Tag Archives: Veeder Ranch

Little Man, right before our eyes…

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This is what Little Man does when he comes out to the ranch.

Little Man is my nephew, for those of you who just got on board here at Meanwhile. He’s my little big sister’s first and only son, our first and only nephew and the first and only grandkid, so, well, you know, his life’s rough.

This is what he used to look like before he grew up into a little boy who thinks he’s big enough to drive 4-wheelers.







Right before our very eyes! How did that happen?

Anyway, see that there? That’s him looking for the key to start up the machine. He knows we hid it from him.

We hid it from him because we knew if found it he would surely drive off over the hill with the puppy on his tail, flying fast, shifting gears, ramping rocks and cliffs and screaming through creeks and puddles.

He’s got an adventurous and mechanical mind.

He’s got overachieving coordination, just the kind you need to manage things like computers and iPads and lawnmowers and 4-wheelers.

He’s got an obsession.

I swear, he could sit on this thing for hours, and that says something, you know, for a two year old with an attention span of, well, a two year old.

That damn 4-wheeler, it’s one of a thousand tools Papa has to win his spot as Little Man’s favorite. It also helps that he has horses, a garden full of dirt, a really loud and funny monster impression, patience and a general willingness to allow Little Man to do whatever he wants.


Good thing Gram has fruit snacks or she wouldn’t stand a chance.

I know how she feels. I mean, Papa and Little Man are downright inseparable. When they’re together not one other thing exists in the whole entire world.

Except maybe the movie Despicable Me. Little Man loves Despicable Me, so I guess Gramma has that going for her too. It’s possible Papa could be ignored if she were to turn on Despicable Me.

But say the words “4-wheeler” or “horses” and all bets are off.

And that’s that.

So you see, if I don’t steal Little Man away from Papa when he comes out to the ranch, if I don’t bribe him with pug kisses and string cheese we wouldn’t get to bond over reading books, throwing the stick for the lab and playing “Hook” with the kitchen utensils.

Playing “Hook” means playing “Captain Hook” and that means playing swords.

Turns out my hamburger masher is a perfect sword.

So is my ladle.

I love Little Man. He’s such a cute little weirdo.

Now, if only Papa would go on vacation and his mom would let me keep him, I’d have everything I ever need 🙂

Just a short vacation Pops, you know, take that 4-wheeler and go fishing or something…

Change the channel.

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Husband and I have knack for making life complicated. We’re accident prone, the two of us, together and separately. We both like to take the long way, the back roads, with the windows rolled down even if it’s raining a little.

We like to make things from scratch, like noodles and pies and soup, even if we don’t have a recipe or a professional at hand. We like to mix our drinks strong. We like to make big plans and then take our time getting there.

We like to do things ourselves. Like, you know, finishing houses.

I think we drive our families crazy.

We must. We drive ourselves crazy. I mean, we’ve only moved six times in the last six years of marriage. We’re only on our third major home renovation/construction.

We’re only, almost, almost, almost done.

railing 2

But not quite, despite the fact that it’s all we’ve been doing for the last two months: get up, clean up the dishes from the night before, get dressed, go to work, come home, put on work clothes, find a project, tile something, varnish something, sweep something, move something, put carpet on something, saw something, paint something, look at the clock and say “damn, it’s 10 already,” and then wonder out loud what to have for supper while you pour a bowl of cereal and pull the popsicles from the freezer.

Needless to say, we’re kind of tired. And between the dreary weather, our less than adequate diet, all the mud being tracked in on the floor and the saw dust in the air, I’m not surprised to find we’re slipping a bit.

laying carpetA few weeks ago Husband called me while I was on the road to a photo shoot. He had to tell me he just got out of the bathroom to discover that he had been walking around all day with a pair of my pink underwear shoved up the sleeve of his shirt, a result of a quick attempt at finishing the laundry.

I wondered out loud if they were my pretty pink underwear or my raggedy, embarrassing pink underwear.

He said it didn’t matter, his wife’s underwear up his sleeve at work was embarrassing, pretty or not.

And now I’ve gone and put it on the internet, which I guess, is probably even more embarrassing.

But whatever. It’s funny. I laughed hysterically at the thought. So did my friend in the passenger seat of the car as I relayed the sad story of what our lives have  become.

Now, I don’t know if I’ve shared this here or not, but in the time we’ve been living back at the ranch we’ve been approached by a few different production companies about following us around for a reality show. One in particular wanted to fly Husband to Georgia to try out for a deep fat frying cooking competition. They said they like how he looks and like what he deep fat fries.

What?

I guess that’s what happens when you put your life on the internet, but a reality show on the two of us is a ridiculous idea. We’re not as pretty as the Kardashians and we don’t have enough free time to manage as many redneck adventures as the guys on Duck Dynasty. The only thing that would be entertaining about following us around with a camera would be watching all the ways I manage to screw up during the day and hearing all of the one-liners Husband manages to deliver at my expense.

Cut to last Friday where a late and very sick Jessie attempts to make it to a doctors appointment in the pouring rain only to find that her way is blocked by a semi jack-knifed and stuck across her parents’ approach and the road leading to the highway, forcing her to turn around and brave the monsoon on ten miles of muddy, deteriorating, pot-holey, all around shitty road.

Listen to her cuss as she drives a little too fast and defies the ditch and her death.

See her wave her arms at the sky and plead for the rain to stop.

Watch as she explains the situation to the receptionist at the clinic right before she gets diagnosed with bronchitis and a sinus infection and heads out to the pharmacy to load up on $150 worth of medication. Notice that she didn’t pick up her inhaler thingy, but she won’t realize it until she gets home in the monsoon.

But before she can get home Jessie needs gas. Now watch her overflow her gas tank at the local Cenex in the pouring rain while a trucker at the neighboring pump munches on a candy bar and declares it six gallons of environmental hazard.

Watch her face clench as she contemplates calling him an environmental hazard.

Cut to Jessie at home attempting to make a rhubarb cake without a cake pan for a party starting in approximately 35 minutes. Listen as she sweetly asks her husband to go borrow one from her momma.

Now watch as she puts together a dip she’s made for years with cream cheese instead of sour cream. Now look at that, she just dropped an entire container of cherry tomatoes on the floor. She’s cleaning them up now as her husband walks in, but it looks like she missed a few hanging out in the bottom of the fridge. Hope she doesn’t close the…oh, look at that, she closed the door.

See the tomatoes squish.

Watch her fling her body face first on the bed as her husband tells her she needs to pay attention.

So that would be one episode.

Seriously.

I mean, if I had a dollar for every time my dearly beloved stood above me as I am sprawled out on the floor, shaking his head and wishing out loud that I would just “pay attention”, I would be rich enough to hire someone to finish building this house for crying out loud.

That’s one way I could avoid falling into bucket of grout water.

Uff. Da. Our reality show would make you all feel better about your organized, saw dustless, home renovation-less,  mud-free, squished-tomato-free,underwear-up-your-sleeve-free life.

Some days I wish I could change the channel.

Horse frustration

The evolution of a season.

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It’s another rainy, windy afternoon at the ranch. It seems like once the sky decided to open up it just can’t stop. It feels like March when the sky wouldn’t stop snowing. It feels like this spring has been finicky and harsh and extreme and it has enjoyed every minute it has kept me waiting.

Waiting for the snow to stop.

Waiting for the sun to shine.

Waiting for the rain to come.

Waiting for it to stop raining.

Waiting on the sun to shine.

I know there will be a time this summer where the dust will blow again and we will pray for a bit of relief from the heat and the dry, but where I come from there is not a balance.

There is only extreme.

Extremely cold.

Extremely windy.

Wind

Extremely hot.

Extremely green.

Extremely wet.

Extremely dry.

Extremely perfectly beautiful.

Some days I feel like the weather. These days especially. The windows have been streaked with rain for a few weeks and I have been suffering from a weird sort of lingering head cold that refuses to break up and leave like the damn rain.

I’ve been working hard to ignore it, to say the rain will clear and I will feel better, but today I submitted. I stayed home under a blanket to watch it fall.

I’ll feel better tomorrow.

Head cold or no head cold, it seems I’m always so affected by the seasons and how they change, like the weather and my mood hold hands to greet the day accordingly.

Which makes me wonder how annoyingly bright-sided I’d be if I lived in the sunny, 70 degree climate of southern California.

It sounds nice right now, the sun.

But I think the constant change of seasons help me and what my husband refers to as my “restless spirit.” He says it’s hard for me to sit in one place. It’s hard for me to be comfortable in routine.

He says it’s good for me to have all this space to wander out here.

Maybe he’s right and maybe it’s hard to understand how a girl can be so rooted and so restless.

But it’s no worry to me really. I know where I belong out here, changing with the weather.

Evolving with the season.









Sunday Column: Wildflowers

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Happy Sunday. It’s a beautiful one here at the ranch. It’s raining, the trees are turning green right before our eyes, the flowers are blooming and I have my nose to the ground, inspecting, documenting and making sure I don’t miss a single bloom.

Wildflower season is my absolute favorite time of year, an obsession that started with a 4-H project and has continued throughout my life.

This week’s column attempts to explains that fascination a bit.

Coming Home: My love of wildflowers started young
By Jessie Veeder Scofield
Fargo Forum
Sunday, May 19, 2013

Lord, when I die, bring me back as a wildflower on the North Dakota Prairie. 

The world is full…

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This world is full of wild and thirsty things

skin and bones and muscles
feathers on black wingssoft petals on pink flowers
and stem and branch and leafwaiting on the cool rain
waiting for the greenThis world is full of a sneaking kind of goldyou can find it on horizons
can’t be bought or held or sold and only in the morning
or at the perfect time of night
welcoming a new day
setting up the lightThis world is filled with the most peculiar sounds croaks and sighs and wails
and squeaks coming from the ground and up above a whistle
and from the hills a lonesome cry and I wonder if the calling
is hellos or sad goodbyes This world is full of wonder and moments to be brave and moments to remember
why we’re here and why we came and moments to be thirsty and moments to beholdand moments just to listen to all the life outside our door

Crocuses and how it could keep getting better…

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It’s officially crocus season, and that’s good news out here on the edge of the badlands where we’ve all been patiently waiting for them to arrive, as if the blooming of the first flower gives us permission to pack away our sweaters and pull out the short sleeves.

Well, that’s what I did anyway. I made a mountain out of the sweaters shoved in my closet. I pulled them out ceremoniously flinging them to the floor, purging my room of winter before I stood back and seriously contemplated throwing them out the window and lighting a match on the whole damn pile.

But that would have been crazy, and, well, let’s be honest, I’ll need them again in a few short months. Anyway, I didn’t have time for that. Little Sister was coming over and she had plans to soak up the sunshine and I had plans to procrastinate painting the bathroom.

So we grabbed our cameras and the herd of dogs…

One…

Two…

Three…

Four.

and went climbing around, scouring the ground for the purple flower.


Turns out we didn’t have to go far.





When you become familiar with a place in all of it’s seasons, you memorize where the crocuses bloom in the spring, where to go to pick chokecherries and raspberries in the summer, and to always, no matter the season, watch out for cactus.

We know these places because prairie people like us have vivid memories of hunting for crocuses with our grandmother, sisters, mothers or fathers, bending over to pull them from the tangle of brown grass while the warm spring wind picked up the loose hair that escaped from our ponytails.

I’ve been living back at the ranch for three springs and I will be here for the rest of the springs I am given. I will never forget what it felt like to climb to that hilltop and pick the first crocus of the year as I stood with my husband we looked down at our home.

And we were happy to be together, happy for summer to arrive and happy to stand on that hill for a moment that we were sure couldn’t get much better from here.

Then my Little Sister moved to our hometown and now the whole family is together and close and on Monday mornings I can expect a call asking me what I’m doing this weekend. Because my Little Sister plans ahead and I’m glad to be consulted on those plans.

So Saturday’s plans made room for crocus hunting in the warm sunshine next to a girl who used to follow me on my after school walks up the creek to my fort. I used to wish she would leave me alone then. I used to holler at her to stop following me and when we came in the house crying and fighting, our mom would promise us that someday, we would be best friends.

Funny how moms are usually, most likely, pretty much, always exactly right.

Funny how some things change, but I still haven’t mastered the art of convincing Little Sister to help me with my chores…like, oh, you know, painting the bathroom.

Funny how she still doesn’t listen to me.

Funny how the crocuses bloom on the same hill every year and someday we might have a chance to watch our own children run to the top and pick us a purple bloom.

Funny how it could possibly keep getting better.

A walk.

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In honor of spring and the wind and the sun and the green grass poking up around us, I would like to take you along on my favorite trail, the one that leads to the east pasture from our house, up along the buffalo fence, to the top of a rocky cliff and then down again to the stock dam and back toward home.

Next week this walk will be a little bit greener, a little bit warmer and, hopefully, I’ll find some crocuses.

Next week maybe I’ll leave the damn dogs at home so they don’t scare away the wildlife with their slobbering, panting, running, and puking.

I guess that’s what happens when you run at full speed after a duck, ignoring the screams from your owner to come back.

That’s what you get when you try out your instincts after seven months of lounging.

It’s been a long winter.

I would have puked too.

Anyway, I hope the sun is shining wherever you are and you have the chance to explore your favorite spot this weekend.

Now, off we go…

Sorry weird cat, you gotta stay home…

























Take a breath. Take a walk. Take a break. Take some time.

Happy, happy weekend.

Our geese.

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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.

Summer is coming.

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!

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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.

ColleenPhoto 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.comPhoto 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.”

Baby with Cherry BlossomsPhoto 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.”

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

Lois from TexasPhoto 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.”

Jess PhotoPhoto 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!”

CalliPhoto 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” 

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

spring 2013 028Photo of Blue the Dog by Jody in Breckenridge, MN
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS SPRING!”

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

BettyPhoto 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.”

RosesPhoto 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!

Close up!

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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.