Soapweed
Well-known member
CELL PHONES AND GLOVES, by Steve Moreland
August 19, 2016
Yesterday afternoon I was at the Lancaster Livestock ranch supply store in Cody, Nebraska. A neighbor Travis Anderson came in, and reported that he needed our phone numbers again, as he had recently lost his cell phone along with all the contacts that were stored in it. The phone had fallen out of his pocket while he was unplugging his baler. The phone fell into a windrow of hay, and Travis thinks it is probably deep in the heart of one of eight possible large round hay bales. He has decided to not unroll any of the bales until hay feeding time arrives next winter.
The phone in the hay reminds me of an incident that happened back in the late 1940's when my dad, Bob Moreland, was a young man. Bob and his dad, Jack Moreland, had purchased about a fourth of the Bachelor/Quigley Bar T Ranch northeast of Merriman, which included the headquarters, main hay meadows, and buildings. They had renamed the place the "Green Valley Hereford Ranch." Bob and his brother Stan batched here most of the time, but during haying their dad Jack Moreland helped put up hay and their mother Grace did the cooking. All of the hay was mowed with an International 1948 model M tractor pulling a 7' bar mower with another 7' trail mower attached. Another man always had to ride the trail mower to operate the levers. The hay was then put into windrows with a dump rake pulled with a John Deere B tractor. The windrows were pushed together with a four-horse sweep and pushed onto the head of a "beaver-slide" stacker. The hay head loaded with a sweep load of hay was pulled up the beaver-slide ramp with four horses, by using a series of cables and pulleys. This system worked well, but more than three people on the crew made the work go much faster. One day my Grandpa Jack ran onto a hitch-hiker in Merriman who was looking for employment. Granddad hired him on the spot to be the "stacker man." The stacker's responsibility was to ride the stack up as it was being built, and use a pitchfork to place the hay into the four corners of the stack. He was also supposed to tromp the hay as it came up, to make bigger heavier finished stacks with less chance of tipping over. This new man seemed happy to get a job, and requested a cash advance for the purpose of buying a pair of work gloves. Jack complied, and the new man went right to work.
About the second stack of the afternoon, the new man asked if anyone had seen one of his new gloves which was lost. No one had seen it. About two stacks later, Stan was scatter-raking around one of the earlier stacks and saw the missing glove. He took it over to the new employee, but the man looked crest-fallen when he reported that it would do him no good now, as he had thrown the other glove into the middle of the last stack. His reasoning was that one glove was no good without the other. Uncle Stan hung onto the found glove, and made sure the next winter to feed a certain stack early in the season. Of course, the glove turned up, and it was in perfect condition. Stan was quite pleased with how the whole deal turned out, and he proudly wore his "new" pair of gloves.
Stan had been a cook in the Army during World War II, so it naturally befell on him to be the cook when he and Bob were batching. Stan had a friend from Minnesota who he met when they were both stationed in Japan. When they parted ways, neither one even had a girl-friend, but they made a pact to attend each other's wedding when and if that day ever came. Stan was getting tired of cooking, so he was the first of the two brothers to find a bride. He married Joy Lue Nero in Greeley, Colorado on September 4, 1949. His Army buddy Bruce Anderson from Minnesota traveled to the wedding, and he brought along his sister Elaine, who had that Labor Day week-end off from her job as a secretary in a bank in Minneapolis. Long story short—Stan's brother Bob fell in love with Bruce's sister Elaine. They courted long distance for over a year and were married on October 15, 1950 in Benson, Minnesota.
During the year that Stan was married and Bob wasn't, Joy Lue cooked for both men. Stan and Joy had a little dog, Mitzi, who was kind of half house dog and half outside dog. Bob didn't particularly care for Mitzi, but tolerated her. Bob and Stan were running low on hay, and their neighbor Charley Snyder to the east had some hay for sale. It was located on the Rickett meadow, about three miles southeast of the Moreland ranch. Any time Bob or Stan had some spare time, they would drive a four-horse team and a haysled to the Rickett meadow and cable on half of a six-ton stack to haul home. One day Bob was grumbling, "That darned Mitzi dog ran off with my new pair of gloves." Stan and Joy Lue sympathized with him and vowed to keep their eyes open for the missing items. A couple days later, Stan held up the gloves for Bob to see. He grinned and said, "That darned Mitzi put these up on top of the corner post of the gate going into the Rickett meadow." Bob was properly chagrined.
There used to be a saying of ranchers something to the effect of: "Never hire a person who wears a straw hat or gloves. They will either be chasing their straw hat or taking their gloves on and off, and they won't get much done." I wonder what these same old ranchers would say if they saw the distraction of cell phones in this day and age. Cell phones—hard to live with and harder to live without.
August 19, 2016
Yesterday afternoon I was at the Lancaster Livestock ranch supply store in Cody, Nebraska. A neighbor Travis Anderson came in, and reported that he needed our phone numbers again, as he had recently lost his cell phone along with all the contacts that were stored in it. The phone had fallen out of his pocket while he was unplugging his baler. The phone fell into a windrow of hay, and Travis thinks it is probably deep in the heart of one of eight possible large round hay bales. He has decided to not unroll any of the bales until hay feeding time arrives next winter.
The phone in the hay reminds me of an incident that happened back in the late 1940's when my dad, Bob Moreland, was a young man. Bob and his dad, Jack Moreland, had purchased about a fourth of the Bachelor/Quigley Bar T Ranch northeast of Merriman, which included the headquarters, main hay meadows, and buildings. They had renamed the place the "Green Valley Hereford Ranch." Bob and his brother Stan batched here most of the time, but during haying their dad Jack Moreland helped put up hay and their mother Grace did the cooking. All of the hay was mowed with an International 1948 model M tractor pulling a 7' bar mower with another 7' trail mower attached. Another man always had to ride the trail mower to operate the levers. The hay was then put into windrows with a dump rake pulled with a John Deere B tractor. The windrows were pushed together with a four-horse sweep and pushed onto the head of a "beaver-slide" stacker. The hay head loaded with a sweep load of hay was pulled up the beaver-slide ramp with four horses, by using a series of cables and pulleys. This system worked well, but more than three people on the crew made the work go much faster. One day my Grandpa Jack ran onto a hitch-hiker in Merriman who was looking for employment. Granddad hired him on the spot to be the "stacker man." The stacker's responsibility was to ride the stack up as it was being built, and use a pitchfork to place the hay into the four corners of the stack. He was also supposed to tromp the hay as it came up, to make bigger heavier finished stacks with less chance of tipping over. This new man seemed happy to get a job, and requested a cash advance for the purpose of buying a pair of work gloves. Jack complied, and the new man went right to work.
About the second stack of the afternoon, the new man asked if anyone had seen one of his new gloves which was lost. No one had seen it. About two stacks later, Stan was scatter-raking around one of the earlier stacks and saw the missing glove. He took it over to the new employee, but the man looked crest-fallen when he reported that it would do him no good now, as he had thrown the other glove into the middle of the last stack. His reasoning was that one glove was no good without the other. Uncle Stan hung onto the found glove, and made sure the next winter to feed a certain stack early in the season. Of course, the glove turned up, and it was in perfect condition. Stan was quite pleased with how the whole deal turned out, and he proudly wore his "new" pair of gloves.
Stan had been a cook in the Army during World War II, so it naturally befell on him to be the cook when he and Bob were batching. Stan had a friend from Minnesota who he met when they were both stationed in Japan. When they parted ways, neither one even had a girl-friend, but they made a pact to attend each other's wedding when and if that day ever came. Stan was getting tired of cooking, so he was the first of the two brothers to find a bride. He married Joy Lue Nero in Greeley, Colorado on September 4, 1949. His Army buddy Bruce Anderson from Minnesota traveled to the wedding, and he brought along his sister Elaine, who had that Labor Day week-end off from her job as a secretary in a bank in Minneapolis. Long story short—Stan's brother Bob fell in love with Bruce's sister Elaine. They courted long distance for over a year and were married on October 15, 1950 in Benson, Minnesota.
During the year that Stan was married and Bob wasn't, Joy Lue cooked for both men. Stan and Joy had a little dog, Mitzi, who was kind of half house dog and half outside dog. Bob didn't particularly care for Mitzi, but tolerated her. Bob and Stan were running low on hay, and their neighbor Charley Snyder to the east had some hay for sale. It was located on the Rickett meadow, about three miles southeast of the Moreland ranch. Any time Bob or Stan had some spare time, they would drive a four-horse team and a haysled to the Rickett meadow and cable on half of a six-ton stack to haul home. One day Bob was grumbling, "That darned Mitzi dog ran off with my new pair of gloves." Stan and Joy Lue sympathized with him and vowed to keep their eyes open for the missing items. A couple days later, Stan held up the gloves for Bob to see. He grinned and said, "That darned Mitzi put these up on top of the corner post of the gate going into the Rickett meadow." Bob was properly chagrined.
There used to be a saying of ranchers something to the effect of: "Never hire a person who wears a straw hat or gloves. They will either be chasing their straw hat or taking their gloves on and off, and they won't get much done." I wonder what these same old ranchers would say if they saw the distraction of cell phones in this day and age. Cell phones—hard to live with and harder to live without.
