What’s Your Norm?

Dear Reader,

In case you were wondering, it is still wet in Florida. We went four days without rain; we were able to use our driveway without being afraid of getting stuck, the round pen was dry, and it was glorious. It was a welcome break because a muddy driveway can be tough on vehicles. Even though all of our trucks are four-wheel drive, it will still wear on them. Just this week we had to replace the wheel bearing on my truck after only two years. Some of this may be because I drive a Dodge (cough), but I think it has a lot do with how hard ranching can be on your vehicles. We sometimes have to be creative and do things that they would not recommend in the owner’s manual.

Less mud and wetness is just better for everyone. I don’t mean that I want a drought, but when things get wet and stay wet it tends to breed bugs and disease. Sometimes when it is hot and muggy, and I am being swarmed by mosquitos, I think of the first Spanish explorers and how they must have been so miserable, lost in what they thought was an endless swamp

 It is funny sometimes what we think is normal and routine can be shocking or strange to someone else. Food preferences, for example, can be vary widely by culture and even by household. I love to put honey on my plain scrambled eggs (orange blossom honey is the best). This started as the only way my mom could get me to eat my eggs as a toddler, but I grew up thinking everyone did this. I also like to put hot sauce on my grits, I think that this is a blending of my Southern and Mexican cultures, but definitely not everyone does that. The practicality of our everyday lives and the cultures that we come from often shape the norms of our lives.

For example, if you were to take a tour of my bedroom, a lot of things would seem like the average American bedroom: bunkbeds, bookshelves, dressers, and a closet. But the contents might be a little different in a rancher’s daughter’s bedroom than the average American female.

For starters, there is the semen tank that is right next to my bookshelf. My sister, who artificially inseminates cattle as part of her business, has to keep a tank full of frozen bull semen straws. We usually keep it the living room, but it got moved to my bedroom when we had a family get together. (We thought it would be safer for a tank with liquid nitrogen in it to not be within reach of little hands.)

A few days ago, there was a saddle on its stand in the middle of my bedroom. My dad had just gotten a new saddle that a friend in South Dakota had made and needed to add some billet straps to it before he put it into the barn. So, my bedroom smelled like a tack shop for a day or two, which was fine by me. (Ok, I will say it was a bit of a chore to get my clothes out of my dresser, but the smell made up for it).

Other honorable mentions in my room include bits, bridles, and other small pieces of random tack that are too nice to be kept in the barn. You will find a few nice show halters hanging up next to our dresses in the closet. You will also find big yellow slickers in our closets. Why not keep those in the barn when we usually only wear them to work cattle? Great question, because no one wants a surprise roach or spider when they are trying to put on a slicker while on a horse!

 Another thing that is a little unusual is that our house smells like guavas in every corner. That is something that I do not, will not, cannot like. A friend had given us a box and when I walked in from work the first words out of my mouth were, “What stinks?!” Only to be promptly and playfully told by my dad that the only thing that stunk in the room was my attitude. (I am the only one in the family who does not like guavas. But today was guava jelly making day so it should air out of the house soon.

Sincerely and Not Normal,

The Rancher’s Daughter