Growing up on “The Farm” - Memories of Travis State School



Cathy Belliveau, Program Director
Down Home Ranch

I often wonder how we got there, and how it was that we all came to be created by that place, changed forever by our years there. 

It was as if I were meant to be there.  Even in my earliest years  I loved tagging along with Dad to the “Farm,” as a girl full of curiosity would, wanting to understand what goes on from 8-5 in the parent world.

Camp Days

It was Narnia and Disneyland all in one place, with a bit of 1984 thrown in on occasion.   It could be a nightmare but in the best years it was mostly a haunting wonderland…something fragile and dark, full of beauty and tinged with sadness, all wrapped up in a sensory overload jumble.  I see it now as captured in a giant snow globe.  Surreal and locked the memories stir when I shake them in my mind.  

It is so hard for anyone to understand who had never been there.  

To understand, you had to breathe it in…let the place seep into you to experience the sense of awe it still holds for me.  It brings me to tears even after all these years: That Farm on the hill, holy depository for the broken and the lost, the loved and the rejected, the home.  It was the playground of my teen years…my rite of passage to adulthood.  It is a big part of who I am, and a big part of me was left behind, inside those gates.

I was thirteen when I first came to the Farm.  It took a while to take everything in and allow it to enchant me, as it had so many others who dedicated their lives to the care of the people on the Farm.  I went there every chance I had.  I spent my summers there teaching and being taught.  It was the best growing up place anyone could ask for.

After all these years it is still the Farm I think of when I recall the proudest moments in my work.  I still see the faces and hear the voices….calling me back over all those years to the past.

 Their faces come back to me—bringing smiles and tears.  I see the hands of the children and those of the elderly, all needing, yet all giving.  

The Farm started as a true farm community in 1933 for those society felt needed a separate home away from the rest of us.  At first it was just for men with mental disabilities, but it expanded in my years there to open the doors to women and some children.

Cathy volunteering at Special Olympics

The older men would tell me stories of growing vegetables and working in the fields below the main campus.  That was before my time. 

How proud they were of their work and how they missed the productive years, before the rules changed and the powers that were took the farm work out of the farm and left in its place the institution.

These old gentlemen should have been someone’s grandpa….so they became mine, and I will never forget them.  And in my mind’s eye I see my red headed  six year old, with his brown vacant eyes and one hand stretched out as if searching for something.  He whirled around in his dance for one….laughing at the wind….oblivious to my presence.  How I longed to reach him and unlock the child and set him free…but in a way he was already free…free from the world that could be so cruel to someone so different.



Santa paid a visit

I remember Christmas on the Farm, with parades and bands and hundreds of smiling faces wrapped up in holiday joy.  In the summertime there were watermelon days, paddle boat races and swimming in the pool. 

We loved Halloween so much we dedicated a an entire month to prepare for it.  Staff worked tirelessly to create costumes, a haunted house, and a carnival with candy apples and games of chance. There was not a single holiday we didn’t celebrate and go all out for.

In some ways it was all such a perfect safe haven. 

But not always.  Like any loving but sometimes dysfunctional family there were hard days and times it was difficult to smile, but they were few enough in my day.  The hugs and the loving words made up for the black moments when someone forgot our purpose.  We were family to each other and to the people who lived there.

The lessons we learned about unconditional love and acceptance were gifts we all received.  Those gifts are cherished to this day, and will be remembered as long as I have any memory at all.



The pond at Travis State School

It is difficult—no, really it’s impossible—to convey the depth of love many of us had for the people and for the place.

The Farm was closed forever in 1995, shut down by people who didn’t understand what it had been able to become over the years: a sanctuary.

Shut down by people with fancy theories but precious little real experience in living and loving people with a label.

Shut down, but never forgotten.  But not by me, and not by the hundreds of other people who lived and worked there.

The Farm will always be the haunting, mystical place on the hill that changed us all.

C. Belliveau

Just hangin' with the guys

Calvin Keeney, RA of Gabriel House

Of the six Resident Assistants, Calvin Keeney, RA of Gabriel House, has been with Down Home Ranch the longest, having begun working as a Weekend RA in October of '08.

I'd always thought that Calvin had heard about the Ranch from his buddies at Mary Hardin Baylor who worked weekends, but I was wrong.

"Nope," he said.  "I'd gone to the campus career site a few times in the past year looking for a part-time job but I never found anything that interested me and probably hadn't looked on it in a year.  Then I had this really awful computer class that I just hated, and one of our assignments was to find something interesting on the campus career site.  So I went on and there was this thing about the Ranch, so I went on the web site and checked it out.

"Funny how I got the best job out of the worst class!"



Chris, Mark, Mike, Nick, Matt and Calvin of Gabriel House



Calvin was born and raised in the Temple area with brothers Michael John and Drew (Calvin's the middle) and parents Charlotte and Mike.  He played tennis and basketball at Lorena High, where he graduated in 2005.  I knew he was an art major in college and asked him if he'd done much art in high school.

"Not really," he said.  "I was too busy with sports, but when I got to college there was time to really get into it.  I didn't have a lot of background, but I started out with painting and really liked it, and by the time I graduated I was into ceramics in a big way."

I complimented Calvin on the cleanliness and neatness of the home and he said, "Oh, it's totally the guys who keep it this way."

Sweet words to my ear!  I know this modesty for what it doesn't say: that Calvin must be a natural organizer and delegator with high standards for his home.  I asked him what he liked best about being an RA and he was quick to say, "The companionship of the guys!  They're great, and funny, and we're just like a bunch of freshmen that got free of the family home, making our way in the world."

The greatest challenge?  Diet and exercise for the guys.  Well, join the crowd, I say.

Calvin agreed that the recent Ranch cruise was the best ever.  Staff and Ranchers alike seemed to have a great time.  He said, "It's so great seeing the Ranchers living the dream."

One day on the cruise I was sitting in a corner of the library reading, having noticed Calvin in a bridge game in another area.  When the foursome broke for a few minutes, one of the players came over to me.  I figured Calvin had been talking about the Ranch, but I had a surprise coming.  The lady was an early supporter of Down Home Ranch, back in the days when we had nothing but a greenhouse, a barn, and a little mobile home.  She was delighted to see the results of her investment.

Calvin is well into his second year as a full-time RA, and it's a great fit with Gabriel House.  He noted that one of the best things to happen recently was Nick moving to Gabriel from Joseph House.

"Nick and Chris," he said, "boy, those are a pair!  Chris hasn't had a real close friend in the house but he and Nick hit it off right away.  They have all these in-jokes and things they ask each other that set them and everybody else laughing.  Most of the time I don't understand them and when I do, well, sometimes they're not the most polite things to say but I have to laugh anyway."

Calvin enjoys the other staff, and he, Tom, Lori, and Zach joined the gym at the YMCA in Taylor and go there to work out two or three times a week.  Besides bridge Calvin enjoys other games of strategy and looks forward to going to a national gaming conference with his parents and brothers in Indianapolis this summer.

In the future Calvin would like to use his art degree to help the Ranch get its ceramics business off the ground.  We closed with a date to go over to the Spur and inspect the molds and kilns donated to the Ranch.

The eggs and us and other stuff besides

Clyde, Travis, Sterling and Travis rejoice over a new little peeper

Mr. Pat and the Garden Team, who care for the chickens, saved up a couple dozen fertilized eggs and Mr. Pat brought his incubator in to his office in the Garden Center.

"February 14th Due Date" said the sticky on top, and sure enough, tiny beaks began tapping away on Valentine's Day.

So far we have about 20 hatched and several more to go.  It takes about a day for the little peepers to get out of the shell, a lot of work for your first day on the job!  They'll stay in Mr. Pat's office under the heat lamp for several more days and then move to the Hen Hilton Extension where they'll grow strong and replace the chickens we've lost to various causes--racoons, owls, hawks, and the like--since our original 44 took up residence.

The chickens were our first foray into self-sufficiency and the only one to make it so far, although hay is almost there and we're using up our excellent pork from our three lady pigs we raised up last year.  (Actually we did grow all our own hay for about and year and a half but once the drought really took hold the grass just said, "Unh-uh!" and retreated far down into the soil.)

So eggs we have, and they are wonderful.  They should be even better with the fall and winter rains we've been blessed with, because the hens will find more tasty bugs and seeds than they've been able to do the past summer and before.

And that's not the only babies on the Ranch!  We have one new little bully calf and two heifers on the ground.  We'd hoped for four in all for this year's calf crop, but it's looking like Mama #4 mis-fired.  She did fine last year so we'll breed them back in a few weeks and see what happens.  This makes four breeders, last year's calf crop of two bullies and two heifers, this year's three, and a few more we acquired. 

Soon it will be time for pigs again, and we'll be planting orchards in the next few weeks along with our spring garden.  March will probably bring some ridiculously cold weather but we hope for nothing like last year, when it was 11 degrees for most of a whole day!

We're ready!

Just bein' neighborly

We got together for some staff training this morning and Zach, RA of Barnabas House, asked Ashley, RA of next door neighbor Martha House, how she and the girls liked the pancake he and the guys had baked for them this morning.

Fortunately there was a photo of this masterpiece, which I expect will assume the status of legend.

Who knows what might be baked next...

Epiphany

Alaina leads the candle procession

Tomorrow is Epiphany, or Three Kings Day to some. 

I spent Thursday afternoon making hot chocolate, getting the robes, candles, and other props ready for our celebration.

The Ranchers were to meet at 7:00 in front of the Pavilion.  Luckily, it was a mild night for the beginning of winter.


Valerie was Melchior


When all were gathered we drew names to see who would play the Three Kings bringing gifts to the Christ child, and fate decreed that we would have two queens and a king.  Crystal would play the Virgin Mary, and Clyde Joseph.

There was general hilarity and ribbing as we donned our costumes, but when we lit the candles for the procession, all fell quiet.  I read the passage from Matthew about the Three Kings, and off we went.

We entered the darkened Pavilion with only our candles for light.  The Three Royal people led the way, bearing their gifts.  Pilgrims followed bearing light.  Along the way we sang "We Three Kings of Orient Are."

Rebekah was Kaspar & Travis was Balthazar

Once we'd reached the creche, the Three Royal People presented their gifts, and the rest of us placed our candles before the babe.  We sang "Away in a Manger."

After a rousing chorus of "This Little Light of Mine" it was time to serve the hot chocolate and rosca de reyes, the traditional Mexican pastry baked in a ring and containing an image of the baby Jesus.  According to lore, the person finding the baby Jesus in his piece must give a party some days hence.  (We'd already decided that the house the winner lived in would host the Superbowl...talk about moving out of the sacred and into the secular!)

 

Clyde and Crystal as Joseph and Mary

I had put a pretty big baby Jesus in the pastry to make certain there was no chance of his disappearing down someone's gullet!

Kyle discovered the baby Jesus in his rosca, so Isaiah House will host the Superbowl!

The Three Royals put away their costumes and dug in.

Photos by Ashley Ashmore

We were jolly by golly



Jason, Kara, Gigi, Mike and Valerie made it happen!

 Last night we had our annual Christmas dinner and secret Santa party.  Gig and the foodies outdid themselves, as usual, and Southside Market kicked in and smoked three yummy turkeys for us.

And a first!  The Christmas ham came from Eenie, Meenie, or Miney--our three lady pigs who were raised on the finest slops ever presented to Swinekind right here on the Ranch.



There was no contest for cutest person at the party
but Gracie Hall would have won it for sure!

 Several Ranchers' families attended, and pretty much all the staff.  The food was great, the company equally so, and God blessed us every one.

The Gabriel House guys, plus Ashley (who just had to get in on the act)
Matt, Mike, Mark, "AA", and Chris

Come Ye Thankful People, Come

Annette, Scott, Natalie, Rebekah, Kelly, Sterling, Anita & Elizabeth at Thanksgiving Dinner

And they did!

Those that didn't missed an awesome feast last Thursday, as we held our annual Thanksgiving community dinner at the Ranch and made it the first of what I hope is an annual appreciation dinner for our staff.


Mike & Kara fill relish cups as Gig looks on

 Miss Gigi in the kitchen was helped throughout the day by various members of her family, not to mention the Foodies group.  By the time dinner was ready to be served, the party had already begun in the kitchen!



Jason, Robin, Ashley, Gig, CJ, and Jeff show how much fun you can have in a hairnet!

After dinner we presented thank you letters to staff members in attendance.  Ranchers roared in appreciation.  Where else can you feel like you just won Homecoming King or Queen!?

CJ just passed her two-year anniversary working at the Ranch

Thanks to all who made it happen--Miss Gigi, the Foodies (Kara, Jason, Valerie, and Mike) ably assisted by Jeff and Kelly (Gigi's son and daughter), Robin, Ashley from Michigan, and CJ.  We all enjoyed the dinner a lot, the fellowship even more, and did it all over the next day for lunch!

Our warmest wishes for a Thanksgiving filled with love for each and every one of our readers, too.

Last night

The Village at Twilight

This week was a hard week.

Our cook quit abruptly a few weeks ago, and we figured out that our Pavilion kitchen had been suffering from...shall we say, a lack of stewardship...for some time, so I'm handling all the food ordering, shopping, menu creating, and consequent flack-catching for the Ranch for the next several weeks. 

Marci has mostly been wrangling the kitchen crew, and I've been trying to use up inventory (what, cod again!?) prior to getting things under a little more coherent management.

The work is hard--not just for a 70-year old, but for anybody--and the days are long!  Most nights I go to bed with a sore back and wake up long before dawn.  We're talking 13-hour days here.

Yesterday was particularly tough, since we had to get ready for a retreat group coming in, and the Ranchers were going to go to Special Olympics swimming competitions today, so I stayed late making sandwiches and getting the lunch ready for the Saturday outing.

Then I mopped the floor six times in a row until I could finally get semi-clear rinse water.  The San Jose people showed up, and Jerry and I raced around getting the lights on and such.

People often say to me, "Oh my gosh, you must have such a sense of pride and fulfillment whenever you look around this place."

The truth is just the opposite.

Wherever I look I see things that need fixing, watering, painting, finishing, cleaning...

It reminds me of funeral services I've attended for children with special needs, and I've attended more than a few.

The moms stand brokenhearted before the assembly and confess that they never, ever, not for one day, felt they ever did enough for their child with disabilities.

However much they did, and they performed heroic feats, year after year, after year...still, they were always exhorting themselves to do more.  Surely one more half hour of speech therapy per week, one more enrichment class, one more hour of homework supervision and help would make all the difference in their child's life.

But after all was said and done, the kid still had Down syndrome, and given basically decent parenting, one turned out much like another.

Which is a good thing.

Because recent studies indicate that families with children with Down syndrome are among the happiest familiest around--even laying the disability issue aside.  That's because our kids are generally fun-loving and emotionally generous (to put it mildly).

And what do they NOT do?  Well, when they consider the world, they tend not to fixate on what needs fixing, cleaning, watering, or finishing.  They take the world on its own terms and, when in doubt, have a party!

None of which has anything to do with what happened last night, which was that Jerry and I, tearing around fixing this and adjusting that, stopped for a breathtaking moment and looked around the Ranch and really saw it the way it deserves to be seen.

The sun was well below the horizon.  The sky was a dusk rose in the west, and the barn caught the last rays of light.

The lanterns had come on, and the yellow light shone from the houses in the Village.

The Pavilion shone forth, and inside we could see the young Hispanic adults on retreat assembled in fellowship.

And I had a deep, welcome sense for just a few minutes that all the striving, all the worry, all the endless toil over the past 20 years has been worth it after all.

It was a blessed moment, and I know it will soon pass, but it lingers with me today.

And I am grateful beyond measure.

Good morning, Moon

It's once of those staff-crunch times at Down Home Ranch.  We're all doing double and sometimes triple duty as we deal with unexpected staff departures and unfilled new positions.

Like the Food and Wellness Coordinator.

Changing our "food culture" at Down Home Ranch has been a challenge, to say the least.  We once again have begun grappling with the need to exercise stricter control over the food provided the Ranchers.

So as to get started in this venture, I agreed to serve as interim FWC until we can find that perfect person.

Well, at least I knew what I was getting into.  Suffice it to say that rising long before dawn is part and parcel of the package.  So many things to think of, so many items needing attention, so much to learn and relearn.

So here I was in my office about 6:00 AM when Mr. Lobo appeared at the door.

"Did you see the moon?" he asked.

Of course I'd seen the moon...but then, had I really?   I'd walked out the door, thankful for its light so I could find my car at 5:30 AM, and glanced up at it.

But I didn't really see it.

I went outside with Mr. Lobo and together we beheld its shocking presence in the western sky.  We marveled at it  and Mr. Lobo told stories of how he'd gotten his kids up one night to watch all the planets align in the sky one night in the 80s.

I told of the awesome array of stars I'd seen during the leonid meteor showers in the mountains of Colorado back in the 60s.

Two old friends, standing in the dust at dawn, beholding the heavens.

Thanks be to God.

Image courtesy NASA via Wikipedia

Home at last

Neighbors at last, Sterling & Jerry walk over to Isaiah House

It's finally happening.  The guys are spending their first night in Isaiah House!

Right now it looks a bit like a scene out of a reality show about hoarders.  Joseph House is cleaned out of stuff, but Isaiah has a ways to go to make the house a home. 

Travis' dad Tony works on the TV

Sterling's room is pretty well done, and Travis' mom and dad came up yesterday to install him in his, but John and Kyle's, well...let's just say they'll need some help establishing priorities.

But Sterling is so glad to have his house buddies, he came over and grabbed us after dinner to come and see.

These guys have been so patient, for so long, and they are very happy to be in the Village.

Meanwhile, at Joseph House, four guys new to the Ranch will be settling in, and yet another dream will come true at Down Home Ranch.

No problem, really!

Here we are in San Antonio at the National Down Syndrome Congress Annual Convention being held at the J.W. Marriott Hill Country Resort. 

Jerry and I came down Wednesday, the staff arrived Thursday, we all went to pre-conference sessions yesterday, and Gena and Travis brought the Ranchers down yesterday afternoon in the bus.

What a change from last year, when we met at Disney World and were dropped off in the pitch dark in a veritable maze of unconnected buildings, amongst which were scattered our rooms.  In retrospect, we feel like we spent most of the conference waiting for a bus, sitting on a bus, or walking two miles from the bus to where we needed to go.

Here...wow!  All connected, all gorgeous, all accommodating, with a water park on site.  There's no crowding, smashed together feeling (except for last night at the Just Dance function, and that's how it was supposed to be).

And whenever I thank someone the heavens open, rays of sunshine beam down, and I hear these beautiful words, "It's my pleasure!"

Jerry and I noticed it right away, the glorious absence of the obnoxious phrase that has replaced "You're welcome," namely--NO PROBLEM, DUDE!"

OK, so you don't really hear the "dude" part, but you hear it in your head, or at least I do.  Jars me every time.  I thank you for something you did for me, even if it was your job, and you dismiss it with "no problem."  Like I thought it was a problem to begin with, which I didn't.

Guess I've turned into an old grammar crank but looks like Mr. J. W. Marriott is one, too, because I have not heard one "no problem" from any of the staff since I got here.

Jerry got to play the Oaks course, from which he returned happy if a bit crispy from the 105 high on Thursday. 

Casey, Lori, Calvin and I attended Dr. Chicoine and Dr. McGuire's workshop on health and aging in adults with Down syndrome yesterday.  We came away inspired, with a thousand ideas for new ways to help our Ranchers be successful in their lives while reducing situations that cause them needless stress and anxiety.  Most all the news from this workshop was good, except for one, namely that it really does seem that people with Down syndrome age more quickly than the normal population, that aging accellerates once they hit their 30s.

Later, as Casey and I waited out in front of the hotel for the bus to arrive with our gang we got to talking about the Ranchers, and how we miss them when we're away from them.  I ventured that I couldn't really imagine Casey functioning as a case manager with any other group of people.  She laughed and said that when she'd gone to "case manager" school all the case managers there wanted to be teachers and couldn't understand why she, a teacher, wanted to become a case manager.

"Of course the truth is, I only wanted to be a case manager for Down Home Ranch in the first place," she said.

I had asked Dr. McGuire, on behalf of us older parents who worry about the effect of our death on our kids with Down syndrome, if he thought intentionally making a video of all our family now while we're still functional and happy was a good idea, something that could be of comfort when we were gone.  Casey and I were talking about that, too, as we waited for the bus.

"The truth is," she said, "My hope is to hang in with this bunch as we all age together and then we'll all go together.  That's what I want."

Well, as my grandmother used to say, "Man proposes and God disposes."  Our little community will play out in ways we can't imagine. 

Meanwhile, we'll just dance.

Improv at the Ranch, wanted or not

Sterling tries to make Kyle laugh

I told Marci, who has bravely agreed to take on the 17th summer of Ranch Camp this year, that I wanted to start spending chorus time on coming up with games, songs and activities that we could try out to use during camp on the Ranchers--you know, see what works and doesn't work.

Well, I yesterday I had a particularly creative bunch of Ranchers to work with on this project, none of them willing to "color between the lines," so to speak.

Our first little game was "Poor Kitty."

Couldn't be simpler! Participants sit in a circle, and "Kitty" crawls from person to person looking pitiful. Kitty can meow, purr, hiss, and pretend to bare her claws at you or try any anything else she thinks might make you laugh.

Your job is to sit stone faced through it all and not laugh. If Kitty makes you laugh, you lose and you then become Poor Kitty.

Well, this was a short-lived game because the members of my gang can't sit straight faced through anything. The minute I (as Kitty) approached Sterling he broke into a huge grin and started laughing, almost falling off his chair.

"No, Sterling, you try not to laugh," I said, breaking out of my role for the moment. "You can't even smile or you lose."

Sterling tried to make a straight face but failed utterly so he now became Poor Kitty.

On all fours he approached Kelly, who looked away trying hard not to smile. Kitty meowed at Kelly, but she held fast for a second or so. Kitty got right in her face and hissed menacingly.

"Oh," she cooed, "what a cute little kitty you are." She then planted a big kiss on his face and started to laugh.

Enough of Poor Kitty! I moved on to "Doggie, doggie, find your bone!"

"Doggie" has to stand in front of everyone else while his bone is given to one of the participants. Then everybody calls out "Doggie, doggie, find your bone!"

Doggie then turns around and approaches the one he believes has his bone and barks. If Doggie is right, that person must give him the bone and now becomes the new doggie. If he is wrong everybody chants "Doggie, doggie, find your bone!" and he continues until he finds it.

Kyle retrieves his bone from Alaina

Kyle proved especially creative on this one. Doggie not only barked, he scratched fleas vigorously, shook hands, and relieved himself on imaginary fireplugs. When admonished not to do so he approached his girlfriend Alaina, licked her face vigorously and then barked.

Kyle retrieved his bone from Alaina

"Okay, okay, guys," I said. "Let's try something else!"

"No, I want to be the Doggie!" said Alaina. So the bone was hidden again and everybody chanted, "Doggie, doggie, find your bone!"

Alaina turned around, got down on all fours, and immediately succombed to hysterics. This set everyone else off and they all collapsed on the floor, howling with laughter, and reprising Kyle's clever ploy with the fire plug.

Method acting at the Ranch

Maybe next week. I'll be careful to make my selections a bit more thoughtfully.

New guys on the Ranch

Clyde, back row second from right, and Tom, front row right

I stopped by the Pavilion to check on "the new guys," who aren't new yet but are doing their trial week.

Trial week is a chance for prospective residents and the Ranch to find out if we're a match for each other.  Most have come to camp, and not a few have declined to move in once they learned that residency involves more time on work teams and not so much toasting s'mores over the campfire.

So Tommy, Jason, Clyde, and Nick are staying in Hickory Lodge, not exactly the same as a residence home (more like a bunkhouse), but close enough.

All four looked pleased as punch when I saw them, and our gang seemed happy, too. We've put them on work teams, and Jason was really going at the dining room floor with an industrial mop and bucket.  "Hi, Judy," he said.  "I'm working hard!"

I get the feeling Jason really wants to live here!

Later, in the barn, I overheard Rebekah, an old  hand, saying to Jason, "You want me show you how do this?"

Jason surveys the barn with satisfaction

"Sure!" Clyde said, and he couldn't have a better instructor.  But right then Lori drew every one aside to give a basic safety orientation on working around horses, all to the twangy background music of KVET's morning show.

Exciting times for Down Home Ranch, and perhaps a much longed-for beginning to a dream come true for four delightful men and their families, if, as I said, it turns out to be a match.

We'll continue to check each other out over the next week, and they'll get a much better picture of life at the Ranch.  I try to imagine what they're feeling now.  They seem happy and confident, but we are a swirl of unfamiliar faces, rules, and traditions.  I would be feeling a bit alone and tentative about the whole prospect at this point, I am sure.

Meanwhile, this weekend they're gearing up to go to the Farmers' Market in Elgin tomorrow morning, and then in the evening to Elgin's own Franco-American Vocal  Academy's production of Offenbach's School for Husbands.  (Who says we don't have culture out here in the boonies!?)

Sunday they'll head for home and think about their time here with the gang.  Maybe they'll decide not yet, or maybe not at all.

But somehow, if I were a betting woman...

Cattle Round-Up

Three cowboys

We've said for years that we simply want Down Home Ranch to be a working farm and ranch, with the Ranchers helping us run our various and sundry operations.

Monday April 25 was a special day for us in our progress towards that goal, and some of our cowboys were ready to start a new chapter in the history of the Ranch.


Among our 340 acres of  "Post Oak Savannah" is Yegua Creek (Spanish for "Mare"), which forms our northern boundary, and a 40 acre riparian patch, home to over 100 big native pecan trees.

In the 1800s, Yegua Creek was on the eastern edge of the "Comancheria", a vast territory that the Comanche tribe dominated, having incorporated the Spanish horse into the endless pursuit of their chief source of clothing, shelter and food—the buffalo.

Yegua Creek was a source of water and food: pecans, deer, squirrel and other game, hickory nuts, wild dewberries, mustang grapes, creek plum and cactus pears--all still present. Greenbriar—a thorny vine that grabs you as you try to walk in the woods—was a source of early spring leaves, tiny and slightly bitter, but a nice source of greens for the native Americans. Buffalo roamed across Texas from the 1500s to around 1850 when the herds began to diminish, to be replaced by cattle.

A year ago we bought four bred, registered Black Angus heifers from Bubba and Donna Kay--the Kay Ranch--to start our cattle operation. We made this decision in part because of the impressive work of Dr. Stephen Smith of Texas A&M, who focuses on Japanese cattle, Wagyu in particular. Our four heifers are registered Black Angus but were bred to Big Boy, a purebred Wagyu bull.

Our first calf was nicknamed “The Dude.” Born prematurely, he was unable to stand and unable to nurse. One of our Ranchers, Sterling, hunkered down on a cold winter night with Jerry, holding Dude's head up and trying to massage the milk down his throat. This went on for days, then weeks, but, with a lot of love and constant care, we got him standing and walking. We knew we had to get him back to the herd, so we took him over to the Spur, put him in a stall and —his mom having dried-up—he immediately starting nursing, using the other three cows. Today, he's a full-fledged member of the herd. The runt, for sure, but a survivor.

Sterling & Kyle wait to run
a cow through the chute

So, it was a real treat having Sterling, Kyle and Travis helping Ranch Foreman Pat bringing our four cows and four calves into the holding pen as Bubba and Donna came in with Big Boy, who will again sire our four calves. It was Round-Up spring 2011. Big Boy will spend 40 days on the ranch, servicing our cows through two cycles, after which he’ll leave and our calves will wean.

Time for vaccinations

We had a hay trailer on hand so that guests (Board President Genie brought friends from the San Francisco Bay Area) and Ranchers could have a close-up view of the process: tagging, worming and vetting the bull, cows and calves.



Return to freedom

 Unbeknown to most, the Dude and his brother bull-calf were made steers in the process. The two heifers will be bred to a Wagyu bull in their time, and their calves will be three-quarter Wagyu.

Bubba, Donna & Jerry on Roundup Day 

When we first visited Bubba and Donna they sent us home with a dozen Wagyu burger patties, which Judy and I are still smacking our lips over. We're looking forward to the day we get to dine on prime DHR Wagyu beef (and maybe a glass of homemade Mustang Grape wine.)

[This blog was written by Jerry but posted on Judy's blog.]

Sock Hop!

Melanie paints a drag strip

Okay, I about threw my back out showing the Ranchers how to do the Bunny Hop. 

But I was the only person present who actually went to high school in the 50s and knew how to do it!

It's time for a grand celebration of the first anniversary of the Down Home Ranch fun and fitness program HE-HAW! which stands for High Energy Health and Wellness.

Jerry thought that up.

HE-HAW started exactly a year ago.  Casey, Marci and the rest of the Day Program staff get all the credit for following through, with reward charts, endless fun things to do that involve getting off the couch, and celebration parties and overnights with prizes.

In June we started workplace Weight Watchers, and will finish our last on-site meeting this Thursday.  We will miss our friends Ann and Rebecca, but promise to keep on counting our points and weighing-in (however grim that prospect sometimes becomes).

We have a leaner menu and a fitter bunch, and it shows.

So back to the Sock Hop, coming up Tuesday March 1.  (Remember how we had to take our shoes off to dance because of the wooden gym floor?)

Naturally, there have to be posters all over the "gym," and poodle skirts to make.

Kyle is proud of his poster



Kara stitches up a poodle skirt with Lori's help



 



Kyle & Sterling show how "cool cats" acted in the 50s



First a chest bump



And then smoothin' down the ducktail!

5 Piggies, 3 Cowboys, and 1 Executive Director

Five little pigs looking for food or adventure



Most new moms will tell you about a strange phenomenon, which is that when the baby finally goes to sleep long enough for you to grab a bite to eat, he or she will stay asleep right up until the time you are ready to take that first bite.

And then comes the wail from the nursery.

Happens every time!  How do they know?

Well, we have no babies in Benedict House, but we have five young pigs happily eating their way through adolescence over at the Spur barn, and they cleverly time their escapes to coincide with the very moment I have set food on the table for supper. And so it happened a few nights ago.

We sat down, unfolded our napkins, and the phone rang.

Cowboys live at Joseph House

It was John, the RA at Joseph House over at the Spur.

"Tell Jerry the pigs are out," he said tersely.

I sighed and turned to Jerry.  "The pigs are out," I said tersely. 

Jerry disappeared.  Supper went back on the warmer.

Forty-five minutes later Jerry came back, looking half peeved, half exhilirated.

"Well, I had three hard-working ranch hands to help me round 'em up," he said, meaning Sterling, Travis, and Kyle, the three cowboys who live at Joseph House.

3 Cowboys: Sterling, Travis, & Kyle

I imagined Jerry, Sterling, Travis and Kyle tearing about inside and outside of the Spur barn, with five pigs serving as highly uncontrolled variables in the process.  In fact, though, only three pigs had gotten out and were now wandering about in the paddocks amid donkeys, cattle, calves--with four humans in pursuit, none having much luck.

"It was hard for the guys to understand what I wanted to get them to do," said Jerry, "plus it was dark, and we could hear the little buggers but we couldn't see them, so I wasn't sure what I even wanted the guys to do."

But, as Jerry knew, the pigs wanted to be back in their safe pen almost as much as he wanted them to, so after a while the guys got them from outside the barn to inside--and quickly secured all the doors.

"But," said Jerry, "our large hay wagon, full of square bales, was taking up the middle of the barn, right next to the pig pen door and the one-bulb light meant we couldn't really see whether the pigs were secured or not." 

During the recount two of the escapees bolted into the pen, leaving but one at large.

Joseph House Cowboys model their pig-catching technique

"I put Travis in one corner of the barn, Sterling to his right about 20'. Kyle I had guarding the gate, arms akimbo to block a bolting piggie. I went around looking under the wagon and around a bunch of those old desks stored in the barn," continued Jerry.

No pig to be seen.

"Then I went outside and turned on the barn's outside lights, thinking he'd gotten outside somehow. But, no pig. I went back inside the barn and was about to declare and end to the hunt when I took another look inside the pig pen and, viola! all five pigs!

"I don't know, I guess the last little last stinker slipped in while we were out running around trying to find him."

Needless to say, the Great Pig Chase has now entered Ranch lore, with Jerry having nothing but good to say about the cowboys who let their supper get cold to do their job and help the boss.

And the four of them did it! 
None of them really knows how they did it, but they're all proud anyway.

Soon the pigs will have a new home especially designed for them, close to the chickens, near the new Community Garden.

Well confined, I hope.

Death 2, Life 3 The rest of the story

Michael and Zsa Zsa, RIP

Well, Sunday wasn't over after our sad experience with the hawk and our beautiful hen.  Jerry confessed that something (probably the same hawk) had also killed sweet Zsa Zsa, our sweetest and tamest hen, and said he hadn't wanted to tell me at the time. 

I think the hawk must have struck and wounded her and she sought refuge in the nesting box and died there.  We'll never know, though.  Not a speck of blood or any obvious wound.

However, we went home after getting everybody tucked inside the Chicken Hilton and Jerry made ready for his grand experiment: chocolate covered pecans.  He's talked about them for years, and we bought some on our recent trip to Fredericksburg and they disappeared suspiciously fast (not that I had anything to do with it). 

Jerry making chocolate covered pecans

Anyway, the afternoon was given over to cracking and shelling and melting and dipping.  In the midst of it all, the phone rang.  It was Anita.

"Well, guess what?" she said, "We have a little kitty."

"One?" I replied.

Yes.  It turned out that Skitty Kitty (as I call her), whom I had divined  might be in the family way, had delivered herself of a baby at 1:00 AM that morning, under the bed of a brand new weekend resident assistant staying over at the Ranch for the first time by the name of Diana.

"I heard noises under the bed, and then I heard this tiny baby kitty sound, and looked under the bed and the mama kitty was cleaning it off and it was just crying and crying," said Diana.


Skitty with her baby

Skitty appeared several months ago, emaciated and scared, and although we've all been feeding her, she was not allowed into a house because we don't have cats in the houses.  For months she wouldn't let anyone near her, and lived in the culverts of the Village.  She made the rounds of the houses at mealtimes and we all fed her.  I was amazed she'd eluded the coyotes for so long, but she was agile and wary, and those traits served her well.

When the temperature fell to the teens however, Anita asked if she could bring her inside and I said of course, if she'd go.  To leave her outside would be inhumane.  She's really bonded with the girls of Teresa House, so that was the logical house anyway.

Baby kitty seemed exceptionally large and vigorous to me.  I didn't try to pick him or her up.  I examined mama and felt two more in there, and sure enough last night they were born.  Natalie and Crystal are ecstatic.



Jerry's chocolate covered pecans



Back to the chocolate covered pecans.  They are delicious! 

But I had to tell Jerry the truth:  They look distressingly like large bugs. 

He huffed, but you can judge for yourself.

So at this point on Super Bowl Sunday the score stands at Death: 2   Life: 3.  Be not proud indeed!