Our geese.

Posted on April 25, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Our summer guests showed up this morning. I heard them honking when I woke up, but I didn’t think it was them. I thought it was another flock flying over, looking for the river, the neighbor’s stock dam or the big lakes east of us.

But the honking persisted.

So I got up from my desk to look out the window and up at the sky where there were no geese, just blue and I thought I’d gone crazy.

It was possible, seven months of winter will do that to a woman.

I sat back down with my coffee and heard Husband call from the kitchen where he stood with his face plastered to the sliding glass door.

“Look down there,” he said, pointing to a patch of brown earth below the house.

“The geese are back.”

And so they were.

The geese.

Our geese, who spend the summer floating and canoodling with the pair of ducks in the stock dam outside our window.

The sight of those big, lanky birds walking around and honking between the snow banks was a welcome sight. We had been waiting for them to show up, as if their appearance solidified what is still quite unbelievable to us.

Summer is coming.

And just like spring, I would have loved to welcome this couple a bit sooner, but they know what they’re doing.

This isn’t the pair’s first trip back North. It isn’t their first spring together.

And had they arrived Monday they would have come home to this.

But they didn’t. They arrived on a day that turned into sixty degrees. A day I imagined they spent getting reacquainted with the place and showing the third guy around.

I’ve never seen a third goose. I wonder if he’ll stay?

Husband and I opened the door to let in the sunny morning air and watched as the familiar animals waddled and honked and moved closer to the house. We laughed as the pug stood stoic and protective outside the door, contemplating the size, shape and strength of the intruders before deciding to retreat.

We wondered what the hell our bird dog was doing in a time of such an invasion?

We said we loved these geese and were glad they were home.

We said, it’s nice to see them isn’t it?

We said, isn’t it amazing that they keep coming home?

We said we were glad they were still together.

And then we turned away from the window, back to work, back to life and into another season together.

Spring, around the world!

Posted on April 22, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Happy Earth Day friends! The sun is shining at the ranch, reflecting off the sparkly, melty snow and streaming in the window of this house. I am so happy to see it that I’m pretending not to notice the layer of construction dust it is also illuminating.

It’s a perfect day to share the photos I’ve received of spring from around the world! Your photos were just what I needed to recognize that rain or snow, clouds or sunshine, nature has a rhythm and a reason and never fails to fascinate and intrigue. It seems that no matter the location or climate, all of us have that wonder in common.

So thanks for playing along and sharing a little piece of your world with us. The temperatures are still far below average in North Dakota, but I’ve got my eye on the sky and Cliff the weatherman and am hoping to find some color out there soon.

It was hard to chose a winner and hard not to favor the scenes that make spring more believable, but it had to be done, so a big congratulations to Colleen in California! Your photo of the green hills of your home reminded me of my own in that brief time after the spring rains when the colors seem like a painting. Pure beauty.

Photo by Colleen in California
“Hi Jessie, this is how spring is looking in our part of California.
Warmest regards, no pun intended…”

Send me an email to jessieveeder@gmail.com with your address and I’ll send you a copy of my new album “Nothing’s Forever” and a print of spring at the ranch. Maybe you can hang the two side by side and think of your friend freezing up here in the great white (and sometimes green) north!

Now kick back and enjoy your images of spring from around the globe, and feel free to give a shout out to your favorite!

sylvia mindingthefarm.wordpress.com Photo by Sylvia in the Philippines from www.mindingthefarm.wordpress.com
“I took this picture last month (March 8) from my bedroom window in our house in the city. The bird is a Yellow-vented Bulbul (Pycnonotus goiavier). They are very common garden birds. It is eating a macopa. In English it is known as the Malay Apple, Mountain Apple or the Tersana Rose Apple. The fruit of this tree growing outside our window doesn’t seem that sweet though. The birds mostly ignore it.”

Photo by my friend Cami in Washington, DC. Baby with Cherry Blossoms
“I snapped this picture when my mom and I took Linnea to the Tidal Basin to take in the famed cherry blossom trees. She’s in a little playsuit my mom bought at your mama’s store.”

Photo by Barb in Kenmare, ND
“Is it SPRING yet?!”

Photo by Lois from Waco, TX
“I was born in North Dakota but have not lived there in quite awhile. I do remember the snow though. So here is how spring is shaping up in Central Texas–a little slow, but coming along. I live in Waco, Texas and I am a wild flower freak. Here is a photo to cheer you up–taken April 17th, on Rattler Hill Road–one of my favorite places to go “wildflowering”. By the way, there are no Bluebonnets in the photo.”

Photo by my friend Kathy from Alexander, ND
“This was taken one of the first days of spring, 2013, in Tarpon Springs, Florida at a HS classmate and his wife’s home… the greenery did my eyes wonder…it made me long for our Dakota spring green…I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll see it this year or if 2013 is going to skip spring, summer and fall and head right back into old man winter!”

Photo by my friend Calli from a ranch outside Watford City, ND
“I wish these weren’t my “spring” photos, but they are 😦 Ha! This photo is of Ty sitting in her lawn chair waiting for spring to come”

Photo by Kathie in Naples, FL
“The view from our lanai in Naples, FL”

Photo of Blue the Dog by Jody in Breckenridge, MN
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS SPRING!”

Photo of my cousin’s beautiful daughter by my aunt Judi in Texas
“Texas Sweethearts Spring 2013”

Photo by Betty in Black Hawk, SD
“I’m afraid we are in the same boat Jessie!!! Last week it was two feet of the white stuff. This week not so much, but as I look out my window, there are a few flakes playing tag with each other in their rush to the earth!! We welcome each and every one because we need the moisture. How I’ll welcome the sunshine when it chooses to show it’s warm face. The hyacinths, and tulips will rejoice with me and we will celebrate Spring along with you as western Dakota becomes green again.”

Photo by Lynda in California
“Despite the cold, despite the sadness, despite everything going on; the roses come up each spring and has me amazed and filled with joy every single time!!!”

Photo by Melanie from Fargo, ND
“Crocuses in my mom’s yard in Fargo. A little color beside the snow”

Photo by Lynda in Tarves, Aberdeenshire, N E Scotland
“Beautiful crocus flowers opening their buds towards the Spring sunshine in Tarves, Aberdeenshire, N E Scotland. Spring very late this year but Mrs Blackbird sitting comfortably on her nest today and buds on trees now appearing! Onwards!”

Photo by my friend Megan up the road!
Don’t be confused… This is from Monday, not Christmas! 😉
“Thought I would share my 2 favorite things to photograph all year around… My barn and my boys… Which I’m guessing were both hoping the sun would come out and the white stuff would quit falling!
Happy “SPRING HAS SPRUNG” from up the road a couple miles.”

Photo by Barb in northern Oregon
“In northern Oregon Spring has sprung. The Western Meadowlarks provide the dawn to dusk soundtrack for this photo. Seems like all of the birds are in pairs: the geese, the Scrub Jays, the White-crowned sparrows. The Song sparrows are pulling bark off of the ninebark and I wonder if the poor bush will be stripped before the nest is complete. And then there are the wild flowers. When the lupine blooms amid the arrowroot, cold temps and cloudy days aside, there’s no denying spring.”

Photo by Harriet in the Faroe Islands @ www.olafsdottir.wordpress.com
“Here in The Faroe Islands we sure get happy when the sky’s blue and the sun is out 🙂 Although today is rainy, I took this photo the other day where spring really showed it’s sunny side :)”

Photo by my cousin Shanna in snowy Fargo, ND @ www.franzenfive.wordpress.com
“Yet ANOTHER snowy day and not so much fun to play outside yet! So my Munchkins expressed their feelings about our “Fargo spring” through some artwork on our patio door with their window markers today. On the left it says “Spring is NOT in the air”, there is a snowman at the beach, a sad-faced sun, and an angry orange monster at the bottom who “ate up all the snow and punched winter in the face” (his words, not mine).”

Photo by my cousin Seth (Shanna’s brother) in Washington, DC.
Here he is trying to make us jealous…
“Two of the highlights of living in our nation’s capital: The monuments and spring cherry blossoms! Oh, and temps in the 70s ;)”

Photo by Kaye from Grand Junction, CO
“On the left: my tulips on Saturday. On the right: my tulips today. Springtime in the Rockies, what are you gonna do…Usually our spring is warm, windy and drier than we’d like. This year, cool, windy, some wet.”

Photo by Ed in Glen Ullin, ND
“Robins in a sea of white.”

Photo by Rachel in Brueau, ID
“Our Spring is looking windy and dry, we’re still feeding hay.”

Photo by Linda in California @ www.ANatureMom.com
“Here’s a little bit of California to brighten your day! Due to drought-like conditions this winter, spring arrived early for us. The upshot is that there are beautiful wildflowers blooming everywhere!”

Thanks again for your submissions. You made my spring a little warmer and brighter!

Sunday Column: Living with the wild things

Posted on April 21, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Well, party people, look what the weekend drug in.

Snow and rain and not a green thing in site. Thanks to everyone who’s been sharing thier spring photos on the Facebook page and email. Every pretty flower cheers me and every snow flurry makes me feel less alone in this arctic tundra!

It’s not too late to get in on the game! Whether the birds are chirping in the warm sunshine or retreating back to the southern climates, abandoning the whole migration idea all together, show us how spring is shaping up in your neck of the woods and I will post them all on the website Monday. Our favorite photo will win a copy of my new album “Nothing’s Forever” and a print of a warmer and prettier spring day at the Veeder Ranch.

So make (and warm up) my day and post your photos on the Facebook page or send me an email at jessieveeder@gmail.com

In the meantime, read my Fargo Forum column on the other unpredictable thing around here–wildlife.

Coming Home: Humans, beasts learn to coexist.
Jessie Veeder, Fargo Forum
April, 21, 2013

Because like snow in April, some things just need to keep thier distance.

Peace, Love and Sunday Pancakes,

Jessie

How spring is springing. Contest Alert!

Posted on April 17, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

It seems I woke up today to find that my positive attitude about all of this snow storm bullshit has melted away.

Unlike the snow itself.

No, that snow is not melting any time soon. In fact, it’s settled in nice and compact and crusty on the top of my car, which I attempted to dig out of the icy, hard snow this morning on my quest to get to town.

But, as most simple tasks go around here, it didn’t happen without a fight. Nope. Even after letting the defrost do its thing for a good twenty-five minutes I had to attack the three foot snow drift on my windshield with the power and might of Wonder Woman if Wonder Woman’s weapon of choice was an ice scraper.

Which it is not. I guess I’m not sure what Wonder Woman uses to combat evil, but it has to be something besides her leotard…wait…I’m Googling it…

en.wikipedia.org

Oh, look at that, it’s the Lasso of Truth.
And indestructible bracelets.
And, of course, her tiara.

But since the snowdrift wasn’t lying about making my morning difficult and beating the car or throwing a fancy but dangerous piece of jewelry at the thing wasn’t going to help me with the task at hand, I summoned, unsuccessfully, the aid of the Hulk instead.

But he must have been busy trying to control his uncontrollable rage, something that coincidentally I was practicing at the moment as well, so I was on my own.

On my own with the windshield wipers and my ice scraper as I freed myself from the drift and headed up the icy hills sending snow chunks flinging off my car in every direction, just rolling down the highway like Cruella DeVille.

And then I heard on the radio that it’s supposed to snow this weekend.

And then I screamed: Waaaahhhhhh!!!!!

So, to make myself feel better I decided it’s time for another contest ya’ll (Yes, I’m bringing ya’ll to the North Country…maybe it will make us warmer).

I know there are a few of you out there who are living in much warmer climates. Climates that are actually accommodating and welcoming green things by now.

I want to see them.

But most of all, I want to see what spring is doing in other parts of the world.

So whether it’s blossoming or blowing snow, whether you live in the North Pole or down in the heated heart of Texas where, unlike me, they actually pull the whole “ya’ll” thing off, I want to see your photos!

Here’s how it works.

Visit Meanwhile’s Facebook Page www.facebook.com/veederranch and share your Spring 2013 photo on my wall. (you may also shoot me an email at jessieveeder@gmail.com)
Tell me where you live and how your spring is shaping up and Husband and I will take a look and pick a winner.

I will share all of your spring photos on Monday’s blog and our favorite submission will win a copy of my CD, “Nothing’s Forever” and a matted print of my favorite spring photo.

Let the games begin!

Peace, love and lilacs already!

Jessie

A billion little reasons to love a spring storm.

Posted on April 16, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

A spring storm swept across the state this weekend, creating drifts in the valleys, shutting down the interstate from Montana to Minnesota, breaking accumulation records and closing schools, businesses, post offices, newspaper offices and pretty much every office in between.

I watched the white stuff fall from the spring sky on Saturday while Pops and I placed rocks on my wall near the kitchen, Husband climbed the big red ladder to put trim on the tall windows and Father in Law wired the outlets in the master bedroom.

We are gonna get this house done. Like the snowflakes, little by little we’re changing the way things look around here.

And so we weren’t much bothered by the weather because it meant we weren’t tempted to abandon our indoor projects for something we could tinker with under the warm spring sun.

Yup, we were given a few more days of winter to finish up our inside world before abandoning it for the great outdoors in the three warm but short months we call summer.

Mark my words, when the sun shines, I am opening these windows and doors and not coming back inside until the sun goes down on the day.

Because, yes, it’s spring, but North Dakotans have not packed away their mittens and coveralls just yet. No. We all know better. We know to keep the shovels leaning up against the doorway, our boots in the entryway and an extra set of coveralls in the truck. We know we’re not out of the snowy woods until June turns into July 4th and the mosquitos have settled in for the long haul.

Spring storms like this, as I’ve said, are hard on the cattle and the calves being born, but I know there are some ND farmers out there thankful for the moisture.

The rest of us, it appears, are getting a kick out of it. Because if the residents of this state are known for anything it’s for our tolerance for this arctic tundra we live in. And a winter storm mid-April just confirms all the notions that our state is a tundra and the people who live here are bundled up snug, tough, and a just a little crazy.

So we send each other photos of kids building snow forts, our dogs jumping through drifts, our husbands clearing snow and the big pile that’s blocking our front door.

And then we ask, “how much did you get? 15 inches you suppose? Can you believe this?! Haven’t seen a spring storm like this for years!”

But we know spring always comes, so we’re ok. We know all this snow will have turned to water running through culverts and cutting little rivers in our gravel roads by the end of the month.

So we go out and take a look, check on our neighbors, shovel our driveways and unstuck the stuck things.

Husband and I are no different. After a day cooped up in home construction mode, we were happy for a bonus snow day. After the morning coffee we were eager to asses the damage and see if we could get out of the nook we created for ourselves.

Four-wheel drive is my hero.

So is the county blade.

A hero to us, and the semi jack-knifed down below that hill in the draw between our house and Mom and Dad’s.

I should have stopped to ask him if he could plow a trail for the pug…

Anyway, when our little exploration was finished, we pulled back in the yard, Husband trudged up the steps to strip off his layers and shrug his shoulders and let the snow be.

I stayed outside poking around, snapping photos, kicking around the drifts and thinking it’s kind of cool to live in a place that can be so unpredictable.

Because Californians may have the sunshine, but they don’t get unexpected snow days. They don’t get to wake up to a phone call telling you to stay home this Monday because the weather demands it, and everyone else is doing the same. And you don’t really know what snuggling is or how good warm feels until you’ve rosied your cheeks and numbed your fingers behind the grip of a snow shovel.

Funny how all that white blanketing our landscape, piling on our cars, sticking to our wool caps, dangling from our rooftops, closing our interstates and putting our lives on hold is simply an accumulation of billions and billions of tiny, beautiful, delicate little miracles intricately designed to fall from the sky and land on this earth where we squeeze them into snow balls, scrape them from our windshields, taste them on our tongues, curse them to our neighbor, crunch them under our boots, report them on the evening news and watch them dance and blow outside our window.

The snowflake.

It’s a reason to love winter, even when the season has worn out its welcome.

Because only the wrath of nature could make us truly believe that tiny things…

can make a huge difference.

Sunday Column: What quiet means.

Posted on April 14, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

We’re in the middle of a full-on April blizzard, blowing in strong and fierce across the state, promising feet of snow to settle on the tops of the buttes that were drying out quiet nicely last week.

It’s the kind of weather that’s hard on ranchers and calves being born. The kind of weather that makes North Dakotan’s say, “Well, enough is enough,” and book flights to Arizona, or Houston, or Jamaica, or someplace where people don’t remember what snow looks like.

But a flight out of here for us is out of the question, and just last weekend those hills accumulating snow were working on drying out quiet nicely. So I climbed to the top, looking for a chance to clear my head.

Looking for some quiet.

And I thought about what that meant as trucks rolled by on the red scoria road and birds came home.

Visit the link below to read my Fargo Forum column, “Coming Home”

Finding a new quiet in Boomtown
Jessie Veeder, Fargo Forum
Published 4/14/2013
Fargo Forum

The Fargo Forum is a newspaper out of Fargo, ND, in eastern North Dakota’s, the state’s largest city.
My columns on life in Western North Dakota appear each Sunday in print at online at www.inforum.com

Close up!

Posted on April 12, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I’m obsessed with observing. I could sit on the top of a hill in the spring and listen to the wind, watch the bugs come to life and inspect the ground for any sign of green for hours. I’ve been known to do it.I’m also known for bringing my camera every where I go, another little obsession and one my family and husband don’t always appreciate, but will thank me for when they are old and gray and trying to remember where they put the glasses they have dangling around their necks or pushed up on their heads.

I will show them these photos and remind them how young and beautiful they used to be.

And they will love me for it.

Anyway, on Tuesday a little treasure I’ve been pining for for a few years showed up in the mail, and I was like a kid on Christmas, rushing to get home so I could try it out.

A few years ago I wouldn’t have guessed that something like a camera lens would provide me such joy, but there I was, running around the countryside, putting my nose near the dirt next to an acorn, squatting down to inspect the mud, leaning in to see what that horse hair looks like dangling from the barbed wire, because now, with this new little miracle piece of equipment, I was able to capture it.Because I’ve always been fascinated with the way our world looks close up. I generally don’t care so much for bugs, but when a photographer can show me the sparkle of their wings or the dynamics of their eyes, I suddenly think flies are beautiful.

So when my lens arrived I went on an all out mission to find a some sort of living, flying thing out there so I could test my macro-photography skills.

Little did I know that the only living insect in North Dakota was currently coming back to life in the windowsill of my bedroom.

But that’s ok. I needed practice on non-moving things before I moved on to tiny, living things that move really really fast.Taking a look and seeing the familiar a little bit differently is a nice little adventure. And so I relished it a bit because I knew what was waiting for me when I got inside involved mortar and holding heavy things.

So here’s what our world looks like right now up close.

Green grass,and mud,and barbed wire,and horse hair,and left-over flowers,and rocks,and lots of brown things.

And although my little sister, who once declared brown as her favorite color because she felt sorry for it, would commend me for finding the beauty in the mud, I just really can’t wait for wildflower season.

And I really can’t wait for this house to be done.

So if you need me, I’ll be avoiding it and out looking for some color.

So that was Tuesday.

Posted on April 10, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Today is Tuesday.

It started like this.

And ended like this.

And in between I wrapped my robe around me and cursed the blasted cold that came in with the blasted snow in a real-live and never unexpected spring blizzard, officially making April my least favorite month of the year, only because it’s turned into a merciless tease.

I mean, last night the temperature nearly dropped below zero and this morning my car groaned and moaned while it worked to turn over.

And when I finally got it all warmed up and pointed it toward town, I passed the creek next to the highway that was open and flowing on Sunday, welcoming the geese home by providing them a nice place to float. Today those geese were all tucked up in little balls on top of the frozen water, occasionally lifting their heads from under their wings to look at one another, tap the ice and say “what the hell?”

What the hell indeed, I said as I followed a truck for the remaining 20 miles as it dropped and flung dangerously large clumps of mud and rocks at my windshield, just tootling on his merry way.

But I didn’t get another rock chip. Not right then anyway and not that I would notice considering I’ve accumulated about a dozen or so on my journeys through the oil patch.

No, I saved the rock chip for the way home from Boomtown, where I saw a man walking down the street rocking a legit kilt and looking damn good doing it, which is something you just don’t see every day around here and that pretty much made my day so I didn’t really mind the rock chip that came next.

And so I made it home safe to make bacon for dinner, which is always a good idea, but then I had to deal with all of these strawberries, because in a delusional, Martha Stewart type moment last week I ordered eight pounds from the food co-op. But now I don’t know what to do with them, because it’s still too damn cold for rhubarb and the only thing I know how to make out of strawberries is strawberry-rhubarb jam and strawberry smoothies.

So unless someone from a warmer climate wants to send me some rhubarb, it looks like I’ll be having strawberry smoothies until next fall.

And I was just about to sit down with one, maybe add a few swigs of peach schnapps and turn on some mind-enriching television programming, when Husband informed me of his plans to build a fireplace, beginning at approximately 8:30 pm and that I should get my mortaring jeans on because it’s happening.

So I did, because I want to get this house done more than I want a smoothie. I mean, I can have like twenty smoothies tomorrow.

But it took like a half-hour for Husband to find his trowel and another half-hour to figure out how to get the T.V. off the wall and another half-hour to decide we were missing some essential supplies, so Husband decided that was enough progress for the night and now my coffee table looks like this:

and my living room looks like this:

and Husband left me sitting on the couch watching a History Channel special series on Hell while he got in the shower, leaving the remote out of my reach, and now I’m kinda getting scared considering that it’s 11:00 already and I’m deep into a lesson about the devil and how he could return to earth one day.

So, yeah…

that was Tuesday.

Sunday column: On living with the time we’re given.

Posted on April 7, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Every Sunday I write a column for the Fargo Forum, an eastern North Dakota newspaper out of the largest city in our state, Fargo. The column focuses on life out here in Western North Dakota and what it means to be making a life back home in the buttes and oil fields.

Those of you who follow Meanwhile, back at the ranch on Facebook and @Veederranch on Twitter have probably caught these columns as I post the online versions there each Sunday.

But I’ve been thinking it might be worth while to share the columns here with you each Sunday as they are published to give you another perspective of life out here and something to browse while you’re enjoying your morning pancakes and coffee.

And if you haven’t yet, I recommend checking out Meanwhile, back at the ranch in the big, wide, world of social media to get more photos, more observations, more chaos and more pictures of the one-eyed-pug you all love so much despite my best efforts to de-fame him.

Click the link below to read this week’s column on how to live within the time we’re given.

Coming Home: Time marches on no matter what you wish

I hope you’re enjoying your Sunday, my favorite day of the week!

Love you all and thanks for reading!

Spring Resolutions.

Posted on April 4, 2013 by Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I tell you, brown and blue have become my favorite colors.

Because it means the snow is melting and the sun is shining.

Soon that brown will be replaced by the best color in the universe. Green.

I’ve seen a little of it lately. Poking through the mud, just eager to make an appearance.

Last year at this time I’m sure I was out counting crocuses.

This year, I’m still snow bank hopping.

But I know it’s coming. Spring always comes. It’s the one constant we can rely on when everything else is crazy and unpredictable or gray or dull or blizzardy.

Spring. Spring will come and so will the baby calves and soon it will be summer.

So I’m waiting and doing what I’ve done since I was a little girl…following the new creeks and rivers that are escaping from the snow.

I follow them because I like the sound the water makes. The rushing, bubbling, quiet roar as the it rolls down hills and through gullies, across logs and over polished rocks. It reminds me of breathing and heartbeats and freedom and a world that gets another chance to clean up and show us what she’s got.

Everyone makes resolutions in the new year, in the middle of winter when the world is still in a deep sleep, frozen and unambitious.

I make my resolutions in the spring, in solidarity with the regrowth and new things blooming under the watch, guidance and encouragement of the warm sun.

I resolve to open up my heart as wide and fearless as the chokecherry blossoms, because our lives are short.

And I promise to be as dependable as the pair of geese that return to our dam year after year because love means loyalty.

I will work to be as strong as the oak, even under the harshest winds. Because that wind is steady only in its unpredictably and I don’t want to be a woman who backs down.

But I’ll listen close like a deer at the snap of a branch and I will take time to understand my home and what is meant to be here and what is a threat.

I will sing at the top of my lungs like the chickadees,