Welcome to the West as I see it

By Julie Carter

Having secured a sort of left-handed proposal of marriage from her cowboy last Sadie Hawkins’ Day, the soon-to-be-bride began to work on her Hope Chest.

You don’t hear much about that tradition in this day and time, but pragmatic future brides of cowboys still know the wisdom of having a few essentials before the check book becomes his sole territory.

While shopping for linens at Big Lots, this prospective blushing bride found a fantastic world-beater bargain in paper towels. She had already decided that the reception menu would include barbeque ribs, beans and potato salad so paper towels would be a priority.

The ones on sale just happened to be decorated with orange and turquoise designs which inspired her to select those colors for here wedding theme.

As planning progressed, she found the perfect dress. It fit, was in her price range and was bright orange. Nobody was going to miss her at this fiesta.

The bridesmaids’ dresses arrived in a stunning shade of turquoise. There was a slight hitch as one of the bridesmaids ordered hers in a size smaller than actually required.

The bridesmaid’s Plan A involved a diet before the wedding. The bride’s Plan B was to line up a cousin who was the right size.

Her cowboy was not as totally committed to this project as she would have liked, and in an effort to get him involved, she decided they should each write their own vows.

Her vows were very lovely prose, mentioning hearts, flowers, lifelong commitment, a steady partner and love eternal. When his were finally, reluctantly, presented for inspection, she was somewhat taken aback.

The only thing he had planned on saying was “I do. Let’s party.”

Of course, they were going to be married outside on the hill overlooking the ranch. The setting would be beautiful. Concerned about her dress, the bride borrowed the long carpet used for the sidewalk at the Post Office to walk down the aisle.

The boom box was tested and required only an occasional slap on the side to keep it playing. Waylon and Willie would do fine.

Helpful neighbors had designated who was to carry the shotgun, who was to usher the guests away from the keg and to seating, who was to keep the dogs quiet during the ceremony and who was to dig the pit for the barbeque.

For quite some time the bride had been waiting for a ring to appear. On their next trip to a real town she borrowed her cowboy’s credit card and headed to the nearest wholesale jewelers. There she bought a ring that fit perfectly and looked almost authentic.

Only detail left was to line up a few married cowboy friends to watch her groom. That faraway look in his eyes was beginning to be worrisome. She knew that married males would be more dependable. Something about “if I can cowboy-up, so can he.”

After all, the bride-to-be was a good cook and these guys liked good food. They also knew they’d be eating regularly at the new couple’s outfit when they neighbored at cattle workings. Certainly, it was smart plan to make sure he married somebody that could cook.

Her good cooking won the heart of her cowboy and the loyalty of the neighbors. Never underestimate the power of a perfect chicken fried steak and good gravy.

Julie Carter
Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Most folks think that if a cowboy has a brain, he wears it under his hat.
Truth of the matter is everything of importance that he might know is
written in a little book carried in his shirt pocket. In fact, it’s been
said that was very reason for inventing pockets for shirts – that and a
place to carry cigarette papers and a bag of Bull Durham.

The tally book usually sports an embossed name on the cover endorsing the
company that provided it to the cowboy. This is typically a bank that has
a vested interest in the cowboy keeping track of his business.

It’s his little black book, often red or green, but has little if
anything to do with collecting phone numbers of girls, albeit there is
occasionally a need to jot one of those down.

Preprinted dates and categories in the book mean nothing. The cowboy
keeps his own style of books and may mark the spot he needs to turn to
often with a folded dollar bill or a toothpick.

The data that may set the course for risk management, purchases, hedging,
selling or retained ownership could ultimately end up on some computer
run by a guy in high-water britches and a pocket full of mechanical
pencils. However, the origin of all cattle information is recorded first
in the cowboy’s tally book.

Similarities to methods and information end there. The detailed cowboy
will record the exact date cattle were purchased, their weight and price
per pound. He’ll record when they were moved from one place to the other
and give an estimated weight based in prior knowledge of gain per day in
a specific pasture.

Death loss will be noted and counts corrected. Medicine given is
accounted for, as are dates, amounts and types of feed and
supplementation.

Dates are noted when the bulls are turned in with cows, how many, where
and when they were pulled back out of the pastures.

At branding time, numbers of new baby heifers and steers calves are
recorded from each pasture and how many are left as bull calves. Those
same calves’ weaning weights and price per pound will be recorded in the
fall, giving historical value to the tally books that end up in a desk or
dresser drawer to be found by the generations to come.

A few pages may be dedicated to phone numbers for the feed salesman,
parts house, veterinarian and fuel dealer. Others will detail well
information, pump jacks and windmills, including when it was last pulled,
if new leathers were put in place and when pipe or sucker rod was
replaced.

The personal nature of the business showed up when the cowboy recorded
information about a particular cow, one of a thousand, like it was
someone he knew personally. The notation would read, “White-faced cow,
short in the hind quarters, 3 years old, late to breed, check next year.”
Or “motley-faced cow, horn cut, open last spring, light bred
now.

All this critical information in one little book that, in theory, is
close at hand and available, always.

But things happen. If he bends over a drinker to fix a broken float and
the pocket flap wasn’t snapped, the book falls in the water and it’s a
cussing-fit accident.If the little woman snags up his dirty shirt off the
floor at the end of the day and loads it in the washing machine without
first checking the pockets, it’s the end of the free world.

There’s no question, there are now computer cowboys who ride a variety of
noisy,expensive motorized “horses,” but even so, they still have a little
tally book in their shirt pocket. Likely, right next to their BlackBerry
smart phones.