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The Antelope Calf

May 2, 2013 By Leave a Comment

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One of my favorite calving memories comes from the year when I was about 15.  I can still remember my dad coming into the house that spring and asking my brothers and sister and I if we wanted to go see a new antelope calf.

We all did want to see it, and quickly loaded up in the pickup to go. During the whole 10 mile drive my dad had the other kids and me totally convinced that we were going to be seeing a baby antelope.

I was so excited. I’d never seen an antelope up close and couldn’t imagine how great it would be to see a calf. I hoped that it was all alone so that we could keep it for a pet.

My dad drove to the far corner of the pasture. A red cow was standing by the fence. My dad  pointed to a small light brown pile in large clump of soap weeds and told us that was the antelope. We all got out to take a closer look.

At first glance it didn’t look like an antelope or a calf – it looked like a puppy. When I got closer, it was a definitely a calf – not an antelope – but it looked miniature. We all wondered how it could reach to suck. The mother claimed it though, so we left them alone.

The next morning though, we found the calf barely alive with its hindquarters chewed up by a coyote.  My dad scooped her up and set her in the front seat of the pickup – she barely took up half of the seat – and took her to the vet.

Amazingly, the vet was able to stitch up her up and he thought that she would be fine.  At home that afternoon, we tried to take care of the antelope calf as much as we could. We weighed her and she was a surprising 30 pounds. My sister and I bathed her, bandaged her wounds and fed her with a bottle. We didn’t know if she would make it, but that evening we put her back in the pasture.

Our little antelope calf did make it, but she never grew up. She was so small she routinely walked under all the cows to get where she wanted to go. When she sucked, she put her whole body under the cow. At weaning time, as well as the sale day, the antelope calf looked more like a big ewe than a feeder calf. But, out of all the calves my parents have had over the years she was definitely our favorite.

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader

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87-Year-Old Makes a Difference in Black Forest, Colorado

May 1, 2013 By Leave a Comment

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Though she is 87 years old and less than five feet tall, Ruth Ann Steele works hard to prevent fires in Black Forest Colorado. For the past 20 years Steele has spent thousands of hours educating Black Forest landowners about the dangers of wildfire.

In 1994, Steele developed the Black Forest Slash and Mulch, a program designed to help forest landowners clear their land of fire dangers and provide them with useful mulch. Beginning in May and running through September, landowners bring in slash – pine needles, branches and dead trees – to section 16 in the Black Forest. There the debris is ground up for free and turned into free mulch that area residents can pick up from June through September. In the past 20 years Steele estimates that they have processed over 900 thousand cubic yards of slash.

Steele’s enthusiasm for life and preserving the land is infectious – so infectious that she helps encourage hundreds of volunteers a year to give up sunny summer days to turn that forest debris into mulch.

“Ruth Ann is a woman who makes things happen,” said John Bradshaw, a Black Forest landowner. “She has better people skills than anyone I have ever met and she is a great organizer and promoter. If it weren’t for her, this program wouldn’t exist. She took an idea and turned it into something that serves a whole community and the areas surrounding it.”

Steele, a former teacher in the Cherry Creek School district, and her late husband James, bought land in the Black Forest in 1966 and moved there in 1979. The couple immediately fell in love with the land and wanted to make sure that they took good care of it. Steele joined the Colorado Forestry Association so that she could learn about the forest. In 1993 she realized that something needed to be done to educate landowners in the Black Forest about wildfire mitigation.

“We didn’t have any funding, but I along with the Colorado Forestry Association, wanted to do something to protect the forest, so we divided the area into 10 sections and surveyed residents about what we should do,” Steele said.

At the same time, John Fisher, director of El Paso County Solid Waste Management was looking for someone in the Black Forest to start a wildfire prevention program. Fisher learned about Steele’s enthusiasm and helped provide funding and resources to start the slash and mulch program.

Since then, the Black Forest Slash and Mulch has helped landowners remove hundreds of thousands of tons of potential wildfire fuel. In its first season, the program converted 5,000 loads of debris into mulch. In 2002 during the Hayman Fire in Colorado, the program made mulch from 18,000 loads.

Steele was not only instrumental in developing the slash and mulch program, her dedication to the cause continues. Though she hopes to retire from most her slash and mulch duties one of these days, she continues to play a big part in the organization. For years she organized events, called volunteers, wrote grant applications, answered questions, volunteered at the slash site, and developed a yearly annual event complete with information booths, equipment demonstrations, giveaways, and a community skit to encourage participation in the program. She has also written and acquired dozens of information sheets to help residents deal with common forest problems such as mountain pine beetles, dwarf mistletoe, and porcupines.

For more information about the Black Forest Slash and Mulch call 495-3107 or visit www.bfslash.org .

Though she is 87 years old and less than five feet tall, Ruth Ann Steele works hard to prevent fires in Black Forest Colorado.

For the past 20 years Steele has spent thousands of hours educating Black Forest landowners about the dangers of wildfire.

In 1994, Steele developed the Black Forest Slash and Mulch, a program designed to help forest landowners clear their land of fire dangers and provide them with useful mulch. Beginning in May and running through September, landowners bring in slash – pine needles, branches and dead trees – to section 16 in the Black Forest. There the debris is ground up for free and turned into free mulch that area residents can pick up from June through September. In the past 20 years Steele estimates that they have processed over 900 thousand cubic yards of slash.

Steele’s enthusiasm for life and preserving the land is infectious – so infectious that she helps encourage hundreds of volunteers a year to give up sunny summer days to turn that forest debris into mulch.

“Ruth Ann is a woman who makes things happen,” said John Bradshaw, a Black Forest landowner. “She has better people skills than anyone I have ever met and she is a great organizer and promoter. If it weren’t for her, this program wouldn’t exist. She took an idea and turned it into something that serves a whole community and the areas surrounding it.”

Steele, a former teacher in the Cherry Creek School district, and her late husband James, bought land in the Black Forest in 1966 and moved there in 1979. The couple immediately fell in love with the land and wanted to make sure that they took good care of it. Steele joined the Colorado Forestry Association so that she could learn about the forest. In 1993 she realized that something needed to be done to educate landowners in the Black Forest about wildfire mitigation.

“We didn’t have any funding, but I along with the Colorado Forestry Association, wanted to do something to protect the forest, so we divided the area into 10 sections and surveyed residents about what we should do,” Steele said.

At the same time, John Fisher, director of El Paso County Solid Waste Management was looking for someone in the Black Forest to start a wildfire prevention program. Fisher learned about Steele’s enthusiasm and helped provide funding and resources to start the slash and mulch program.

Since then, the Black Forest Slash and Mulch has helped landowners remove hundreds of thousands of tons of potential wildfire fuel. In its first season, the program converted 5,000 loads of debris into mulch. In 2002 during the Hayman Fire in Colorado, the program made mulch from 18,000 loads.

Steele was not only instrumental in developing the slash and mulch program, her dedication to the cause continues. Though she hopes to retire from most her slash and mulch duties one of these days, she continues to play a big part in the organization. For years she organized events, called volunteers, wrote grant applications, answered questions, volunteered at the slash site, and developed a yearly annual event complete with information booths, equipment demonstrations, giveaways, and a community skit to encourage participation in the program. She has also written and acquired dozens of information sheets to help residents deal with common forest problems such as mountain pine beetles, dwarf mistletoe, and porcupines.

For more information about the Black Forest Slash and Mulch call 495-3107 or visit www.bfslash.org .

 

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader

*photo credit

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Random Acts of Birthday Kindness

January 11, 2013 By Leave a Comment

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Why can’t adult birthdays be this fun? :)

Last January I had that birthday that I had been dreading since I was 25 – you know the one.

When I was in my 20s I thought that by the time I was 30 I would have my life figured out and my major dreams realized. But, at the end of December last year, I wasn’t anywhere near a lot of my life goals and I was honestly kind of depressed about it. Not surprisingly, my birthday felt sort of like a funeral for my youth and dreams.

Thankfully, after a few months I realized that 30 wasn’t the end of the world and I made the decision that I would never be depressed about a birthday again. What a waste of a day!

This summer I ran across a blog post about an idea called the birthday project. The writer – a girl named Robyn Bomar – decided to do 38 random acts of kindness to celebrate her 38th birthday. She and her family spent her day doing all kinds of little things to anonymously bless people in her community. They put dollar bills in library books, taped coins to vending machines, gave out gift cards at Starbucks, bought food for people behind them in the fast food drive through, gathered stray shopping carts, took coloring books to a children’s hospital and a dozen other things.

The post inspired me and I have been planning my birthday kindness ever since.

The term “random acts of kindness” is kind of a buzz word now – there are project ideas and causes to support all over the internet. No matter the reason – I think they are a great idea! I have been on the receiving end of a couple of those acts of kindness and I still feel blessed when I think about them. On two different occasions in two different cities, someone anonymously bought my whole family our meal at a restaurant (a $20 or $30 expense!). And each time, it totally made our day!

I like the idea of doing kindness under the radar – it removes any selfish motives (other than knowing blessing others blesses you).

As a general rule I try to be kind to people, but I don’t think I have ever intentionally planned to give someone a random blessing. So, this year I am actually excited about my birthday. I look forward to updating you on the 31 acts of kindness that I do! I hope to do things for strangers and people I know. Even if your birthday isn’t for months I challenge you to do something to help someone else this month. Amazingly, if you bless others, you feel blessed!

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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Celebrating Ordinary Days

January 9, 2013 By Leave a Comment

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Scott City is a little Kansas town that seems to be an epicenter for random tragedies. A few years ago there was a nine months pregnant woman who was widowed when a deer flew through the windshield of her car and killed her husband. Then there’s the house fire that took the lives of a handicapped woman and her two daughters. And, of course, everyone in the area knows about the Spencer family accident – one of the worst to hit the community.

During April of 2011 the Spencers – husband, wife and 2 young daughters – were flying their plane to Topeka to celebrate Easter with family. The day was foggy, causing the father Dylan to crash the plane – killing the entire family.

My friend Mindy – and nearly everyone else in town it seems like – was good friends with the Spencers. Mindy heard the news of the deadly crash when she was in the parking lot of Pamida – getting ready to do some ordinary shopping. When she talked to me about the pain of that day she said something really profound that I haven’t forgotten, “I’ll never take a mundane, normal day for granted again.”

The recent Sandy Hook Elementary school shooting tragedy brought Mindy’s words to my mind. One of the victims of that shooting really hit home with me – a girl named Caroline Previdi. She was a first grader born on the same day as my daughter. I can’t help but think of all the ordinary days that Caroline’s family won’t get to spend with her.

Lately I’ve felt like I’m in a swamp of regular living – taking care of kids with colds, cleaning house, paying bills and making little traction on some seemingly impossible dreams. But these accidents have reminded me that average days are worth cherishing and being thankful for.

It would be easy to become discouraged or stressed about all the recent tragedies in our country, but of course, that doesn’t do any good. Instead I think we should focus on the immediate tragedy of not fully living and enjoying life today.

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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Evelyn’s First Colorado Christmas

January 2, 2013 By Leave a Comment

In case you are missing the Christmas season Smile…

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New socks, shirts and gloves aren’t at the top of most kids’ Christmas lists year – in fact, kids today probably wouldn’t be excited if they received just a gift like that on Christmas morning. But in the 1930s, getting anything new was special for my grandma Evelyn. In fact, she still remembers how thrilled she was to get a pair of red gloves one Christmas morning.

Christmas was simple during Evelyn’s growing up years – there were no decorations and very few gifts. Most gifts that were given were homemade and practical. But during those lean times the meager gifts were still exciting and appreciated. Typically, Evelyn got new socks and underwear for Christmas. But every once in a while, she did get an extra-special, out of the ordinary gift. One of her most treasured presents came during her first Christmas in Colorado.

Evelyn was born in the tree-filled, red dirt country of Coyle Oklahoma – a small town near Stillwater. Times were tough for her family in the late 1920s, so in 1931 the family sold nearly all of their possessions and made a plan to move to Colorado. Evelyn was 4 years old when she and all of her family – one brother, parents, three grandparents, uncle, aunt, and two cousins, loaded up their essentials in two old cars and one beat up truck and made the 600 mile long trip to Bennett Colorado.

Evelyn’s aunt and uncle and cousins headed for Denver once they arrived at Bennett, but Evelyn and the rest of her family stayed and found a farmhouse in the country. The old house they moved into was split into two sides so Evelyn, her parents and brother lived on one side and her grandparents lived on the other one.

Evelyn still remembers how shocked she was to see the dusty, treeless Colorado plains for the first time.

“It was a sad and forlorn country. There was nothing to stop the wind from blowing dirt across the land, almost covering up fences and farm machinery.  Dust was everywhere,” she says. “Livestock had to endure the endless wind and dirt that blew into their shelters and covered the pastureland.  Some did not make it. The fine dust invaded our home.”

That first year that Evelyn lived in Colorado was difficult. Drought was already affecting the area and the women of the house had a full time job keeping dust out of the living areas. Evelyn helped hang wet sheets and blankets over windows and doors in an effort to keep the dust away. When she set the table for a meal, she put dishes upside down until the food was ready to put on the table.

Thankfully, just before Christmas that year, it snowed. The house was icy cold – except by the wood stove, but the whole family was glad to get relief from the relentless blowing dust.

On Christmas Eve the whole family gathered like usual – sharing the light of the kerosene lamp and the warmth of the stove.  But unexpectedly that evening, there was a loud commotion outside.

“We heard bells, stomping of feet and a very loud ‘HO,HO,HO’,” Evelyn remembers. “ My dad told my brother and I to open the door and see what was going on.  Normally we were never allowed to open the door after dark, so we were surprised by my dad’s request. We cracked it open and saw footprints in the snow and a small green table with 2 matching chairs. The table and chairs were just our size – we were so excited. We couldn’t believe that Santa had found us.”

Today, nearly 80 years later, Evelyn still has one of those little chairs and cherishes that Christmas memory and the hope it brought during a difficult year.

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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The Accident

December 3, 2012 By 2 Comments

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My dad has always made it a habit to work six days a week and take Sundays off. Sure, he does the necessary farm and ranch chores on Sunday and handles emergencies if they come up, but other than that he’s made it a day to shut down all farming – even during harvest. It’s a habit he has practiced his whole life.

But on one particular November Sunday, my dad decided to work.

It was a chilly day and started out different than the usual go to church and come home Sunday routine. My mom had to run into Denver with my grandma that day and my youngest brother – the only one still at home – headed to Strasburg for the local turkey shoot. My dad shot trap with my brother for a while, but his leg started hurting (a symptom from a back injury) so he headed home.

He’d originally planned on doing some relaxing at home, but once he got there and sat down, he couldn’t help but think of all the chores he was behind on. One thing that was really bothering him was some trenching that needed done around the house.

So, my dad got to work. He trenched for a while and then decided to make a short trip to house – an idea he regrets.

In a moment that he’s analyzed thousands of times since then, he stopped the trencher and stepped off. As he stepped down and reached to pull the trencher out of gear (it’s easier –but not safer – to pull out of gear when you are on the ground), the tire caught the toe of his boot and began to pull him down.

What followed was a series of seconds that played out in slow motion. As soon as my dad was on the ground, he knew he was going to die. The bones in his right leg popped like a rabbit under a pickup tire. He knew his chest was going to be crushed like a snake on a dirt road. The weight of the tire was intense as it passed over his belt buckle and chest –It was more than enough weight to kill him. The trencher left his body on the left side – missing his head by inches – and leaving track marks on his shoulder.

My dad felt immediate relief and shock of still being alive when the weight of the tire was off of his body, but he’d had the wind knocked out of him and couldn’t catch his breath. He felt a little panicked but was somehow able to roll over onto his stomach and breathe. He saw the trencher driving off in the distance -headed straight for his nice pickup. He tried to pull himself up to go stop it, but he couldn’t. The trencher missed the pickup, but was stopped by the propane tank – it pulled half of it up off the ground and stayed there, spinning its tires.

Nearly as miraculous as the fact he didn’t die, my dad has his phone in his pocket and had enough composure to dial my mom (she didn’t answer), my brother, grandpa and 911.

My dad had surgery on his leg that afternoon, but miraculously only broke two of the bones in his right leg and fractured two ribs that day. No one can explain why the weight of the trencher was strong enough to break his leg bones and yet leave his abdomen and internal organs unharmed.

It’s been three years since the accident and today my dad doesn’t have a single pain or symptom to remind him of his near-death experience.

Right after the accident my family and I were filled with appreciation that my dad was still alive. That whole holiday season was filled with lots of gratitude. But as the years have gone by, I have found myself forgetting that the accident even happened.

But this year, I am trying to remember that near-death experience with thankfulness and a humble spirit. Truly, all of our lives are miracles. It’s become cliché, but every day truly is a gift. I want to live like I believe it.

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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A Thankful Heart

November 16, 2012 By 1 Comment

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Last week we celebrated my son’s 4th birthday. It wasn’t a big affair like my daughter’s barrel racing party – in fact, I prohibited any friends from coming Smile – but I still threw a little get together in honor of my boy.

This is the first year that Garrett made party planning easy for me. He really knew what he wanted: a cake with a red combine on it, ice cream, a toy Case combine, a lawnmower, an excavator with tires (the tracks on others always fall off), a Mack truck and a John Deere sprayer.

Between my husband and I and my parents we got him everything he wanted (I was so happy he likes inexpensive gifts!). And a talented lady from our church made a cute combine cake. It was absolutely everything he wanted. I knew it was going to be perfect. (Can you see where this is going?)

On the day of his birthday we watched one of his favorite movies, played tractors, let him choose what we had for breakfast, lunch and supper and just had an all-around day of Garrett. My parents came out the evening of his day and ate cake and ice cream with us. Garrett not only got all the gifts he wanted that night – he also got a few more neat ones my parents and the mailman brought from friends and other relatives.

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After he opened his last gift he played on the floor with his new things for a few minutes and then was ready for more. With my sweetest mom voice I quietly told him that he had opened everything. I pointed out all the great features of his new toys too and offered to play on the floor with him. But instead of taking me up on my offer, Garrett put on his most grumpy, spoiled child face and yelled, “I want more and more and more and more toys!”

I blushed a few shades of red and prayed that my parents hadn’t heard his tirade. I could only imagine what they were thinking about this bratty, ungrateful kid we were raising. I went to pull Garrett aside and give him my speech about how much more he has than all the poor kids in China, but thankfully my husband took over (he is so much better at discipline!) and gave him a much more age-appropriate discussion in the back room.

Everything was fine after that and Garrett spent the rest of the evening happily enjoying his guests and new toys. I just blew off the incident as a moment of childhood misbehavior and moved on.

The next day though, Garrett was at it again. He was still not happy (thankfully we had no guests to witness it) and was looking for more toys and had made a big new list of things he wanted.

My husband and I have always made it a priority teach our kids to be kind and thankful and his attitude was starting to make me angry. After what seemed like the hundredth complaint to come out of his sweet little mouth I snapped (and am not proud of it!).

I grabbed the laundry basket and starting chucking toys in – old toys, new toys and especially favorite toys. I wanted this to be painful. As Garrett yelled in protest I grabbed more toys and shoved them in the basket and I mumbled about our stupid small house and the lack of storage and how the kids needed separate bedrooms …..and then, like a thunderbolt from heaven it hit me.

Sure, I had been talking to my kids a lot about being thankful, but I hadn’t been acting thankful.

I’d fallen into a discontent attitude. Complaints under my breath had become commonplace in our home – I’d been gripping about everything from my weight to politics. Even our family prayers at night had become a place for me and the kids to vent our gimmes. No wonder my son was complaining. He was acting just like me.

I apologized to Garrett and had another thankfulness talk. This time though, I made sure I was listening to what I was saying.

 

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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Barrel Racing Birthday Party–Part 1

November 14, 2012 By Leave a Comment

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I love to plan parties- especially parties that have any kind of western theme. So I was thrilled when my almost seven-year-old daughter decided that she wanted to have a barrel racing birthday party last month. I knew that was something that I could pull off with ease. She was going to be impressed and so were her new friends. I was definitely going to be the coolest mom at her new school.

Looking back, my arrogance was the first sign that there would be trouble.

There aren’t many places to have a birthday party in Scott City – I considered the park and Pizza Hut – but in the end decided to just have the party at our little house. My daughter Shayla wanted to make some crafts, so having the party at home just made sense (and was cheaper than buying pizza!).

The guest list started out small – just a few friends that she’d met at church over the summer. Decorations started out small too. Shayla has had some sort of horse party every year since she was born, so I had a few basic horse party supplies already. I just made an Oriental Trading order for horse balloons and some fun horse-themed crafts (they all come in a 12-pack – which I knew would be enough) and I was ready to go.

I couldn’t find any barrel racing party supplies (someone needs to make some!) so I made my own table centerpieces and invitations with barrel racing clip art. A talented friend agreed to make a barrel racing cake. I came up with a stick horse rodeo game and found some first grade level barrel racing books to give as party favors. All the details came together well. I planned to take lots of pictures to post on my blog – I knew my great ideas would increase my blog traffic significantly.

School started a couple of weeks before Shayla’s birthday and she met lots of girls she liked there. When it was time to send out the invites, Shayla not only wanted to invite her church friends, she wanted to invite five girls from her class. I started to feel some pressure. I know how little girls talk and how sad it it feels to not be invited to a party. So I caved and invited all the girls in the class. I told myself that it would be great to get to know them all. We sent out 15 birthday invitations. I was a little worried about only having purchased 12 craft kits, but as any party planner knows, everyone rarely attends a party. I figured at most I’d have 8 girls come.

When 13 girls showed up at our door for the party on that September Saturday I had a sinking feeling that I’d bit off way more than I could chew.

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To be continued tomorrow….

See more of my columns at the Fence Post’s website – just search for Shelli Mader!

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