AT THE RANCH

When I was a little girl, about 4 years old, I think, I went to my grandfather Carson’s Arizona cattle ranch. I remember a lot of details about that trip.

 I remember that the Ranch House was huge, it was like a huge pole barn, with tables and leather couches. I remember there was a very large fireplace at the back end and a galley kitchen, with a huge griddle stove at the front of the house. There were windows stretching down both the sides of the great room. On one side sat Carson’s work desk. Behind his desk, across the windows, were wooden shelves. The shelves were lined with jars of all sizes. Hundreds of jars. Each containing rattlesnake rattles. It was a sight I will never forget.  

I remember that Carson gave my brother and me magnets to play in the dirt with. We pulled iron out of the dirt for hours. 

I remember that the “cow hands” were branding the cattle on one of the days I was there. I was so excited to climb the side of the cattle shoot to watch the cows. But as my 4 year old little self stood up there on the metal rungs of the shoot, I was horrified to see that the cows were being hurt. I didn’t watch for very long. 

 

I also remember taking horseback rides with my grandmother. We rode through the desert ranch, through the sage brush and all the tumbleweeds. 

 

I remember that there were lots of black widow spiders there in the desert. Lots!

We stayed in one of the bunk houses. It was nice, not as rugged  as I would have thought it should have been, as an adult. But there were several older bunk houses. They had been unused for years. My grandmother had collected all the glass door knobs from the old bunk houses, replacing them with newer more sturdy ones. I remember how the glass knobs were different colors. Grandma told me that the years in the sun changed the colors. 

I really wish I could go back and see it all again. These memories are priceless to me!