Round em up! Calf Sale Day Down on the Ranch #animals #farming

Here we are at that most welcome and dreaded time of the year: calf sale day. Welcome because the little buggers are eating us out of house and home, and dreaded because they're our friends. But, we're in the beef cattle business, and there's no income unless we sell our young, so today's the day.

Cows and ranching play a role in the Cass Elliot Crime Novels (sometimes an important one - in a future book, a cow patty helps catch a bad guy). Seems a natural thing, because both are such a big part of life in East Texas. Whether the old man has Hitch repairing fence, sorting heifers for the sale barn, or directing a work crew to brand and castrate calves, readers get an accurate peek at farm life.

Ranching is an expensive endeavor, particularly when it comes to equipment. We're a low capital venture - instead of buying heavy equipment like tractors and trailers, we manage day-to-day chores with a beat up old Kawasaki Mule and a hay dolly. (More on the hay dolly in another post.) We outsource cattle transport to the cowboys from Milford Livestock, owned and operated by Doug Milford.

Have you ever seen cowboys working a herd of cows? There's something magical about it. We raise our calves to be gentle, and we love the Milfords because they're so easy with our calves. But almost every year, we'll end up with one calf (usually a bull) who won't cooperate.

With anyone.

About anything.

(Except food. They always cooperate when it comes to food.)

We help our calves get comfortable with the loading pen by putting their feed trough inside it and leaving one end open. They come and go as they please, and follow the feed bucket into this 20' by 16' space. They'll even spend part of the day in the pen, laying around while chewing their cud (they do love that feed trough).

Most years, loading is pretty easy. The Milfords back up to the pen and we help them crowd the calves closer and closer to the open trailer gate until one calf jumps in. They're like lemmings at this point. Once one is inside, the rest follow.



Some years, things aren't as easy and the Milfords use their dogs to round the calves up - literally.

Mr. Milford controls them through a series of whistles and commands. These dogs know their jobs and have no fear about working around creatures so big in comparison to themselves.




They don't bark at the calves and they rarely nip, simply because they don't have to. They run in ever tightening circles around the calves until they're bunched together (rounded up), then ease the bunch towards the pen and the trailer.




On the rare occasion the cranky calf I mentioned above decides not to cooperate, he'll make a break for it and it'll take horses to catch him. Again, these animals are amazing. So are the cowboys who ride them, and it takes talent from man and horse to cowboy well.



Only once have we had a calf break through an electric fence, then through a barbed wire fence (I hate those things), and disappear into the woods. We have 160 acres, which is a lot of ground to cover when you're chasing one calf. The good news - or bad news depending on how you look at it - is that the adults in the herd join in the chase. That many cows running in one direction makes it easier to figure out where the calf has gone!

Once they're loaded, it's off to the sale barn and we cross our fingers for high prices. Some years are good for us and bad for steak lovers; other years are bad for us and good for steak lovers.

There you have it. The emotion, the drama of calf sale day. The funny part? Almost as soon as we load up the last batch of calves, a new batch starts dropping and the cycle begins again. It'll be time to call Mr. Milford before we know it.

Meet My Character Blog Tour - Maxine Leverman

I was lucky enough to be asked by Charles Dougherty (@clrdougherty) to introduce the main character from my current novel. Charles is probably best known for the Bluewater Thriller series, but my favorite book of his is a mystery called DECEPTION IN SAVANNAH. It has a great cast of characters and is loaded with a twisty plot that will have you laughing and dying to know who done it.

Be sure to meet the main characters from the Bluewater Thriller series on Charles' blog (click here), and at the end of this post, I'll introduce you to two new authors, so keep reading!

One of the things I love about writing a series is that I never know where the characters will take me. People often assume that my characters are an amalgamation of people I've known with a smidge of my personality thrown in, but this is rarely true. So far, my characters have arisen from the imaginary world I've created, Forney County, to fill a necessary role in the story. We need an insecure sheriff, and hey presto, Bill Hoffner is born and matures through the books. Characters rarely arrive fully loaded with an intact history; instead, I have the pleasure of learning about them as the stories, and then the series, unfolds.

Today I'm introducing a character who made herself known in the second Cass Elliot crime novel, AVENGERS OF BLOOD. Maxine Leverman appeared about halfway through the book, and once I finished writing, she wouldn't leave my head. So I decided to try and write her out of it. Will it work? She's turning out to be a persistent gal and I suspect she'll end up having a series of her own, but only time will tell.

Who is Maxine Leverman?

Maxine was born in 1985, the same year as Cass, which makes them both 26 in 2011, the year the first two Cass Elliot novels and Maxine's first book begin. She and Cass have known each other since childhood and in Maxine's words:

Cass Elliot is my best friend. Has been since, well, maybe not since before dirt, but certainly since we were eating dirt. Usually at her house. Mud pies tasted better there, probably thanks to something toxic in the soil.

Maxine married young and divorced her hedge fund managing husband after realizing he was a cross-dresser. She's making him pay for his love of lingerie, literally, and has no need of a job. On a weekend out partying after her divorce, she was drugged, raped, and marked with a scar that runs from her collar bone to beneath her breast. She and Cass lost touch during "the hedge fund years", but Maxine finally came to Cass in AVENGERS OF BLOOD, seeking help in finding the man who attacked her. She discovered that Cass has a similar scar on her chest; it seems they've been raped by the same man, although years apart.

After Cass is shot in AVENGERS OF BLOOD, Maxine decides to become a private investigator to work with Cass in finding and stopping their rapist.


When and where is the story set?

Maxine's first novel moves between the very fictional Arcadia located in Forney County in East Texas, and the very real Dallas, Texas. Maxine was born and raised in Arcadia but finds that even though she needs to come home to be closer to Cass, she can't leave her big city life behind. Thankfully, she has enough dirt on the cross-dressing ex-husband to fund comfortable homes in both locations.

The book is set in 2011, the year of Texas' worst drought in nearly a century. If you've read the Cass Elliot crime novels, you'll recognize many of the characters who turn up in Maxine's story. In a place as small as Arcadia, we're bound to bump into the same people now and again. But you'll also meet a host of new characters relevant to Maxine's life and this mystery.


What defines Maxine?

Maxine is ferociously headstrong and independent. Her father adored her but valued her older brother because he was the male child and therefore the heir to their family's oilfield business. She found herself competing for their father's recognition until his death when she was twelve. During their childhood and into their adult lives, their mother was absorbed in competing with her husband by building a successful custom furniture business.

This lack of attention and love drove Maxine into the bosom of the dysfunctional Elliot family. She spent much of her childhood in Cass's home, simply accepted as another of the many children racing through the house.

Maxine is defined by her gender, or more specifically by her father's belief that while girls are special, boys are worthy. Marriage to the hedge fund manager introduced her to power and money on a massive scale, and while she's more than financially secure thanks to his love of silk panties and the trust fund her father left her, she needs to build her own life, to find a path that allows her to be taken seriously. She's decided that the road to credibility lies in becoming a private investigator and working at the Lost and Found Detective Agency with her aunts, Kay and Babby, and her cousin Cindy.


What is the main conflict? What messes up her life?

Maxine is mouthy, impetuous, and overtly sexy. She's fully capable of messing up her own life, although circumstances outside her control have contrived to kick her occasionally. She surreptitiously takes a case on her first day at Lost and Found and decides to work it herself, assuming that finding a missing husband is a no-brainer. After all, she's had a husband, hasn't she? How hard can it be to find one that's gone astray?

From that decision, things go from bad to worse. When the aunts find out, Kay makes up her mind to fire Maxine for working without a PI license, and Babby only manages to save her by promising that Maxine will work under her supervision. Chastised, Maxine accepts the help of her aunts and cousin and finds the husband, but also discovers that his life is a tangled web of lies. The deeper she digs, the more secrets she discovers and the harder it is for Maxine to let go of a case she's already solved. When people start dying, she doesn't believe the police have arrested the right murderer and pushes her aunts, her cousin, and Cass to help her find the truth.


What drives Maxine?

When she started working at Lost and Found, Maxine's sole goal was to use their resources to find her rapist. But as she's worked the case of the missing husband, she's found that she enjoys investigations and that her passion for seeing things to completion (or her hardheadedness, depending who you ask) is a benefit that can drive her to succeed. More importantly, she's discovered that the truth, and finding it, matters greatly to her.


Is there a working title for this novel?

Nope, no title yet.


When can we expect the book to be published?

Follow me on Twitter (@gaelynnwoods) or Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/gaelynn.woods) for news about this release and upcoming Cass Elliot novels.

________________________________________________

And now I'd like to introduce you to two fabulous authors that I've read and enjoyed, Dana Griffin and Sinclair Macleod. Check their blogs in the next week or so for introductions to one of their characters.

Dana Griffin (dana-griffin.com) writes high intensity airline thrillers. Yes, thrillers about airplanes. His first two books are THE COVER-UP and COERCED, and Dana knows what he's talking about. He's been a pilot for 25 years, the last 15 of those with major airlines. All this experience gives his books a reality that makes for a wild, conspiracy-filled ride. You can find him on Twitter at @DanaGriffin97.

Sinclair Macleod (sinclairmacleod.blogspot.com) lives in Glasgow and writes THE RELUCTANT DETECTIVE mystery series starring Craig Campbell, a Glaswegian insurance investigator pressed into finding out who murdered a young boy. Sinclair has a way with characters, giving you a sense that these are real people who live and breathe. He draws you into the seedy underside of life, but manages to leave you with a bit of hope for humanity no matter how depraved we may seem. You can find him on Twitter at @sinclairmacleod.

A Girl Called Gus - The Art of Naming Characters

I've always been fascinated by names. Probably because Gae-Lynn is so uncommon. But having a weird first name isn't enough for my family. I'm also blessed with an unusual nickname. Seems my paternal grandfather held me as a howling, red-faced newborn and said, "She looks like a Gus."

And that was that.
 
Family and friends call me Gus, I'm Auntie Gus to my nieces and nephews, and my husband calls me 'Gus the Destroyer' because it ain't been built that I can't break. In fact, Gus is the one word I hear in any circumstance. (Watching people react to a girl called Gus is pretty humorous.)

My name and nickname are part of who I am, how I define myself, and perhaps how others define me. If I had to choose which name, Gae-Lynn or Gus, suited me best, I'd struggle. Both are me.

Names are important, aren't they? Parents agonize over what to call their offspring. Some believe that a name influences their child's personality and future success and happiness. Some delay naming their kids until after birth. In certain families, the naming of a child can divide loyalties or guarantee inheritances.

Sid and her first calf

[We have no kids and there's no money hanging in the balance, but the name game affects us, too. Our cows have names, usually influenced by their personalities. Sid Vicious has a quiff and an erratic personality like the late punk rocker. Sweet One simply is. Our bull is Elvis because of the peculiar way his lip curls when he's chasing the ladies.]


Just as in 'real' life, choosing a name for your characters is important. It's heady stuff, bestowing a name that will live on as long as someone is reading your books.

Rightly or wrongly, names paint an image of a character's physical or emotional characteristics in my mind. Because this imagery is so powerful for me (and possibly for others), I let it influence my character names. For example:

Scott Truman - an honest, loyal, hardworking young cop

Judge Shackleford - a tough minded judge

Hugo Petchard - a distasteful cop who relies on his daddy's money to buy influence (he also isn't huge, which bothers him greatly)

I try to pick names that don't look or sound alike, unless it doesn't matter that they do. The Cass Elliot Crime Series includes teenaged twins, Matt and Mark Grove. They're always together, always in trouble, and it doesn't really matter who is who.

In cases where it does matter, I like unique names. It helps me set the stage for 'who' a character is and what he's about, both for myself and for the reader. Names are one way to give characters an identity, and they're an easy touchstone to help the reader stay focused.
 
The name thing matters so much to me that I've abandoned books if I can't keep the characters straight. I'm about to shut down a story now because two characters have names so similar I get confused: Mark and Marcus. Their roles are also similar (police / security guys) and that makes it even harder to keep them straight.
 
What about you? Do names resonate with you? Have you ever stopped reading because the names were so similar you couldn't keep them straight? Is naming an important part of your writing process?


photo credit: abbey*christine via photopin cc
photo credit: elisabet ottosson via photopin cc 

Crumbleocity - A New Word for the #Farming Vernacular

crumbleocity (crum-bull-ah-ce-tee): the degree to which a cow patty breaks apart and the distance it travels when kicked.

Our Manure Machines

There is a reason we rednecks are referred to as sh*t kickers, and it's not just because city folks think we're big and dumb. (In fairness, anybody who spends time around cattle or other livestock could be called a sh*t kicker. You kick loads of manure, whether you intend to or not - the stuff is everywhere.)

No, I believe the phrase arises from the jealousy city folks feel over our traditional redneck pastime of kicking cow patties around the pasture. In addition to the hilarity caused when watching someone line up for a cow patty kick, there's quite a bit of value in kicking poo, including the benefits of manure spread as fertilizer; the reduction of unsightly cow patty mounds that linger in the pasture for ages (which the fire ants love and the cows won't graze near); and the increase in heart elevation and muscle tone due to the exercise.

But cow patties differ in their suitability for kicking. Therefore, there is an art to kicking poo, as follows:

Weather: the freeze / thaw cycle works wonders on the creation of crumbleocity, so there's good kicking to be had in winter. Regardless of the time of year, choose dry days when the temperature is between approximately 45 and 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

Too Wet

If the day is too wet, you're likely to slip while taking aim and letting loose with your kick. 

Too much colder than 45 F and the cow patty will tend toward frozen, hurting your foot when you kick it. (They're hard as bricks when they're frozen - yes, we've learned that the hard way.)

Much hotter than 90 F and the dang things crust over quickly, fooling you into thinking they have the potential for good crumbleocity but instead smearing all over your foot.

Wellies

Footwear: you can kick cow patties in your bare feet or sandals, but I don't recommend it. (Icky between the toes. Enough said.) Cowboy boots work fine, but I prefer wellies because they're easily rinsed off. If you're inclined to kick when the weather is cold, choose wellies with steel-toes to protect your toes.

Too Dry

 
Patty selection: this is where the true art comes in. Wet cow patties don't crumble well at all, and they don't travel any distance when kicked. Cow patties that are too dry might fly a fair distance, but don't crumble. (They are an excellent choice for that other traditional redneck pastime, the cow chip flip.)

Just Right

The perfect cow patty to provide good crumble and distance / spread when kicked is only slightly moist and still well mounded. It's dark in color or is starting to turn a lighter brown in places and has lost that 'new poo' sheen.

Good Crumbleocity

When you kick a cow patty with solid crumbleocity, it spreads in a "V" from the point of origin, fanning out to six feet or more. Delightfully satisfying.





This, I believe, is the origin of the phrase 'sh*t kicker'. If the label has been slapped upon you, wear it with pride and know that those city folks are really hoping to join in, and wondering if Prada makes a wellie suitable for patty kicking...

Calf Weaning as Writing Inspiration

They say you should write what you know, and right now, I know about decibels. This time of year, I wonder if raising cows is worth the hassle.

Newborns look so innocent

It’s weaning season, which means it’s noisy on the ranch. A lot of farmers calve in the winter and then wean in the summer. We plan our calving (to the extent that we can control the amorous advances of our 2,000 pound bull) for spring. This gives the mothers access to fresh, nutritious grass to help them rebuild their strength after being pregnant through the winter, and also ensures the calves can start grazing as soon as possible. Early grazing helps the calves put on weight because they have access to both milk and grass.

It’s hugely entertaining to watch calves go from wobbly newborns to curious youngsters through the summer. During that time, they’re grazing, nursing, and learning to eat the little bit of feed we give them through those normally green months. They’re also gaining some independence, forming cliques, and venturing away from the herd to graze with their ‘friends’. By the time autumn rolls around, the calves are about six months old and it’s time to stop them from nursing so their mothers can put on weight for the winter and get ready to deliver the next batch of calves. 

Unhappy bull calf...

Despite the calves’ pretensions of independence, they’re still babies at six months old. And like human babies, they bawl for their mothers as soon as they’re separated. The cows add to the noise because their udders are full of milk, but there are no calves around to drink it. So, for a few days, it’s a moo chorus around here, night and day. (Secretly, the cows must heave a sigh of relief when the calves are weaned. It’s hard work nursing a 500 pound baby, and for all the belly-aching, I think the mommas are happy to see the babies weaned.)

Thankfully, our nearest neighbors are about a quarter of a mile away, so it’s only us who lose sleep for these few days. Ear plugs are some help, but it’s amazing how much noise one six month old calf can make, much less a whole herd of them. We’ll give them six weeks to put on some weight, then it’s off to the sale barn they go, to repay some of the investment we’ve made in them and the ranch.

So right now, weaning is what I know. Will I be able to work the experience into a

story? I think so. Whether it’s a neighbor who goes nuts over the noise, a rustler who takes advantage of the chaos to steal some cows, or a calf stampede, yes, I’ll find a use for weaning. And given that I write crime novels, a fictional someone will probably die in the process. Time to find a victim…

photo credit: quinn.anya via photopin cc

Spring at the Ranch: Calves and Clover

Spring's a great season - new life, fresh growth, clean air and hopefully, mild temperatures. More importantly, tax season is over and life can get back to a normal rhythm. Or back to what passes for normal around here, which means weird writing hours, even weirder music hours, and ranching in between it all.

Rarely do I stop to smell the roses - partly because of the bees hanging around and really, who's got the time? - but it's hard not to enjoy springtime at our ranch when it's full of crimson clover and calves. In 2012, we've got the clover and thanks to some prearranged romantic interludes for Elvis and the girls last summer, most of the calves should arrive in May.


To put my glee at the pretty plants and baby cows in perspective, the summer of 2011 was a miserable time in Texas. We experienced the worst drought in nearly a century and exceedingly high summer temperatures. Our pastures were a wasteland. We'll spend time and money in 2012 replanting those pastures, if we get decent rain this year. Only two of our ponds had any water in them, the rest of the ponds and Brushy Creek simply dried up. Many ranchers sold out in 2011 rather than endure the expense of feeding their cows over the summer. We decided to hang on to our stock and made it through with lighter pockets, but with our original herd of Black Angus intact, if a bit thinner than we'd like.


Crossing our fingers that the winter would bring rain, we planted 100 pounds of crimson clover seed in the autumn. Although it takes a lot of walking to spread - we're pretty low tech out here - that's not as much seed as it sounds. Thankfully, the rains came down and up came the clover.



Keeping weight up on a cow is a real challenge during a drought, and miscarriage is a risk. So far, we've got eight hooves on the ground with 48 more to come. This little guy is our first born, and yes, he is as cranky as he looks:

He's also the first-born to his momma, and we worried because she couldn't seem to put on weight during the winter. She's still a little ribbier than we'd like, but momma and baby are doing fine.





I'm off to go feed the heifers and then work on book two in the Forney County Series. Thanks for taking the time to hear about our spring here on the ranch. Speaking of, what signals spring to you?