Week Without Water and Another Blizzard

I think we're having another '49er. It is snowing again. Snow on top of snowdrifts. I might need a snowcat to get out of here soon. The last time I blogged, a blizzard was setting in and my water pump had quit. I called the man who installed the pump about thirteen years ago when I bought the place. He agreed it was probably the pump that had gone out, because when I opened the well house and stuck my ear down there, it sounded like the pump was trying to cycle. He's my neighbor about 20 miles away and a friend, but he has since gone out of the water well repair business. He did recommend the young man who bought his truck and equipment.
I called that guy, but we both knew he would be unable to come until after the weather cleared. I had a small amount of drinking water stored for just such an emergency, but to flush the toilet, I had to carry five-gallon buckets of water from the barn where I had a stock tank filled with a heater in it. I built up the muscles in my arms carrying water around the snowdrifts for the remainder of the week. On Sunday, I had to return to the city for my job for the week. I was actually glad to be going, for once. Running hot and cold water is truly a blessing to be cherished.
My work week was cut short, however, so I could be home on Friday to meet the well-service technician. I returned to the ranch to find snow drifts still pretty much as I had left them. They had receeded some, but not much. The weather report said there was another front coming Friday about noon. I called the well guy to confirm he was coming on Friday. He said he would and asked what time he should be here. I told him to plan it for morning because of the weather. He said he'd be here about 9 a.m.
When I got up on Friday, the sky was cloudy and ominous. I watched the clock and prayed for the storm to hold off. About 8 a.m., it began raining and as rain turned to big wet flakes of snow, the well guy got here. He was looking for a way to back his well-pulling rig up to my well, which is right beside the house, but there were snowdrifts blocking every avenue.
He climbed down into the well house and began doing some electrical checks. Within minutes, he asked his wife to get him some pliers and emerged from the well with a paper cartridge fuse in pieces and so corroded, he couldn't read the amperage. He changed the fuse, the control box, which was also very corroded, and put on a new pressure gauge so he could see what his results were, then asked me to turn on a hydrant. Sweet SUCCESS! Praise God. I wanted to kiss the man and his wife, too.
I didn't think to check the fuse because of the humming sound coming from the vicinity of the pump. I thought the pump was trying to cycle. After the fix was in, I remembered my friend telling me to lay in a stock of those fuses, which I remember doing, but now I don't have a clue where they went, following two moves and a few years of renters in the house.
However, I think there will be some preventive maintenance done on the well pump this summer sometime. You don't miss something until you don't have it.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the snow has come down steadily for two days now. I was floundering through drifts up to my thighs this morning (April 5) getting out to feed horses. I was rewarded by their appreciation for being fed, though. They were very grateful.

Easter Blizzard (a little early)

This was the view from my kitchen window almost all day Monday and Tuesday this week, as a big storm system blanketed the state. Wyoming nearly always has a bad spring blizzard around Easter time, and it hit a little early this year. Or, at least I hope this is it and we don't have another. Sunday was calm and the temperature was about 70 degrees when I got home from church, but all the weather reports said we had a bad storm coming. So I hurried up to ride the horse I am getting ready to sell in the early afternoon, and then I split up enough wood to last a few days. By the time I got all that done, the sky in the southwest was becoming darker and it looked and smelled like rain coming.
Before I went to bed, I could hear the rain on the windows. I slept well, knowing I was ready this time, and grateful to God for the moisture, which I knew would make the grass start to pop. The rain turned to sleet in the night and it awakened me to hear it pinging against the window above my head. I could hear the wind beginning to whine around the house. Sleet turned to snow about 7 a.m. After chores I settled in the house to work on laundry and other domestics for the day. The washer filled once as I built a fire in the stove. I went to fill the stovetop teakettle to put some moisture into the air. As I did so, the water flowing from the tap just slowed down and stopped!
So here I am, snowed in and not much water to do those domestic chores. I did have some drinking water stored up in various forms and the hot water heater is full. It's times like these that make me glad I live alone. I can get by. A country girl can survive. House cleaning can wait.
The blizzard only got worse as the day wore on. The wind came up to a steady 40 mph or so and the snow just kept coming sideways with drifts forming off the corners of the garage, house and any other sheltered place on the southeast sides of things. I worried about the mare herd that had not come in from the upper pasture, but I was not about to try to check on them. I went out to check on the youngsters in the corral and feed my old guy and I could hardly see. It was a white-out. When I went out again just before dark, the mares had come in to find shelter and were hoping for food, also. I gave them some and shut them in to keep them safe.
The wind died down at times throughout the night, but the snow kept falling until we had drifts of up to four feet deep. Here is a picture of my flat-bed trailer with one remaining big round bale of hay on it. The snow is level with the deck of the trailer. I checked the internet as soon as I got up and it showed the storm was almost to blow by, so I waited to go out to do chores, knowing all the horses were ok. Soon the sun was trying to peek through and the wind was settling down. The first time I went out, it was very cold, however, and the wind was still whipping snow in my face. The temperature had been hovering around +20 deg. since the storm got here. By nine thirty a.m., it had risen to nearly +30.
My water pump seems to be shelled out, so I guess I will be going to the creek for water, or melting snow! There is a large snowdrift blocking the driveway. I am certainly glad I was not scheduled to work until Friday when it is supposed to be sunny and mild again. I heard on the Casper radio the storm was accompanied by nearly an inch of moisture, praise God. We needed it. Maybe I should go buy some haying equipment, then I can quit my day job. Better get the well fixed first!

Furnace Follies

I've been having fun with furnaces and tractors. I think God played a trick on me. I always wanted to be like the boys and do whatever I saw them doing. Well now I have to. My furnace started acting up in December, right before the kids were due to come home for Christmas.
I have two 500 gallon propane tanks tied together for increased storage, so I can take advantage of seasonally low prices on heating fuel. I had them filled in August when the price per gallon was $2.00. Not a very seasonal low, I must say. At any rate, the first tank was getting low after an extreme cold snap the first part of December, so I switched into the second tank. My furnace immediately became a fire-breathing dragon in the basement. It would huff so hard upon ignition sometimes it would blow out the standing pilot light. I thought at first it was the wind blowing out the pilot, so I climbed up on the roof and put a five-gallon bucket over the furnace vent. That didn't seem to help. I would come home from being at my male-dominated workplace (yes, another trick God played on me) and the furnace would be out; not a good situation with outside temperatures hovering around -20 degrees F.
So I started through my troubleshooting list. Thinking because the problem began when I switched tanks, it must be the high pressure regulator on the tank itself, I change that regulator. Problem continues. I order a new control valve for the furnace and change that, problem continues. After some Internet research, I deduct the burners might be dirty, so I pull the whole furnace apart and clean said burners and the firebox on the furnace. Problem continues, so I call the propane man to come fill the other tank from which I was pulling before the problem began. He made me put the old regulator back on the tank and told me it "had" to be a problem with the low pressure regulator on the outside of the house. I change that. Problem continues. I am at my wit's end.
I finally call my brother-in-law who owns a heating and cooling business 100 miles away. After describing the problem to him, his first reaction is that the furnace has a cracked firebox. Since I had examined the firebox pretty closely while cleaning it, I go on telling him the symptoms. He and I together deduct that I had a bad control valve and I got a bad control valve. He orders me another one.
In the meantime, I am home mostly just monitoring the fire-breathing dragon in the basement, as it is getting worse and worse, and keeping the wood stove and electric heaters I had placed around the house going. Sometimes the furnace would huff so hard upon ignition, it would shoot flames out of the furnace and kind of shake the house!
The new control valve finally gets here two days before I am due to return to my job away from the ranch. I drive round-trip 120 miles to get it and I get it installed about 24 hours before I have to leave. What a relief, though, to have the furnace functioning normally again. I could hardly believe, when I got home after being away at work for a few days, the pilot was still aflame. The beast in the basement is tamed. At first, I had to check to make sure it was still working because it was operating so much more quietly.
About the tractor next time...still a work in progress or regress, whichever.

Warrior Dolly and Warrior JD

Sorry I've been gone from the blogosphere for so long. It's just that my new part-time job is taking up a lot of my time. I am working every other week away from the ranch, so it seems I spend most of the weeks in between getting stuff done so I will be ready to go back to work the next week. It's a vicious circle, as the work-a-day world just is.
But, I like my new job. It's pretty much the same old job I did for 23 years, only for a new company. The new guys are all great to work with, and even some of the old ones I worked with before seem glad that I am back, so it's pretty pleasant so far. The only things I worry about are my horses and if everything is ok back at the ranch. I fill up the feeders and waterers before I leave, and leave Nacho, the dog, with my sister. Everything has been fine, so far.
But Jana and Chexy's breaking in is on the back-burner for now, at least through the holidays. I might get in a ride or two while my son is here visiting. I retrieved his mount from some dear friends of mine from Cheyenne Cowboy Church, who had boarded her in return for being able to use her for about four years. They took great care of her. Here's Dolly as a foal. She's a nine year-old registered Quarter Horse whose registered name is Warrior Dolly. Her lineage traces through Hot Warrior back to Seneca Warrior and Hot Foot Bar on her top side with Zan Parr Bar and Hancock Twist on her bottom.
She's a sweet mare and a joy to ride. Anyone can ride her. She loves to work cattle. I told my friend when I left her with him she didn't know much. He had some neighbors who asked him to come help gather and work off calves for weaning, and he told them he would, but that the horse didn't know much. He said he rode her out amongst them, and she just put her head down and went to work, almost doing it all herself. He said the neighbor's mouths fell open and they said, "Thought you said that horse didn't know much!"
So I'm looking forward to a reunion of a soldier with his horse. My son has been in the US Army for a little over eight years. He has just separated from the service this fall, as a Staff Sargeant wearing a Green Beret. Dolly was only a year old when he inducted, and my son owned a half-brother to her that was killed a few months after he left for basic training, so I gave him Dolly to replace the gelding that he loved. Dolly has many of the same characteristics that Shy had, so I know he's going to love her, too, he already does.
Merry Christmas.

Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go

Old pipe liners never die; they just keep monkeying with their wrenches! My Thoreauian experiment living in the wilderness lasted about as long as Henry's. I loved being retired, living and working on my little ranch with the horses. I knew the money was going to be tight when I moved home, but I hadn't counted on prices for propane, electricity, insurance, gasoline and groceries all increasing at a phenomenal pace. I also hadn't anticipated the stock market crash and losing over 100K from my little retirement fund. When a former colleague called offering me a part-time job back on the pipelines, I jumped at it.
I had been looking for work here in the smallest county in the USA almost since I moved home, but opportunities are few and jumped on by many. The great thing about my new job is that they offered to pay mileage from the ranch, so I can base here, and per-diem when I have to stay elsewhere, so that made it workable. I thought I had erased all that data from my memory bank, but it all started coming back. I guess after 23 years, it's kind of etched in the old hard drive. All the old crew seemed happy to have me back, and the new guys were all friendly and helpful. I guess they are happy not to have to spend a lot of time training someone.
I will be working ten days a month, so that means I will still have twenty days a month at the ranch.
The weather has been fantastic this fall. I rode Jana again today, and I am so pleased with the way she is progressing. She stands still for saddling and mounting. She now knows what "whoa" means, backs when asked, and is starting to neck rein a little. Today I started working on side passing some. She doesn't like that, but I can reach out, open a gate while on her back, and ride through it. She's going to make some lucky kid a wonderful riding friend.
The fillies are growing like crazy. They are all getting gentler every day as I feed them and brush and mess around with them.

Chexy's Breaking In

Chexy is a three year-old Quarter Horse filly that I acquired in a trade deal with my horse tradin' friend. I have just begun to work with her to get her used to the idea of having a rider on her back and doing as she is told. At left is a picture of her wearing the saddle for the first time. She wasn't too keen on the idea of wearing a saddle. She pitched it off a couple of times when I started to saddle her. Eventually I got it on her and strapped down with the cinch, and then she acted like it was no big deal.
The second time I went to saddle her, she was having no part of that, so I decided I'd best go to the basics, square one, and pretend that she had never been handled before. I put her in the round pen and started wiggling a Walmart plastic bag tied to the end of a buggy whip at her. She nearly went into orbit. I thought she'd calm down after a short time, but 20 minutes later, she was still doing laps around the round pen at a gallop. I confined her a little tighter and went at her with the dreaded horse getter bag. She tried to knock the pen down when she found she couldn't get away from it. She thought about trying to climb out a time or two, but I would just raise the bag in front of her face, and she would think otherwise. After about ten minutes of this treatment, she finally stood there and let me touch her with the bag. I guess I would call this part, "sacking out." In the old days we used to do it with a burlap bag or the saddle blanket.
Today, I caught her again and led her to the round pen. She balked at the gate, knowing something dreadful was going to happen in there. I led her over to the saddle and blanket lying near the center of the pen. When I picked up the blanket, I showed it to her and let her sniff it, then placed it on her back. She tossed up her head and bolted. I just let her. Then I got the horse-eating whip with the Walmart bag still tied to it and gave her all the more reason to run. She ran for about 20 minutes before she finally decided to let me get near with the bag/whip. Pretty soon, she was standing still while I rubbed her all over with the Walmart bag. It had become more tolerable than the running.
Then I led her back over to the saddle and blanket. I placed the blanket on her back again and rubbed it up and down her neck to just behind her ears and let her wear it there for a few minutes. She didn't flinch. I slid it back into place on her back, then picked up the saddle. I let her sniff the saddle, then went calmly up to her left side and set it on her back. She just decided to quit resisting and stood quietly as I cinched it loosely on her back. I led her off--nothing, not a jump, not a hump. Again, she acted like it was not a big deal.
I trimmed all four of her feet, since we'd had some moisture to soften them. She stood for that pretty well, although whenever she took a foot away from me, I would make her do a few laps around the round pen. When I finished up with her feet, I got the bag/whip again and flicked it all around her body. Chexy just stood there, hardly even flinching. It was like she was saying, "You can't make me run!"
I rewarded her by turning her loose and giving her some hay. I think this mare is going to do just fine, she's just going to take a bit longer than the ones out of my old stallion, because she has a little "hotter" disposition. She has a lot of cutting horse blood in her, which, according to my daughter, makes them fighters. But in the end, she will make a fine cow horse. I am looking forward to her being the first horse I have trained from start to finish in about seven years now.
Speaking of which, my fun retirement is about to come to an end. I was offered a part-time job on the pipe line filling in for the guys I used to work with when they need a day off. Since the horse market has been in the basement for a couple years and my retirement fund taking a licking in the stock market, I decided I'd best jump at the chance to work for wages once again. I am grateful it is only part-time, though and I will be able to spend time with Chexy...and Jana...and King...and Dixie...and, and, and!

Riding Weather

I rode Jana Jet Jones for the first time today.
I have had this six-year-old red dun mare for about three years. She was abused as a youngster and then her owner bred her as a three year old, so her growth is stunted. I bought her shortly after he bred her at age three, basically to rescue her. She had a nice little sorrel filly foal about nine months after I bought her and Dixie is another story for another post.
When I weaned her filly, I sent her to a trainer to start her under saddle because I still had a full time job and two homes 150 miles apart to care for. She was with this trainer for several months, but I don't think she was ridden much, if any.
She has a funny personality for a horse. She is a touch-me-not until you get her caught, then she immensely likes attention such as brushing and petting. She fought me tooth and nail a couple times before when I was attempting to trim her hooves, but we worked through that trauma and now she is pretty good about her feet--once you get her caught.
So I bridled and saddled her today. I used a ring snaffle on her because that is the most forgiving bit there is. She resisted the bit for a while, and I just let her stand and get used to carrying it. Then I mounted her in a very small pen just in case she might want to pitch. They know they can't do much in a small enclosure, so they usually don't do much. She didn't offer to buck at all, but she was not giving to the bit and there really wasn't room to turn around well.
I took her to the 50' round pen and put some driving lines on her. I worked with her for about 20 minutes on moving out, stopping, and giving her head. She was pretty sweated up and her head had lowered to show she was receptive. I mounted up in the round pen. She still wasn't appreciating having to give her head to the direction of the piece of metal in her mouth, but she never tried to pitch. I rode her around the pen for about another ten minutes.
She's a small little mare, about 14.2 hands, with a very pretty head. She has Easy Jet, Smart Little Lena, and Pa Jones in her background, so she should have some speed and I think she will make a wonderful little pony for some lucky kid...maybe my grandson! She's a little stubborn, but usually those make the best mounts because they have a lot of try. Plus, she is a proven producer, having delivered another fine filly foal this spring to go with the one she was carrying when I bought her.