Blogs

The smell of sagebrush on a rare rainy afternoon as I ride horseback through the dry pasture. The strain of my shoulders as I pick lava rock from the 40-acre field. The clank of the tractor bucket as I toss that rock in.

If you’re really “hip” and in-the-know, like I am, you’ve no doubt heard the song Fancy Like by country artist Walker Hayes. The gist of the popular and catchy little ditty is that a feller, probably not entirely unlike me, sings his own praises for his occasional high-class ways when he takes his lady out on the town to Applebee’s.

For 5% hay, the stand of alfalfa in the field had to be robust. The guys pulling the soil sample and the guys prescribing the needed fertilizer had to hit it spot on. The herbicide had to take out all the weeds without stunting the growth of the alfalfa.

“What should I plant this year?”
“How often should I soil test?”
“Should I till before I plant?”

One of my family’s favorite holiday traditions is watching the National Finals Rodeo during December. It signals the start of the Christmas season for us.

While I’m a strong advocate of volunteerism, sometimes I think I’m involved in too much stuff. There are certain times of the year when that realization is more pronounced than others.