Soapweed
Well-known member
My journal entry for Sunday, January 7, 1968
It was almost like spring today with the sun shining brightly and the temperature up to about 15 degrees. Maybe it was not quite like spring, but quite a little closer than it has been.
Dad and I got up at 6:00, did chores, and came in to breakfast. I brought the calves in while he got out the feed. I then started feeding hay around here, and Dad went up north to cake the cows. He was not gone long and came back in time to do the "head work" in loading on a stack butt. We gave all bunches of cattle about a half-feed so we could snap it up a little and make it to church on time [Merriman Methodist Church].
I got ready to go, and the rest of the outfit was ready also. Our small family of six piled into the pickup [single cab, which was all there was in those days]. When we arrived at church, it looked like a Moreland reunion. Besides the preacher and his wife, Grandma, Uncle Stan's and our family made up the congregation. About half way through the service, Bonnie Weber also joined the congregation.
We had dinner at Grandma's, along with Uncle Stan's and Reverend and Mrs. DeWitt. For entertainment, yarns were swapped and we read through some of Grandma's old diaries. Since we had to finish feeding at home, we left early and got home a little after 4:00.
I changed back into my work duds and went out to feed hay, as Dad had started the task of painting the ceiling in the den, living room, and hallway. By 6:00 I was done feeding. A bull had gotten into the meadow with the coming-two-year-old heifers. I climbed on Sassy and put him back where he belonged. When the bulls and horse were fed for the night, I came in to supper, fully expecting to go out on a rescue mission to pull Lloyd through the snow back to the Green Valley. About that time, there was a knock at the door. In came Lloyd, reporting that he had made it through without too many problems.
Dad and I just finished filling out the accident report and getting it ready to mail. I'm glad that's done because, otherwise, if it wasn't in after ten days, I'd be fined $500 or sent to jail for 90 days, or maybe even both.
I'm just killing time until it's time to go to bed.
Dad just called John Burton. Whenever he thinks the weather is getting him down and things are generally "going bad," he phones John and gets "instant relief." John's two ranches are 80 miles apart, so he feeds at one place one day and the other place the next day. He feeds with horses, and has two head at each place. At his south ranch, he has to go seven or eight miles from the buildings on up to where he feeds, which is undoubtedly a pretty chilly occupation. Two years ago, I helped John move some hay machinery between the two places. I drove a team, had a lot of fun, and saw some new and interesting country. The trip took two and a half days, and it rained two and a half inches on us during the trek.
It was almost like spring today with the sun shining brightly and the temperature up to about 15 degrees. Maybe it was not quite like spring, but quite a little closer than it has been.
Dad and I got up at 6:00, did chores, and came in to breakfast. I brought the calves in while he got out the feed. I then started feeding hay around here, and Dad went up north to cake the cows. He was not gone long and came back in time to do the "head work" in loading on a stack butt. We gave all bunches of cattle about a half-feed so we could snap it up a little and make it to church on time [Merriman Methodist Church].
I got ready to go, and the rest of the outfit was ready also. Our small family of six piled into the pickup [single cab, which was all there was in those days]. When we arrived at church, it looked like a Moreland reunion. Besides the preacher and his wife, Grandma, Uncle Stan's and our family made up the congregation. About half way through the service, Bonnie Weber also joined the congregation.
We had dinner at Grandma's, along with Uncle Stan's and Reverend and Mrs. DeWitt. For entertainment, yarns were swapped and we read through some of Grandma's old diaries. Since we had to finish feeding at home, we left early and got home a little after 4:00.
I changed back into my work duds and went out to feed hay, as Dad had started the task of painting the ceiling in the den, living room, and hallway. By 6:00 I was done feeding. A bull had gotten into the meadow with the coming-two-year-old heifers. I climbed on Sassy and put him back where he belonged. When the bulls and horse were fed for the night, I came in to supper, fully expecting to go out on a rescue mission to pull Lloyd through the snow back to the Green Valley. About that time, there was a knock at the door. In came Lloyd, reporting that he had made it through without too many problems.
Dad and I just finished filling out the accident report and getting it ready to mail. I'm glad that's done because, otherwise, if it wasn't in after ten days, I'd be fined $500 or sent to jail for 90 days, or maybe even both.
I'm just killing time until it's time to go to bed.
Dad just called John Burton. Whenever he thinks the weather is getting him down and things are generally "going bad," he phones John and gets "instant relief." John's two ranches are 80 miles apart, so he feeds at one place one day and the other place the next day. He feeds with horses, and has two head at each place. At his south ranch, he has to go seven or eight miles from the buildings on up to where he feeds, which is undoubtedly a pretty chilly occupation. Two years ago, I helped John move some hay machinery between the two places. I drove a team, had a lot of fun, and saw some new and interesting country. The trip took two and a half days, and it rained two and a half inches on us during the trek.