Cattle Pens

Yesterday for lunch I took a walk on the catwalk above the few cattle pens that are left here in the Fort Worth Stockyards and that are just outside my office. I looked across the area that used to be covered in pens but now is a parking lot. I looked straight down to the alley ways between the pens and saw the old original red bricks, the same ones the streets in the stockyards are made from.

There are a few horses that belong to the hands that work the cattle drive that are kept in the pens. And there is the small herd herd of longhorns that are used in the cattle drive. The cattle drive runs at 11 and 4 each day on Exchange Avenue in front of the Livestock Exchange building.

These old buildings and pens hold a lot of history. The livestock Exchange building is 107 years old and the Northside Coliseum is 102 years old. Even the bricks in the streets are historic!

While I stood on the catwalk yesterday there was a spring-like breeze blowing and I could hear the horses snorting, the birds singing, steers moo-ing and goats from the petting zoo going Baa-baa and the train whistle as it approached the stockyards station. I even heard the clip-clop of a horse and rider go by on the old red bricks below me. And for a moment, I was transported back in time and I could hear the sounds from 100 years ago. Cowboys yelling "git-up" and "yip-yip" to the cattle as they drive them down the alley ways to the Armour and Swift packing plants just up the hill. The conversations of the cattle buyers as they inspect the different pens of cattle. And the train as it brings in new herds to be sold.

But then the wind blew and the cup of tea I had sitting on the rail of the catwalk blew off and I came back to reality. As I made my way down to the old pens to retrieve my cup I thought about all the wooden gates and the bricks and the buildings and I wished they could talk. I wish they could tell me the stories of the things they have seen.

But wait..., maybe they just did. Maybe that moment that I thought was my imagination was really the voices from the past that lie in the wood and bricks. I think I will go back out there today and have my lunch and I will listen. Just listen...
 

Teresa Burleson

Cowboy Poetry the Cowgirl Way!

 

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Other states were carved or born but Texas grew from hoof and horn!

 

Winter

Normally, in Texas we have mild winters. Sometimes it doesn't even get cold enough to kill off all the insects. When spring arrives we have more fleas and grasshoppers than ever! Believe me though when I say, I AM NOT COMPLAINING!
I am very thankful that I don't live in North Dakota. I just don't know if I could tolerate the cold!
Am I a wimp?!
I couldn't go to work today due to the roads and probably not tomorrow. Our groceries are quickly running out. I can deal with that but I can't tolerate the cold. The weather report says it is -3 wind chill.
When you have livestock to tend too it is a different experience in weather like this than for those who live in town.
We only have two horses and 4 goats to take care of!
I can't imagine what my friend Karla goes through. She is a ranch manager and has many, many head of cattle to care for. But Karla is the epitome of cowgirl.
I am a wimp.
We just came in from feeding. It is soooo cold! I got my glove wet when I was breaking ice on the goats water. When I was walking back I got in a snow drift up to my knees. I lost my balance a little and grabbed the pipe fence and my glove stuck to the pipe. I had to rip it off the fence! By the time I got to the house my glove was frozen stiff!
I have no choice. We have to care for the animals. As long as we have animals I will go out in the cold and get frozen hands and feet and a wind chapped face.
However, I may have to move further south!!
I am a wimp!

Rhythms by Teresa Burleson

God gave us each a tempo that's keeping time with His spirit.
So we can sing along with Him and let the rest of the world hear it.

My life is made up of rhythms that began with the beat of a heart.
The spirit of man and the elements of land each play an equal part.

Listen close and you'll hear a tune played by the cattle as they graze,
The chewing of cud and swishing of tail wile away the summer days.

I hear the creaking windmill keeping time with the song of the wind,
The wind that is blowing in the clouds that are rains next of kin.

And the beat of those raindrops falling on the roof made of tin,
Bringing the nourishment that will make the prairie dance again.

Or the blatant contrast and the stillness of a hot August drought,
As the pulse of the heat that is bearing down and drying out.

I've danced to the cadence of a horse and the fall of its hooves,
I have sat atop the power and become one with its moves.

It's a ride that beats out a rhythm that fulfills a spiritual need,
And I know the calming measure and meter of my horse eating its feed.

I've experienced the flow of memories that rush in to flood my mind,
They transport me to another place and the lyrics of another time.

I recall the beat of the pots and pans from momma in the kitchen,
As she bustles around, peeling potatoes and frying up the chicken.

And there's the rhythm and the urgency of a newborn baby's cry,
Accompanied by the soft, soothing whisper of a mothers lullaby.

Yes, life is full of rhythms like the lilt of laughter and the flow of tears.
The song may change but the beat remains as I waltz through the years.

Each rhythm has made me who I am and brought me to this place and time.
Each beat has fulfilled a destiny that is so uniquely mine.

The love of the West and all that it holds is a symphony within my spirit.
God has put a poem in my heart and I want the rest of the world to hear it.

It has been said that Texans are a proud bunch and I suppose that's true. And maybe I am being a little too bold to even entertain the idea that Santa could possibly be from Texas. But IF he was I wrote this poem to describe how I imagine he would be.


If Santa Was From Texas

If Santa was from Texas instead of up north where there's snow,
I bet he'd be a different feller from the Santa we all know.
Oh he'd still be jolly but he wouldn't wear that funny little hat.
Why no self respecting Texas would cover his head like that!
No, it'd be a Stetson with a 5 inch brim that's red.
And no fake fur for this cowboy it'd be 100X instead.
His boots would be Justins with tall stitched red tops.
And the soles would be magic so up the chimney he could hop.
He'd wear Billy Klapper spurs for when he rides his horse.
And his jeans would be Wranglers, cowboy cut of course. He'd wear a red silk bandana and leather gloves on his hands.
And a red Carhartt to keep him warm as he flies across the land.
He'd haul his gifts around in a wagon made for freight.
Cuz a sleigh don't works so good her in the Lone Star State.
And it'd be pulled by 8 Texas Longhorn steers.
Cuz out here in the West you won't find many artic reindeers. And those steers would be broke to fly and on the nights that's there's a fog.
He'd call on Ol' Rudy, his red nosed border collie dog.
His tow sack would be filled with tack for cowboys that were good.
And he'd have toys for girls and boys just like Santa should.
On Christmas Eve he'd sneak in to every ranch and bunk house.
And except for the jingling of his spurs he'd be as quiet as a mouse.
He'd leave his gifts around all the cedar Christmas trees.
For folks to find come morning and they'll be sure to please.
He'd fill every sock that's hung by the fireplace with care.
And everyone would know that the Texas Santa had been there.
Then with a click of his heels he's up the chimney with a jolly Yee-Haw!
And as he rides away you can hear him holler, Merry Christmas y'all!

Academy of Western Artists Winners

Western Music Male...Randy HustonWestern Music Female...Jennifer LindWestern Music Duo/Group...Rocking HWWestern Music Yodeler...Gary McMahanWestern Music Album...Lynn Anderson "Cowgirl II"Western Music Song...California Cowboy Band "Cowboy Blue"Western Swing Male...John EnglandWestern Swing Female...Carolyn MartinWestern Swing Duo/Group...Saddle CatsWestern Swing Album...Saddle Cats "Herdin' Cats"Western Swing Song...Les Gilliam-Oklahoma 1955Western Swing Instrumentalist...Buddy SpicherPure Country Male...Frankie MillerPure Country Female...Heather MylesPure Country Duo/Group...Jake Hooker & the OutsidersPure Country Album...Georgette Jones "A Slightly Used Woman"PUre Country Song.. Darrell MCall "Fast As I Can"Disc Jockey....Cary Hobbs, KTMP-AM, Heber City, UTRadio Station...KTMP-AM, Heber City UT Cowboy Poet....Ken Cook, SDCowgirl Poet....Teresa Burleson, TXCowboy Poetry Album/CD...Jessica Hedges "History In The Barn", WABuck Ramsey Book Award...Dawn Nelson "A Cowgirl Remembers When", WA Western Artist....John Kittelson, WYCowboy Cartoonist....Brenda Lee Nichols, WASaddlemaker....John Willemsma, OKSpurmaker.....Ray Anderson, TXEngraver....Stewart Williamson, NMGarnet Brooks Memorial Chuckwagon Award....Don & Shirley Creacy, TXWill Rogers Lifetime Achievement.....Alvin Davis, TXDon King Memorial Saddlemaker Award...Forest Shupe, CA

A Day in the Life of a Barnyard Diva

Yesterday I got home from work at a ranch down the road, and I changed into something a little more comfortable. No, not a lacy nightie or a cute pair of shorts. I put on a white t-shirt and my blue checkered pajama pants that hit just below my knees. (My usual pink ones were in the dirty clothes hamper). I fixed a little supper and then it was time to go out to feed. So I slipped on my black rubber boots and headed out the door.

I fed the goats and gave the old nanny a good pettin and then I went on to feed the horses.

The horses needed water so while the trough was filling I provided them some dinner music by singing Cowboy Moon and Don't Fence Me In. I used to sing Cowboys Sweetheart to them but the yodeling spooked them.

After shutting off the water I headed back towards the feed shed to put up the buckets. I decided that my goats needed a treat so I grabbed the saw and found some low hanging branches on the oaks trees to cut off for them. I love the way they get so excited when I throw those branches over into thier pen. They love to eat leaves!
After that was done and I put the saw up and I decided to mow a little. My husband was on the John Deere riding lawnmower so I started up the push mower and mowed around the house.

As I was mowing I wondered what the passing traffic on the Farm to Market Road we live on thought about my outfit. Then I thought, Who cares?

About that time my husband whistled at me, no not a wolf whistle as if to say he thinks I'm cute, he whistled loud to get my attention over the sound of the mower. He wanted me to help him put out a round bale. I am the official gate opener. So, we put out the round bale. I opened and closed the gate and hopped on the tail gate of the pickup for a ride back to the house. We were done for the day.

I love my life. I truly do. It is the life I always wanted. Of course in my fantasy I imagined more money and less bills. But I know how fortunate I am to have what I have. And I don't mean just the material possesions or the handsome husband or the good children and grandchildren we have. Or the wonderful friends that enrich my life on a daily basis. I am so fortunate that I have so much joy in my life. And that joy comes from my faith in my Lord. And it comes from that fact that I have the wisdom to recognize my blessings and to appreciate what I have. I count my blessings and not my trials.
Now its 7pm and I've gotta go feed again. this time I'm wearing my pink pajama pants with my black rubber boots!

Learnin' Cowboy Lessons

Texas! When you say that to some people it conjures up images of cowboys on horseback and cattle grazing on the prairie. Some folks in foreign countries think we still fight Indians in Texas and Oklahoma!

I know a barrel racer from Illinois that saw Urban Cowboy as a young girl and wanted to move to Texas, marry a cowboy and live in a mobile home. She laughs about it now because she did move to Texas and she did live in a mobile home but without the cowboy!

And then there is the lady I knew that was bound and determined to marry herself a real cowboy! And that is a great plan but the problem was that she was looking for her future cowboy husband in the bars at the historic Stockyards of Ft. Worth.

She was a well educated person with a Masters degree and all! But she was a city gal that liked the notion of living the western lifestyle. She had a good idea but went about it the wrong way.

Bless her heart, she isn't the only person that thinks you will find a cowboy hanging out in the bars. So many people think that if a man is wearing a cowboy hat or boots that he is a cowboy.

According to Dictionary.com a cowboy is:
1. a man who herds and tends cattle on a ranch, esp. in the western U.S., and who traditionally goes about most of his work on horseback.
2. a man who exhibits the skills attributed to such cowboys, esp. in rodeos.
(Dictionary.com has some other definitions of cowboy that I won't go into because I don't agree with them and I'll save that for a different blog.)

I wrote a poem about the city gal that was looking for a cowboy in all the wrong places. And those who know real cowboys will understand what I am trying to say.

And by the way, she is getting married soon to a fine man but he isn't a cowboy, he is a city boy and more of a fit for her.

-----
Learnin' Cowboy Lessons

You go to the bars and honky-tonks 'neath the lights of neon blue,
Hopin' to find yourself a cowboy who will someday say "I do."

You think if you find a real cowboy he'll be everything you need.
Your lookin' for a cowboy knight to the rescue on his trusty steed.

You say you want a feller with a hat, boots and tight wrangler jeans.
Well I have to tell ya that's not what being a real cowboy means.

But since you're a high falutin' city gal I can't expect you to know,
You won't find many real cowboys in those places that you go.

Now I don't mean to hurt your feelin's and I sure don't mean to be rude,
But it's time that you learned the difference between a cowboy and a dude.

And if you do find a real cowboy that wants to partner up for life,
There's some things you need to learn before you become his wife.

First you'll learn a cowboy is a good man, you'll find there is none better,
But I hope you like his cologne, it's called eau de' Horse Sweat and Leather.

You'll learn the stock comes first, and sometimes you'll take second place.
But rest assured he can't wait to get home to your sweet smilin' face.

And get used to having dirt and manure all over your nice clean floor,
'Cuz even though he wipes his feet, upon his boots is stuck a little more.

And when you get all gussied up and you're ready for a night on the town,
Don't be surprised if he ain't plum wore out and he meets your smile with a frown.

You gotta learn the difference between a wanna be and a cowboy that is real.
It's not in what he is wearin', a cowboy just has that certain appeal.

It's not in how he looks, it's a way of bein' that comes from the heart.
And not many people know it but cowboyin' is a work of art.

You'll learn cowboy is a man of honor and for his God and freedom he will fight.
A real cowboy stands up for what he believes in and he stands for what is right.

And you will find that he is usually kind and treats you in a respectable manner.
He tips his hat to the ladies and takes it off for the Star Spangled Banner.

And you'll learn a cowboy is true cuz he rides for the brand and lives by the cowboy code.
And there's plenty of REAL cowboys still out there, you just cant see 'em from the road.

Now I aint saying you wont find your cowboy one of these Friday or Saturday nights,
But you'll come more near finding him further away from these city lights.

And I know some cowboys like to dance and some might go out for a drink or two,
But you need to learn, Honey, if he's lookin' for a wife, he ain't in no bar lookin for you.

By Teresa Burleson