We’re grateful for our kids everyday, and this mama is especially grateful for active helpers in all we do!
Peanut the calf–all 35 pounds of her–is lucky to have our peanuts taking good care of her!
Our daughter can be great help, especially when it comes to bedding down the kids’ show animals!
From baking to decorating, these kids have right to be proud of their fondant covered layer cake!
#MooovingMonday #WeAreRanchers
When your home is also a vet clinic, animal sick ward, coffee shop, conference room, office, and ranch supply warehouse, it can be easy to get lost in the daily grind of farming and ranching.
But, if you’re paying attention, you get the opportunity to pick your head up and see some really special moments. If you’re lucky, you’ll capture those moments in a photo.
Several moments this week were absolutely God-sent; they reminded me why this ranch life chose me long before I chose it!
The future of agriculture lies in the hands and minds of our children. If you’ve lost track of the “why” behind the “what” of ranching, take part in an event where kids teach kids about agriculture!
#NationalAgWeek #iLiveIt #WeAreRanchers
Sharing your story is SO important!
Our rural lifestyles can be so isolating; it’s important to know others share our experiences–inspirational, tragic, joyful, and everything in between.
I commend these families for sharing even as my heart hurts for their losses.
Read about the dangers of carbon monoxide here.
I enjoy debate and make our kids justify their positions often.
The wheels are always turning in this little one’s mind!
Tonight, our kindergartener offered up his three reasons for going to school through the summer instead of through winter:
1) Not all kids have warm, winter clothes, so getting to school is dangerous for them.
2) There would be no make-up days because school is safer than our house in a tornado.
3) Feeding cattle, playing at home, and going to sales would be a way more fun vacation than “melting” in all the outside work of summer. đ
#SundayNightBlues #RanchKidsRock #WeAreRanchers
Snapshots of “everyday” life are some of my favorite to take and share; these are the moments I take for granted too often and will surely treasure most as the years pass!
Assessing the situation. We had a small group of calves to sort based on size, and Dad agreed to let the kids be in charge. It wasn’t fast or pretty, but they got it done without much help!
A frosty cold morning makes for pretty pictures!
Beauty lies where we are willing to look.
Big day at the Blum Ranch … January 25 was sale day!
Our first loads of steer calves went to the auction barn today. These guys have been part of our ranch family since their conception about 18 months ago.
Our trucker–who is a neighbor and friend–finalizes the sale day plan with my husband and father-in-law.
A pretty start to sale day.
#TheRealRancher takes stock of our stock.
Smiles keep you warm on cold days and make all jobs better!
My father-in-law remains an active part of our ranch. At 80 years old, he now reaps the reward of his sacrifices by choosing which jobs he wants!
Follow “The Writing Rancher” on Facebook for more every day happenings!
After the New Yearâs Eve matinee, our little family loaded into the pickup and happily chit-chatted over how cute our favorite bedtime book, Ferdinand, was as a big screen movie. Before leaving town, I pointed at one of the three gas stations in sight, told my husband about the discount we get there, and subtly suggested he fill up.
Jay passed the filling station while assuring me we had plenty of petrol to cross the river. After all, he prefers filling up on the west side ⌠you know, in Godâs country where the grass is greener, and vehicles never run out of gas.
Guess what? He was wrong, and I took the opportunity to remind him I was rightânot so subtly either.
With my nagging surely fueling the pickup miles beyond its actual capacity, we puttered up two hills and came to a stop with the gas station in sight. At 15 degrees below zero and dropping quickly, the man in charge hoofed it to the station ⌠also most assuredly fueled by my nagging and his desire for it to stop.
I calmed down as quickly as I got fired up, and before we arrived home, all was again copasetic.
Our New Yearâs Eve âevent,â as it shall forever be referred, didnât ruin the ending of one year or start a new year off on a bad note. It was an unpleasant moment in the day, but it wasnât a bad day.
The event reminded me of a quote from unknown origins, âDo not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.â
If you had walked into our life during the 30 minutes of our New Yearâs Eve event, you wouldnât have been humored or impressed by any part of what you saw. Poor planning, bad attitudes, and no gratitudeâa trifecta of mediocrity.
Luckily, that chapter of our story was a short one. A mere fleck of fly poo on lifeâs great big windshield. But, if thatâs all you had seen of us, thereâs a chance you wouldnât have wanted to see more. If you had judged us on that moment in time, you would have done so without context or a sense of our whole story.
On the flip side, our Christmas Day was picturesque. Our children fulfilled Santaâs wish to work as a team before waking Mom and Dad. They were adorable images of excitement and gratitude when opening gifts. Chores went smoothly and quickly. Our home was clean and festive. My wedding China and themed wine glasses were arranged in a proper place setting right from a magazine. The prime rib came out of the oven with a glorious smell, a gorgeous color, and a perfectly rare temperature.
It was a moment worthy Norman Rockwellâs finest interpretation.
You know what else it was? Only a moment. If you had judged our story based on that moment, your perception of who we are would have been totally different. It also would have been wrong.
The truth is we are somewhere in the middle of a flat mess and a beautiful Hallmark moment. And, Iâd bet you arenât much different.
As a new year dawns, I find it incredibly important to reflect and plan but not at the risk of judging ourselves or our businesses based on the moment. We write our stories one page at a time, and those pages turn into chapters. Some long and difficult. Others short and sweet. But none mutually exclusive.
Perhaps the greatest gift we can give ourselves in a new year is the gift of perspective. Where each of us is right now in our business or personal life doesnât define who we are but rather contributes to the story of where weâve been and where we have yet to go.
I donât know where youâre at right now in your lifeâs story, but I hope youâre at a place where you can see value in where youâve been and joy in where youâre going.
If thatâs not the case, donât despair. Personally, I feel a lot like our pickup on New Yearâs Eveâcold, old, and out of gas. Iâll need to give myself some grace and attention in the coming months. Iâve let too much bog me down, but I know this chapter is merely part of a greater story. Iâll get back to a recharged battery and a full tank of gas. So, will you as long we donât judge each other or ourselves on merely a moment in time.
âWhat lies behind you and before you is not as important as what lies within you.â ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Glittery, unscathed blankets of snow cover the earth. Lights cast a warm, serene glow upon anything within their raysâ reach. Bright stars glow in a clear sky, illuminating a vast landscape. The low sounds of livestock and varied sounds of night animals harmonize with the beautiful silence.
The otherwise common winter scenes occasionally combine to create one of the most magical, mystical Christmas calms I can imagine. To me, the idyllic scene epitomizes the purity, complexity, and meaning of the Christmas season. I feel stronger in faith and more peaceful in heart when I can witness such special moments.
Of course, as cattlemen and women, we know the reality behind the romantic image of a country Christmas.
The blankets of snow mean extra work to keep cattle well-fed and protected. Glowing lights often mean working outdoors after dark to catch up, keep up, or fix up. Bright, clear skies indicate bitter cold night temps. Cattle lowing cause a momentary heart rate increase as we assess the reason for their soundâare they out; bothered by a coyote; restless as a sign of weather changes?
Perhaps, the reason I cherish the quiet calm of a country Christmas evening is because Christmas for us, and most likely you, doesnât include exotic holiday vacations or days inside filled with hot cocoa, a warm fire, and a good book.
Our Christmas celebrations hinge on tightly held traditions and how long the weather reasonably allows us to be away from the ranch. If we arenât careful, the special magic of the Christmas season can get lost in the reality of daily chores and endless lists.
My husband and I attempt to balance the needs of our family and our business. We work to prioritize our family while balancing the workload of a cattlemanâs life. Generally, our attempts fall short.
Though we try, our kids know we will be the last ones to church on Christmas Eve because of a âquick five-minute projectâ. They know we will marvel at Santaâs gifts, take turns opening family presents, and enjoy a special Christmas morning breakfast. Then, we will hustle through chores all the while praying we arenât too late for Christmas lunch with familyâŚeither near or far depending on the weather.
At the same time, we value Christmas traditions like letting the kids decorate the tree, attending Christmas Eve church services with family, and spending time with our loved ones. We cherish the perfectly romantic scene with glittery snow, bright lights, and serene calm.
Winston Churchill once said, âChristmas is a season not only of rejoicing but of reflection.â
I agree with the former prime minister.
A new year represents a fresh start. Itâs about looking ahead, but the Christmas season provides us a ripe opportunity to reflect.
Is there still magic in the headache and hassle of our businesses? Have we been able to maintain our passion for an often-thankless calling? Was the journey of the past year right for the journey ahead?
Though we must each answer those questions for ourselves, I believe itâs important to remember our strength as a collective. Together, we can have a unified voice. We have the power to perpetuate the beautifully romantic notions of a cattlemanâs life to the public all the while humanizing our work for greater understanding.
Iâm not oblivious to the raw challenges we face in this industry. Our family endures and perseveres right alongside yours. Yet, Iâm acutely aware of the beauty, opportunity, and necessity in what we do.
A Cattlemanâs Christmas is my favorite kind, and Iâm not sure weâd know how to act if Christmas (or any other occasion) wasnât influenced by cows.
As you celebrate in the coming days and weeks, I pray you take time to appreciate the romance, nostalgia, and promise in the Christmas season! After all, as W.T. Ellis once said, âIt is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.â
I’ve let work and life keep my blog writing silent for what has ended up being months … oops! Below is my recent column as printed in the Charolais Country, a quarterly insert in Cattle Business Weekly. Cheers for a new day and the gift of new beginnings!
As summer winds down, our family finds itself in a common situation ⌠the end of a season, the sadness of good-byes mixed with the hope of a new year.
Iâm nostalgic, dare I say, overly soft-hearted, so I feel every emotion of this end-of-summer season deeply. Our kids made new friends. They had new experiences. We enjoyed the unscheduled craziness of a full schedule.
Alas, the end of August found us sending our twins off to fourth grade and our middle son into third grade. We even sent our youngest off to experience the world as a kindergarten student. Talk about a moment of nostalgia!
The beginning of school signifies the end of summer to many families, but the South Dakota State Fair marks the end of a season for us.
Our children have bonded with their three calves over the past 11 months. Heck, we all bonded with the critters. Silly as some find it, I will not be the one hauling steers to market; even though our butcher likes me, Iâm sure he prefers not to watch grown women cry at drop-off!
While the calves grew, we all know they arenât what grew most. What grew most importantly was our family, our children. Each of our kids took on responsibilities I couldnât imagine last September. They became stronger in their likes and more capable in their abilities. We saw our four children grow physically, emotionally, and spiritually; there has been a lot to be grateful for. Of course, it wasnât all roses.
We had ugly days. Days where no one liked each other or the animals in our care. Days when Mom pondered return to a town job, Dad threatened to put show calves in the feedlot, and kids wondered what it might be like to spend their days at the pool or baseball diamond. But, the work was done anyway.
We also had beautiful days. Days where our hearts swelled with pride as our children overcame a challenge or realized a goal. Days where the only things to see were positive and the way to accomplish everything was as a team. And, the work was done anyway.
We even had mediocre days. Days where everyone was burnt out or overwhelmed and didnât go the extra mile. Days where conversations were short, faces were long, and naps were required. But, the necessary work was done anyway.
There was a lot to learn about the importance of gratitude coupled with a good attitude.
This was also the first summer where Iâve had a glimpse into the future. A future where the kids donât need us to reach a topline with the blower or to stack the hay bales or to harp on them for every little detail. Itâs a mixed bag, folks.
Personally, I am more grateful at 38 for my parents and all they still do to help and support us kids than I ever could have been at eight or 18. So, Iâm sure our kids will always need my husband and me to some extent, and I like to think there will be a time when they appreciate our help.
Yet, there is a seasonâs end on the distant horizon.
I can see with both hope and sadness a time when our children spread their wings and fly their individual paths ⌠paths I canât predict but know those of us who love them most will work hard to prepare them to travel.
For the most part, Iâm excited to discover what lies ahead for our children. Iâm anxious to see where they go, who they become, and how they do it all. Like any parent, I worry plenty, but mostly, I look forward to what lies ahead.
As I reflect on the summer and look ahead to the future, I canât help but think our familyâs small-scale summer experiences serve as a parallel for the ag industry.
This has been a tough year to put it mildly. Fires ravaged the south and west, devastating families in the most unimaginable ways. Drought struck the Midwest leaving many producers little option but to drastically reduce herd numbers. Each of our areas has its own stories of struggle.
Within this yearâs hardshipsâwhatever those struggles have beenâwe producers have had a glimpse into the future. Iâd wager there were, and continue to be, sightings of hope coupled with moments of mind-numbing sadness.
A life in agriculture is hard, knowing that is the simple part. But, for those who can keep marching forwardâeven if forward means a detourâwe know this life is worthwhile.
Well-known American journalist, author, and naturalist Hal Borland once said, âYearâs end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on with all the wisdom experience can instill in us.â
I find that most fitting as the seasonsâboth with life and weatherâchange. There has been much to learn in the past months, and there is much yet to come. Perhaps the key to treasuring it all is to enjoy the excitement of new beginnings rather than to dwell on the sadness of endings.
As my husband and I drove to the second of three funerals in a week, I had an epiphany.
No longer are we routinely gathering with friends to celebrate weddings, new careers, or first babies. Instead, weâve found ourselves gathering often with family and friends as we celebrate the lives of parents, grandparents, and other loved ones at prayer services and funerals.
Even our social outings have changed, as weâve apparently reached the stage where itâs fashionable to discuss estate and transition planning over dinner with a glass of wine.
My baby brother would say this is all because weâre old, but heâs a brat, and his turn is coming!
Alas, the reality is Iâm close enough to 40 to realize it feels like a mid-way point of sorts.
Iâm not one to get wrapped up in numbers, and Iâm certainly not starting now. Yet, I feel a new-found respect for the number of years we have on Earth.
My great aunt Mary recently passed away at age 91. She was a spirited, courageous woman with a deep love for family and a fearlessness for telling you what she thought. Maryâs beloved soul mate Bill died in 1992 after battling years of illness. While they didnât have biological children, they had all of us Duxbury clan, their Godchildren, and dear friends.
In our close family, both I and our children grew up with Aunt Mary as part of our lives. We each have fond memories and our own connection to the sharp-tonguedâyet grace-givingâwoman we loved.
Aunt Mary never asked anything of us. She was independent and thoughtful. Her family mattered, and we all knew it.
A piece of advice Iâve never forgotten came from Aunt Mary. She once told me, âThe best gift you can ever give someone, especially an old woman like me, is the gift of your time.â
I think we all know time is our most precious commodity; yet, to hear those words from a respected, loved elder carries much meaning.
Conversations focused on todayâs ag industry buzzwordsâestate and transition planningâneed to happen. The blunt reality of living means weâre also dying.
However, I hope weâre all working as thoughtfully at living life as we are for planning death.
Time is limited. We all know it. Yet, with young children, full schedules, and multi-million dollar businesses to run, itâs all too easy for one day to give way to the next before we even realize itâs gone.
Ranching is hard work. Itâs taxing on both the mind and body. While there are certainly times where ranching is also hard on families, it is an industry where family has the most opportunity to be celebrated.
Personally, I feel a deep connection to both my family and my husbandâs family when Iâm around the cattle or on the land they have worked tirelessly to foster. I feel our familiesâ roots in the soil. I see our familiesâ sacrifices, dedication, and dreams across each acre. There is pride, promise, and purpose in all our families have built.
The most precious component in all of it, however, is the time invested. That investment deserves respect, and one of the best ways to show respect is to give our time back.
Iâm extremely fortunate to be surrounded by generations of hardworking, intelligent, and caring people. There are many milestones and living celebrations to be had, but there will also be farewells.
Though we have businesses to account for and tend to, our family is more than dollars and cents. We are bound by tradition. We are motivated by heritage. In short, our legacy is measured by the time we give each other.
As we go headstrong into one of our industryâs busiest seasons, I hope we also take time to listen to the stories, to share our time. Business, moneyâit all matters for survival, but to truly live, we need the human connection only felt when we give the gift of time.
May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.
The Writing Rancher 