Good Saturday to you all!
It’s been a perfectly snarly winter day in Pocatello and beyond. In point of fact, I had a dark chill seep into the marrow of my bones early this afternoon, which resulted in a hot shower, buckets of hot tea and a gorgeous potato, dill and buttermilk soup for dinner.
But this morning…well…I’ll let you see for yourself!
RW and I headed out to the Gilbert Ranch to play cowboy and cowgirl
for a stint. This is what it looked like:
[THANKS FOR THIS PHOTO, MURPHY]
The Gilberts run about 120 head of beef, free range, on the backside of the mountains they live on. Around Christmas time, this year, the family lost a father and husband (you are missed, Todd) Since then, the girls, their spouses and the current or former Snake River Hotshot boys, among others, have stepped up to run and help out at the ranch in the wake of Mister Gilbert’s death.
It’s a heartbreaking thing, to be out there on horseback, sorting heifers in the snowfall.
It’s a heartbreaking thing, to be part of an iconic American heritage that is slowly dying out all across the Rocky Mountains and the great plains.
It’s a heartbreaking thing to sit a cowhorse and feel it coil and collect beneath you as your legs wrap tight around a barrel and your heels hang deep off the edge of a pair of stirrups. One hand on the reins. One hand on your hip. SQUINT INTO THE SUN NOW.
It’s crushing to listen to a girl talk about her father and the kind of man he was, one of the last true cowboys, while perched on a fence rail with her.
It’s a heartbreaking thing to walk on that horse through a pasture where newborn calves, coats like crushed soft velvet, walk with their mothers, or sleep, curled up on the ground with their noses tucked up against their hind legs.
There’s a boy ain’t this life damn romantic kind of feeling that takes over in a girl.
And-when-you-walk-inside-for-a-sausage-potato-and-egg-scramble-with-salsa-you-feel-glad-for-the-hot-food-and-you-watch-Blake-oil-his-new-saddle-and-think-about-how-much-you-want-a-horse-again…it was that kind of day.
I love the Gilberts.
I love their cowhorses.
I love ranch life.
And I hope the Gilbert Ranch is a living legacy for generations to come,
not only for the sake of this beautiful BEAUTIFUL family, but for the sake of the
story of the American West. This is one gorgeous gingham patch
in a brilliant, far reaching quilt.
For the Gilbert Women who were left behind in December:
You’re strong and beautiful and when you’re weak, we’ll help hold you up.
You make Carhartts look fine and you make crap covered boots look fashion forward.
But more importantly, you are strong of spirit and you have God on your side.
Take heart.
Who can be against you?
Blake, you’re one of the best men we know.
We believe in all of you.
Always,
Jillian & Robert
Oh gosh, how I long for farm life.
Jillian, I am always touched by your photographs. They have such soul! Thank you for sharing them with us 🙂
For some reason, these photos made me think of the HBO movie about Temple Grandin that I watched recently.
Thanks for sharing your Saturday with us!
Thank you for reminding us of people who have made this country and continent great, the stewardship of the land and the creatures that inhabit it. Sorry for the loss of your friend.
Bless the cowboys/cowgirls of generations past and bless the ones that carry it forward.
Can I come out to help with the brandings? I'll cut cattle and lope alongside those women any day. Just say the word.
I love this! I don't know you, but I know the Gilbert family. They are amazing.
Oh, this heartbreaking and gorgeous. <3.
What a beautiful story-I long for the wide open ranges of Idaho again and the beautiful aroma of cow dung…you are a lucky couple to be able to enjoy all of this with such wonderful people as they are carrying on their fathers work. God bless you all and hugs to that little black calf who is giving out kisses;0) XXOO Sally
this makes me ache for farm stomping preg checking calf roping poo smelling hay breathing grain feeding cow slobber wiping and all the rest…i think the job i have is great, but sometimes i really do miss the cow stuff. i love those big gentle slobbery creatures. love. and aren't calves pretty much the cutest things ever?!
this is a sad but happy story. the family's lucky to have each other, and lucky to have such great friends.
xoxo