R & R

After 6 weeks working at the ranch it was time to take a full weekend off and go back into the ‘real world’ for a visit.   I met up with my boyfriend in a nearby town and we drove together to the buzzing metropolis of Kamloops, BC!  And, let me tell you, when your world for the last month and a half has been 200acres, 15 people and a bunch of animals, Kamloops definitely feels like a proper, big city. 

I suppose I expected (and my boyfriend, Ryan, certainly expected) that I would want to do girly, clean(!!!), less manure related, city things like hanging out at posh cafes drinking specialty coffees, catching a movie, getting my hair or nails or something done, but I found myself dragging Ryan from western wear store to tack shop and then right out of the city to go camping.  I guess my time here in the middle of nowhere has completed my transformation from city girl to outdoor, mud-up-to-my-knees-and-I-don’t-even-care, cowboy hat and blingy belt loving, western ranch girl. 

Camping anyone?

Ryan, the bushman that he is, isn’t complaining about my newfound animosity towards cities and I’ve realized what most people realize when they come to places like this ranch—the wilderness is where humans are at their best.  We thrive in the nature and when we figure that out there’s no going back. 

Pretty hard to leave a face like this!

Ranch Babies!

Spring on a ranch means babies!  Baby everything from ducks on the lake to calves and chicks.  Even the garden is in baby mode--seedlings and baby greens everywhere! 

This is Olivia and the first calf of the season! He is not even a day old in the photo.

Most babies have mothers to care for them; we didn't even know Olivia the cow had given birth for a couple of days because cows are so self-sufficient.  But when you order 30 chicks to eventually build up the numbers of laying hens, they don't come with built-in-mommies.  And so, the wranglers here at the ranch stepped in to fill the role.  First, I should clarify for you non-country folk, that when I say 'order 30 chicks', I actually mean order 30 chicks!  They arrive in the mail, in a box, all pilled on top of one another, and as long as they arrive at their destination and get under a heat lamp within 24 hours of hatching they should be fine.  Talk about hearty animals!   

When these chicks arrived at the ranch they were tiny little fluff balls, barely opening their eyes and completely useless.  We built them a brooder out of an unused water trough, towels and a heat lamp, got them water and 'chick starter' feed and then began acting as chicken mommies.  Being a chicken mommy means keeping the chicks really warm, making sure they have a clean home, lots of water and food and picking the crusty poo from their anuses to make sure they don't get clogged up and die.  Yes, you read that right.  We had to pick the crusty poo from their little chicky bums with our finger nails and wet paper towel.  Don't ask me how the real chicken moms do this but as human chicken moms it is an imperative part of raising chicks.  It is also, really gross.  But, we had a pretty good first few days and most of the mail-order chicks survived past the highest risk time.  Now they are happily learning to scratch and flutter around with less human chicken mommy help.   YAY!  

Hopefully none of the other ranch babies need quite so much help!

The piggies!  

Cowboys are Basically Country Hipsters.

Last weekend was the Clinton BC rodeo!  Yeehaw!  Unfortunately, the crew here at the ranch are busy working during the days, so we missed the day time events but, after the roping, barrel racing and bronc riding is done most rodeos will have a big dance and a group of us pilled into a couple trucks and headed into "town" for the rodeo dance!   

I didn't quite know what I was getting into going to a rodeo dance, but as I watched the cowgirls and boys of the group getting ready to go I started to get the feeling that this was going to be something special.  The boots got shined, the nice starched shirts came off hangers and all manner of 'blinged-out' accessories were added to the fancy country outfits.  Bejewelled belts, embroidered shirts, and the 'nice' hats came out.  Then it was a one and a half hour mud-bogging drive to the rodeo grounds (for us city folk who think that 30 minutes is far away, a 90 minute drive to a party seems a bit much…but in the country nobody seems to notice the cost of fuel or the 3 hours of travel for 3 hours of fun) where our big muddy trucks fit right in.  So did our cowboys and girls!  We walked into the barn and all I could see was all the ways this party was nothing like the parties where I come from.  First of all, the venue: we were in a barn with sand on the ground and plywood laid down for a dance floor.  Mice were running around wondering why nobody told them we were going to party in their house this weekend.  Secondly the attire, and I know I've already written about the country style but I can't help doing it again--it's so strange to me!  Men were walking around, at night, in doors wearing huge hats.  Please, someone explain this to me!  I've learned to love my cowboy hat for keeping the sun out of my eyes and the rain off my neck….but at night? In doors?  My boss, a true cowgirl, says that cowboys wear their hats all the time because it's guaranteed to make the face under the hat 75% more handsome.  It just seems impractical to me.  And the belt buckles so big they could keep a man dry on a rainy day--really necessary?  I think they probably act to weigh down the jeans more than keep them up.  In general the whole idea of wearing 'town clothes' that are basically clean, sparkly versions of outdoor ranch clothes to party in seemed strange to me.  

                                      The country music band who rocked the barn all night!

As the night went on, however, I started thinking about city folk and, in particular, the hipster phenomenon.  I realized that maybe cowboys and hipsters aren't so different really.  They both pay tribute to a bygone era, they both wear completely silly clothing in every situation no matter what makes sense (hats and boots are to the cowboy as glasses without prescriptions and scarves in August are to the hipster) and they really don't care what anyone thinks about it.   So, maybe my new world isn't so different from my city world and maybe people everywhere are all the same, just wearing different outfits.