Many years ago when I was in Jr. high, one of my teachers happened to be a cattle rancher. He was my favorite teacher and I did quite well in his class. He reminded me of my Grandpa Low who was a cattle rancher himself. I grew up around horses and cattle and Grandpa Low's rough and tuff cowboy ways. I loved helping Grandpa when he went to check on them or feed them hay. I would climb up in the hay stacks and play with the mice I found there. Grandpa would always give me a pair of his big ole gloves so I couldn't get bitten. I have many memories of Grandpa and the cows.
So back to my story about my teacher. One day in class Mr. Grover handed us some question and answer sheets about cows and the different breeds. Mr. Grover explained to us that this was a contest with other classes through out the states. I didn't think much of it agreeing with my friends that I knew nothing about cows. However, I filled it out to the best of my knowledge. Several months later much to my surprise, Mr. Grover excitedly let our class know
that I had taken 2nd in this contest. I can't remember what my prize was since I was much to shocked that I knew more then what I thought I knew. Just goes to show that Parents/Grandparents are our most important teachers. I've always LOVED cows, I love taking pictures of them and when we pass the Ranch to go to town from Needles, I love to stop and talk to them - reminding me of the good ole days with Grandpa.
So, recently I shared this story with my favorite Uncle Ross. My memories brought up memories for him. After I wrote him an e-mail about the cow contest he sent me an e-mail back to me. This is another story in my life:
Thanks hon,
Made me laugh though. It sparked a memory in me, of when you were about three years old or so. As you will remember, dad kept horses in the pasture behind the house. The gate to it was in the back yard. One day, when we were getting ready to bridle up a couple of them, the gate was left open, intentionally so as to facilitate the chore. Anyway, one of the mares came out of the gate and onto the yard, unbridled, unassisted. It scared the pee waddins out of you and you started screaming at your grandpa, "The horse is out of its cage! The horse is out of its cage!" I don't remember the exact words Grandpa said to your dad, but I do recall the stern, disgusted look he shifted his way as he said the equivalent to, "You gotta get this little girl out more!"
So, some time along the way, Grandpa must have taught you about livestock and the difference between pastures and cages and such.
Thnx for the pics
XOXO
Ross
So back to my story about my teacher. One day in class Mr. Grover handed us some question and answer sheets about cows and the different breeds. Mr. Grover explained to us that this was a contest with other classes through out the states. I didn't think much of it agreeing with my friends that I knew nothing about cows. However, I filled it out to the best of my knowledge. Several months later much to my surprise, Mr. Grover excitedly let our class know
that I had taken 2nd in this contest. I can't remember what my prize was since I was much to shocked that I knew more then what I thought I knew. Just goes to show that Parents/Grandparents are our most important teachers. I've always LOVED cows, I love taking pictures of them and when we pass the Ranch to go to town from Needles, I love to stop and talk to them - reminding me of the good ole days with Grandpa.
So, recently I shared this story with my favorite Uncle Ross. My memories brought up memories for him. After I wrote him an e-mail about the cow contest he sent me an e-mail back to me. This is another story in my life:
Thanks hon,
Made me laugh though. It sparked a memory in me, of when you were about three years old or so. As you will remember, dad kept horses in the pasture behind the house. The gate to it was in the back yard. One day, when we were getting ready to bridle up a couple of them, the gate was left open, intentionally so as to facilitate the chore. Anyway, one of the mares came out of the gate and onto the yard, unbridled, unassisted. It scared the pee waddins out of you and you started screaming at your grandpa, "The horse is out of its cage! The horse is out of its cage!" I don't remember the exact words Grandpa said to your dad, but I do recall the stern, disgusted look he shifted his way as he said the equivalent to, "You gotta get this little girl out more!"
So, some time along the way, Grandpa must have taught you about livestock and the difference between pastures and cages and such.
Thnx for the pics
XOXO
Ross
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