Then it turned out to be the loooooooooooooongest day in the history of my dude ranching career.
Ok, so who cares if said career has only been a month and 12 days. Who's counting?
Slim and Linde were both gone this week, which is part of the reason it has been such a long week. Having both gone left us short-hand, not to mention that I was missing my two most senior wranglers (i.e., the two who really run the show and let me think I'm doing it).
This left me to feed on Tuesday morning. Let me just tell you that feeding on Tuesday mornings is a punishment.
You see, this is how Tuesday goes down.
The cooks get up, drive down to Breakfast Rock, and make breakfast, where we meet them on horseback to eat breakfast. But to keep breakfast on close to the same schedule, we have to be on horseback by 8, rather than by 10.
To have people on horses by 8, we have to be saddling by 7.
To be saddling by 7, horses have to eat by 5.
For horses to eat by 5, you have to start feeding at 4:30.
Yes, I am still talking about the morning.
4:30 in the morning.
Now, you see The Irishman arrived on Sunday night, just as we were about to introduce ourselves to the new guests.
And he needed to be initiated......
As you may have guessed, I was more than happy to welcome The Irishman to the ranch with a 4:30 wake-up call.
The strange thing is, he was sleeping in his clothes!
I'm kind of wondering if his buddy, Dizzy warned him.
But I don't think so, since he insisted on CHANGING clothes.
He mumbled something about jetlag, going to bed at 7 pm, falling asleep with clothes on, I don't know....
So I made him help me feed.
And he got to see a beautiful sunrise.
The only problem with all of it....
He stalled my tractor and we couldn't get it restarted in the dark, so we had to feed by hand.
I swear, karma will get you EVERY time!
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