/bluesurly/2009/04/06/the_septic_situation
Blue - I have absolutely no intention of eating anything's balls. Read into that whatever you will. If people want them, I guess we'll do it though.
JK - I know, right? Um, about mom. I just sent her Weird Al fat suit up. I think she's really trying. I mean, she's putting on a skit for y'all and everything. Oh, and a tip - she's always been a very strong swimmer.
E - A nice kitten heel slingback - always appropriate.
Helen - It is really nice to be on the cover. I kept thinking about the fact that Paul could die and there would be no electricity for us or anyone out here.
Best way to find your place is gps coordinates, but it sounds like trying to give those to those utilities people might make their heads explode.
I have bells, they will be on.
I hope that means that you are coming!! Don't use your GPS to find the place. My dad totally bypassed my directions and the Tom Tom gave him our road - two towns over. That's the thing with these county roads - they can stretch on forever.
Christian - I know, it's like nothing made sense to her until she realized it was "Jimmy's place."
Thanks Glenn - glad to see you back around here.
Ma - They do have charm, but I don't know about the aging well part. Paul is five years younger than me and his body is already waaaay older. They put themselves through alot. I imagine a hip replacement will be on the agenda sooner rather than later. I've got a good one though.
will let you know by Mon or Tues Julie, thanks for your gracious patience.
I can see the girls chasing you around with the RM oysters.lol
I'm originally from a small town in Illinoisy called Chicago.
I still love the place.
I've lived in north central WI for a lotta yeerz and love it here also.
Just the other day, while I was riding around out near a section of woods, I saw a typical sight which is caused by city slickers attempting to imitate the locals.
This time of year, you can see a lot of buckets hanging on the trunks of maple trees.
Well, since not yet adapted shitty city slickers are crroks at heart, I saw several of these buckets hanging on power poles.
The idiots were trying to steal electricity.
This was a lot of fun to read ! I wish you would write more about what it's like living there, and about living a rural life in general. It's so remote for most of us and I think it doesn't get honored or talked about enough and certainly not published (since most newspapers, mags and blogs are done by people in cities or suburbs). My mom grew up on a farm and I always loved to hear her stories about it. What's interesting is what has change in that way of life...and what hasn't. Sounds like these exchanges were more about the latter!
Also, I will never, ever castrate anything again. Once was enough. I only THOUGHT I was a tough, stoic farmhand. I'm a weenie!
Great read!