Branding iron

A couple weekends ago I went up to Jonna's family's branding outside Kaycee, Wyo. I've always wanted to go, but was never back in the state when they did it. This year I wasn't going to miss it!

I didn't have a job except to take some photos. I do have a bit of a branding resume though: My family helped our friends in Gillette, Wyo., brand for a few years and I got assigned to the "castrating crew." I was the insecticide and blood clotting powder-girl. Sounds pretty glitzy, huh?

For those who aren't up on their branding practices I was the girl who, after the, ahem "deed" was done, ran up and sprayed insecticide around the area then dumped blood clotting powder in.

I wanted to try other things after a few years of this prestigious job and got moved over to ear tags and vaccines. It just wasn't as exciting.

And my old role made for a much better story for all my East Coast listeners.

How about some nice, warm-up pics first...

This is Banjo. Check out his tongue! He just keeps it hanging out like that most of the time...



A new-born ranch kitten...

Jonna's dad Wayne...Kissing calves...


The cattle coming in...


Ok, enough of the sugar coated shots. Let's get down to the nitty gritty: The irons used to burn out any horns...

Jonna's brother Nathan roping...

I've titled this one "Kicking and Screaming"...


See that bucket there? It's called the "nut bucket." I'll spare you the close up photo of what's inside...

Lots of activity...


And that, folks, is how it's done.

Native

When I woke up on Saturday morning it was pretty nice out and I decided it would be a good idea to sit outside with an iced coffee at Starbucks.

But by the time I was ready to leave, the weather had changed and the cute sundress and flip flops I had on weren't going to cut it. So, I threw on some jeans, a long-sleeved tee and a hoodie and kept the flip flops.

It was a little cool sitting outside, but not bad.

A while later a man wearing sweatpants and a short-sleeved tee walked by noting my choice of shoes and places to sit.

"You must be a native!" he laughed.

And I've only been back a year...

Pioneer hygiene

I ran out of toothpaste this morning.

I was in Laramie, getting ready for Linds H.'s baby shower and I used the very last drop of my Crest Whitening with Scope - which I am a devoted consumer of beyond any other brand out there.

"Don't forget to get more when you get into Cheyenne," I told myself.

I forgot.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until about 30 minutes ago when I was on the phone with my mom. This was at about 8:15 p.m. with me already in my PJs and no desire to go back out. (I agree, PJs at 8:15 p.m. is pretty lame, but I am really tired after not sleeping well last night!)

Anyway.

Without skipping a beat, my mom asked if I had any baking soda.

I do, and as unappealing as it sounded to concoct my own toothpaste out of baking soda, I wondered to myself how I had never thought to do this before.

I mean, I don't frequently run out of toothpaste or anything, but on the occasions I have I usually just brush my teeth with mouthwash and go immediately to the store the next morning. Using baking soda had never crossed my mind.

I decided to use mouthwash to mix it up instead of plain ol' water - maybe it would be more like real toothpaste and less...gross.

It was a good idea. There is a reason I am not an Arm & Hammer or Tom's natural toothpaste kind of gal.

It sucks.

But I made do, like I imagine pioneer women of the past did, and brushed it up.

Tomorrow it's back to Crest Whitening with Scope. All the way.

Some things just won't change

The Wyoming State Legislature starts up next week and I'm pretty excited. That's dorky sounding, I know, but I'm ok with it.

I had my first taste of our state government since beeing back on Thursday at SLIB, the State Loan and Investment Board. I was there for work and was reminded how "small town" our government is. SLIB is made up of the governor and the other four statewide elected officials, i.e. the secretary of state.

The governor shook everyone's hands, everyone knew each other, and heck, at one point the state superintendent even got up and poured coffee for the other officials. Aren't there usually people that do that for them? Oh yeah, not here.

I was also excited to be "back in government." As I told one friend that day, I just love "being in government." I like the process, and the discussion, and being knowlegeable about what's happening that effects people's lives. It's dorkily interesting to me.

So, as I also told this friend, I guess you can take the girl out of government, but you can't take the government out of the girl.

Walk This Way!

(Yes, you're supposed to hear Aerosmith in your head as you read the title.)

I braved the cold (hurricane-like) wind today and walked back to work from lunch. Walking to work more is a New Year's resolution of mine. I'm trying to treat it like D.C. - where anything but walking isn't an option.

On my walkabouts there is one thing I've noticed: my pedestrian etiquette has changed. Meaning, I have some.

In D.C., you cross outside the crosswalk, you don't wait for walk lights, and you yell at cars, cabs, messenger bikes and anything else that doesn't ''yield the right of way." Ok...I still (somewhat) do all these things, just to a much lesser and cognizant-of-my-behavior way.

What is really noticeable, however, is the respect DRIVERS give to PEDESTRIANS here. They wave at you to "have the right of way" at a stop sign. They don't try to pressure you to run-or-be-runover at an intersection you are crossing where they want to turn either left or right. And, remarkably, when there is a crosswalk (and no lights to dictate what to do) drivers heed it. They heed it!!

I was reminded of this at the unlit crosswalk in front of the Capitol tonight. One car coming from my right saw me at the crosswalk and slowed well in advance to let me cross. Another car, coming from my left, came charging down the road, but once aware that there was a pedestrian came to a stop.

I gave a thank you wave to that one because they could've easily charged ahead, but instead followed the rules and stopped. On countless, truly countless occasions, I risked life and limb trying to cross my street in D.C. at the appropriate cross. And, on countless, truly countless occasions I dared cars, Metro buses, bikers, cabs, and whatnot to plow me down - playing "Frogger" and daring them to not stop.

You know, I'm getting pretty used to not yelling both ways before crossing the street...

Christmas Miracle!

My camera is found!

I called the restaurant I was at yesterday one last time this morning to see if it had turned up, but to no avail.

So, desperately sad, I walked out to my car to check around in the daylight and would you believe? There was my camera, laying in the leaves and dirt by the curb outside my car. It must have fallen out of my coat pocket on my way in last night.

This is truly a Christmas miracle!

And, lucky for you, I can now share all my tree-hunting/cutting pictures.

So many candidates. Which one will be going home with me...?

Paying little attention to anything else but the tree I had my eye on, I fell into a darn deep hole. Ok, to be fair to myself, it was covered by snow! Even if I HAD been watching where I was going I would have likely fallen. My friend Nathan thought it was pretty funny. It was...


After much searching I found my tree. No one can accuse me of not being a tree hugger!


Nathan hard at work with the saw. His dog Sierra is supervising...

Nathan gave a loud lumberjack yell..."TIMM-BER!"... and my tree was down. Note Sierra looking on satisfactorily at a job well done...


Nathan hauling the tree, and Sierra a leader once again. Look at the commanding way she forges ahead...


Packing up...


The Beartree in Centennial, Wyo. I've always wanted to eat here, but have never gotten around to it. The place is apparently known for their pizza, and that, with a beer (x2), is exactly what I wanted to complete my Currier & Ives tree-hunting day...


We had a couple of these each to compliment our delicious artichoke, black olive and chicken pizza. Yum...!

AgXpo Extravaganza

My coworker Matt and I are spending all weekend at the AgXpo in Casper, Wyo., for work. Our Agribusiness Division hosts this "ag"travaganza each year and Matt and I were asked to come along to shoot some video and stills.

It's going to be livestock and tractors all weekend long!

These guys are such characters. Check out the mop on his head! And I love how he's kind of like, "Yeah, you read right. I'm an alpaca."

Well, hello there!

I have a new friend or pet or something in this lil' lady. She really got her moo on at one point. I have titled this photo, Last Moo, since I clicked it as she let one last, long one out.

She was totally into me. Maybe it's because I had this tasty food pellet in my hand. I attempted to feed her unsuccessfully a few times and just ended up getting slimed. Check out my hand...


Finally, success! We are now best friends.


From the youth talent show Friday night...


Cows crack me up. I can't help but give them (and pretty much all animals) human personalities. These are bouncers saying, "You're not welcome here." Not like I haven't heard that before...


And this guy...


...thought he could be sneaky...

Does Wyoming have a problem with dogs trying to break into human establishments or something? See here also...

Fine, then!

More from My Home on the Range

I just looked out my newly curtained bedroom window to see a breathtaking sunset.

I never, ever get tired of the sunsets out here and we've been having lots of really pretty ones lately. You should probably expect a lot more of these sunset/sunrise pics because I just can't get enough of them.

These pics from my front stoop just don't do it justice...

Cloud 9

One of the reasons I liked D.C. as a big city so much is there is so much sky. Since no building can be taller than the highest point on the Capitol, the town is built "out" and not "up" like other cities, i.e., New York with its skyscrapers.

This makes D.C. much more full of light, and you can actually see the sky and clouds. It just makes it nice.

But if you think seeing the clouds there is cool, check out how close the clouds are here. Looks like you could actually touch them...I've always loved that.

Above a house on the outskirts of town...

Bringing new meaning to "skyline..."

Rejection Slip

It's been months since I ended my job search, but remarkably those darned rejection letters keep trickling in.

I got one today from a job I had truly been interested in. It was in Vail and it was perfect. Right down my alley. I knew I could do it too.

But I never heard anything from them...until today!

Today - five months after sending in my resume. Today - four months after starting my current job. I don't get it - why post a job listing if you aren't going to fill it until five months later?

I'm confounded.

All of this being said, I'm really happy things worked out the way they did. I don't think I would have been as happy in Vail as I am here. Imagining a job and life in Vail is actually very strange. It just doesn't seem to fit like I thought then that it would.

However, I still can't help but scratch my head.

Random Weekend Pics

Climbers around the Turtle Rock trail between Cheyenne and Laramie.


Me at the trail head. If you look (very, very) closely you can see the climbers behind me...


The pass between Cheyenne and Laramie is notorious for wacky weather. And there is always wind. Always.


Seriously.

Time Machine

I just edited my blog profile so it no longer reads, "Former D.C.ite recently returned to the West."

I figure after 7 1/2 months I can no longer say my return is "recent." (I wonder if it's a coincidence that I am realizing this after also living in D.C. seven years...)

I can not believe it has been that long. Given how much I've done, and how many places I've "lived" since leaving I feel that it should seem like ages since I've left. It doesn't.

But when you really think about 7 1/2 months, that's a long time! And "a long time" is hardly the definition of recent.

So, here I am.

Simply returned.

Top o' the Mornin'

Between Union Station and the intersection every Senate staffer uses on their way to work from the Metro, there was a man who used to stand nearly every morning playing the saxophone.

It wasn't just the sound of his sax playing over rush hour traffic and mute Hill staffers who awkwardly pretend they aren't standing on a median with throngs of others that made him notable. It was also that he would stop playing periodically to yell, "Good morning, good MORNING, GOOD MORNING!" as we all stood there waiting for the light to change so we could rush by.

I called him the Good Morning Man. And I loved him. He was one of my many favorite, quirky things about D.C.

He always made me smile, and I was happy to see he generally got a positive response from others too. You couldn't help but say good morning back - whether you meant it, or it was frightened out of you.

I figure he's about one of the only people in the city that says good morning to people whether he knows them or not.

I did for a time. When I first moved there I'd say it to people I passed on my morning run, or on my way to the Metro, or to get coffee...exchanging good mornings is what I'd always done. But generally the person would be visibly surprised a stranger was talking to them and their attempt to respond would be too late - if they responded at all.

I finally caught on. You just don't do that in the "big city." People have no expectations of others being friendly, so why should they?

It's not like that here. You can hardly be out before noon without getting good morninged every where you go.

And I'm back to being one of the culprits. I pretty much good morning every one I see. Particularly on my morning run.

The East Coast may have it's lone Good Morning guy, but the West just got back another Good Morning Gal.

It's Really and Truly Official

The big news yesterday?

I can legitimately be called a Wyoming resident again! My new Wyoming drivers license came in the mail.

After months of switching addresses and license plates I have finally sealed the deal.

It was weird and fun to see my face by a bucking bronco and not to have the District of Columbia seal hanging over my head.

AND...Wyoming doesn't put your weight on there.

I showed it to everyone.

Worlds Collide

On my way to coffee on Saturday I found myself at a garage sale. It was an unplanned stop and I didn't have cash to buy a couple trinkets I liked, but not to worry: In true Wyoming form one of the coordinators nicely gave me her number and told me to call later if I was still interested.

I was.

When I went back to pick up the stuff the lady asked me, what area code is 202? Is that D.C.?

Perplexed about how she knew that I answered yes, then...asked her how she knew that.

Turns out she used to live in D.C. - about 30 years ago when she was in her mid-20s. She worked for a House member, lived on Capitol Hill by the Marine Barracks, and loved it, she said.

She wasn't from Wyoming, but landed here when a friend from law school invited her out to work on a Senate campaign. Her guy lost, but she decided to stay - just for a little while until she could get things figured out. And here she was, 30 years later.

We had such a great chat!

Then she asked me how I was settling into Cheyenne. I was truthful. I told her it's been a little bit of an adjustment, but overall I think it's been good.

That's when she told me nicely but bluntly how she loves living here now, but hated it when she first moved. I think she was maybe overstating her sentiments in an attempt to be sympathetic, but still - I'm guessing that's not approved text by the Welcome Wagon, and that's not exactly how I would describe my feelings about life in Cheyenne thus far.

I mean, sure, I really miss having a swanky place to get dressed up to go out to on a Saturday night, but I don't think that's cause for me to hate it.

If anything, I've been feeling more settled in lately. And that makes me feel like things aren't all that bad.

Makin' It Real

I just came in from putting my Wyoming license plates on my car. I've had them for a long while now, but just haven't gotten around to getting it done.

In the last seven months Gwennie, my car, has worn "Taxation Without Representation" D.C., plates, "Greenie" Colorado plates, and is now sporting some shiny county 2s.

So, it's official!

Or at least nearly.

On Friday I went to get my new Wyoming driver's license as well. THAT will be weird. But I won't have to worry about it for roughly three to four weeks, which is how long it will take for me to get it in the mail!

I forgot this about Wyoming. I assumed I'd walk out with a stunning new I.D. in hand, like you do in D.C., but nope. Instead I have a paper version and my old D.C., license to tide me over 'til the real thing arrives.

I do get to keep my D.C., license, which is nice. Since I'll very likely never live there again it'll be neat to have proof that I did.

If only the picture weren't so terrible and my weight was correct...

Not the Only One

I just got off the phone with my friend Erin, who is a very close friend from D.C., and who recently moved back to California with her now husband.

She is in D.C., for the first time since leaving. She called to tell me she was staying in the hotel above the bar/restaurant Urbana, which is where I dragged a bunch of people when it was new and where I had the first part of my 30th birthday party. Super cool place.

Anyway, we talked about what it was like to be back for the first time after leaving. Turns out, I'm not alone in the way I felt when I went back for the first time.

Erin talked about the knot of anxiety and the overwhelming feelings of nostalgia she had as she crossed the bridge into town. She wondered if life in D.C., which she also loved and was such an integral part in shaping who we are, would become distant-feeling like her time in Argentina, a country she fell in love with and that also shaped who she was when living there for a year.

She said she told her mom it was weird to be there and not be living there. Yep.

And she talked about how her life is in California now, but D.C. will always have a place in her heart. Yep again.

I was afraid the feelings I had when I went back, as real as I thought they were, were just me being overly dramatic. Many would say that was probably it, but I know now that it wasn't. I'm not the only one D.C., meant a lot to and am not alone when it comes to missing that city like crazy.

Even though I really am happy to be back in my Western home.

Home Again, Home Again - But Which One?

I know I’ve been M.I.A. the past week. I went to D.C. for the weekend and have just been…tired…since I returned.

John and Sara's wedding was this weekend and I went back for the big event - and it was totally worth it, as I never doubted the wedding itself would be.

I did doubt, however, the wisdom in returning to my old home so soon.

I was anxious all week, and as the trip got closer my feeling of anxiety got worse. As I told several friends, I likened the trip to visiting the grave too soon.

I don't want to live there - but I do miss components of my life there - and I didn't want to have to say goodbye again to friends and the things about the city that I love. I dreaded Sunday.

But, I made it through the anxiety and had a great time. I got to see lots of friends and I went to several of my favorite places: Rosemary's Thyme for happy hour...my little 17th St., coffee shop for an iced coffee...shopping at H&M...etc.

It was so natural to be there! Oddly so, in fact. I felt like I was home from vacation from my new home. I guess that's what happens when you live in a place so long. I was there eight years. I've been in Cheyenne roughly eight weeks.

D.C. and I will always have a little love affair. We fell hard for each other immediately and very few cities will ever compare. Cheyenne and I don't have the passion for one another that D.C. and I did, but we're still on a first date feeling each other out.

I think this could go somewhere...

The Great Migration

Lots of people are following my lead in moving West it seems (I know - I'm such a trendsetter!), including two friends in particular: Erin and Paco.

I met up with Erin and her mom as they passed through Laramie this morning on their way to California.

I gave them a quick and dirty driving tour of the town before heading to the Overland for breakfast. This was of course followed by coffee at Coal Creek and a very condensed tour of the UW campus.

The most significant stop for them, I'm sure, was a peep at the historic Buckhorn Bar at 10 a.m.

We walked in and all the towns serious imbibers, which the Buck is known to harbor, looked up at us expectantly as if they'd found new drinking buddies.

I had to let them know that wasn't quite the nip we were looking for to get our morning going.

Yep, just call me the official greeter for all wagon trains West!

Up next - Paco in the coming week.

I Spy

I keep getting all excited every time I see a Wyoming license plate in Colorado.

Though there are several Wyomingites in D.C., seeing a Wyo plate there is still kind of a novelty. Upon spying one, I would always wonder out loud, "Who could THAT be," then punch the gas so I could try to peer in their driver's side window.

A little stalker-esq? Maybe...but the chances of actually knowing that person were pretty darn good.

I've found myself doing the same thing in Colorado, as if Wyoming plates were an incredibly unique discovery here.

Not only do I realize how silly this is, but Carrie and Tyler are likely very tired of me gasping and trying to crane my neck to see who's in the car.

This is one game of "I Spy" on which I need to throw in the towel.