Micro, Miles, and Mercy

**What follows is completely my opinion.** Today, did I do the right thing? This question is written on a sticky note on my bathroom mirror.   It is a simple reminder to myself that in life it doesn’t really matter how I feel, nor does it matter what happens, the only thing that matters is my response.   In fact, my response is completely my responsibility and the only thing in life I ever truly have control over. This is a concept that is important to apply to several areas of our lives, but I would venture to say that, as an Agriculturist, this concept should always be applied when dealing with animals. As I am sure you are all aware, I was raised on a cattle ranch.   Our ranch sits in a very traditional ranching area.   Folks around our parts (ha! I just wanted to say that) have been doing things a certain way for a very long time.   One of the first lessons I learned in my youth was that, as a rancher, I am responsible for the lives and well being of animals, and tha

I don’t know if anyone else is like me, but I love refrigerator magnets!   Ok, it is not the magnet itself that I am so in love with but the things I can hang on my fridge with the use of the magnet.    My refrigerator is like a mosaic of my life, and it is so danged beautiful! I really love the people in my life, like really LOVE them.   Unfortunately, during this season of my life I am forced to be away from some of those who are nearest to my heart.   This can become very taxing on me.   W hat I have learned to do, in order to feel close to those important to me, is to surround myself by their love.   I may not be able to see them every day but I hold on to cards, pictures, notes, and other small things that remind me of my loved ones.   My refrigerator has become one of my major catch alls, to the point of being ridiculous.   Last night I accidently knocked a whole bunch of magnets off of my fridge (after closing it with gusto).   So, I knelt down to pick everything up

I am a rancher’s daughter.   Yep, born and raised on a cattle ranch in northern Nevada.   My family has been living and ranching in the same area for over a hundred years.   So, I guess you could say ranching is in my blood.   I went on my first horseback ride when I was about one, I have grown up participating in the many activities that are part of making a ranch operate, and I have attended rodeos/cuttings/horse shows for most of my life.    I am very proud of my heritage and I love that I grew up the way that I did, but sometimes I have felt in my life that I don’t quite fit the mold.  As many of you in the ranching subculture may know there seems to be certain qualities that make up a "rancher’s daughter" and to be honest I don’t really have very many of them.    Yes, I know it; this is a time of true confessions of a rancher’s daughter: 1)    I can’t rope.   Ok, let me be clear, I don’t want to rope.   I am capable of the task and have from time to time appeased