rewind 2008

Scott's best and worst of 2007
Not neccesarily in order

Ok, I'll start with the best.

Hearing the incredible, life-changing news that my wife not only has no signs of a brain tumor, or MS or scarring, but that there must have been a misdiagnosis. That's doctor-speak for the unexplainable hand of God. This is one verse that I clung to durng those dark days.

"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler."-Psalm 91:3

I can remember reading that after Cate was delivered and found that the cord had been around her neck.
Thank the Lord for unwrapping that and lifting my daughter out of the snare, and now my wife too has been delivered from that snake, the fowler. The Evil one. To Hell With the Devil!

On a lighter note, the Miller clan will expand in 08. July is the estimated arrival at this point. If I hear "...Y'all know what causes that, right?" one more time... Weird to think, that when Callie is graduating high school, #3 will be in 2nd grade!

Frio River. It's cold, it's clear, it's beautiful. We love it.

The rains this year were a God send. We have had much abundant rain that replentished many dry stock tanks, creeks and rivers. Which also provided for a banner year for hay production.

Our ranch sortings became a weekly deal, and we had great response and participation with these.
We will be changing these to Sat night in '08.

I attended the TSCRA's School for Successful Ranching in Ft. Worth, learned some useful things.
(note to self, don't leave toolbox in back of truck in Ft. Worthless.)

Hwy 304 played several gigs this year, Relay for Life, Bastrop's 4th of July, and of course the sold out show at Cowgirl Weekend.

Trina got her SUV, a Suburban. (seats about 20.)

We got high speed internet this summer. How did we operate without it?

websites I like
Youtube
Blogger
Craigslist
Stampedecattle

Movies we enjoyed.
Bridge to Terrabithia
Reign Over Me
Evan Almighty
The Departed

Thanks to our family, friends and clients for all you love, support and prayers this year.
May the Lord bless you and yours in 2008.

Scott

Trina's story

To anyone who hasn't heard this amazing and true story, here ya go.
I can hardly believe this all happened this year. We serve an awesome God.
Take the time to read this and you'll be blessed.

www.wattersonranch-equine.com/Trina_s_BLOG.php

My brother Tim

I have a brother who lives in Round Rock. Tim is married to an Aggie girl, and they have 2 boys. Many of you don't ever see him, or know him, but he has really distinguished himself in the business world. I thought it appropriate to share the awards he recently achieved. This is from the Aggie100 list. Tim, we are darn proud of ya!
Tim Miller ‘93 says he didn’t start with a big idea; he just knew that he saw an opportunity and was tired of working for someone else. Opportunity knocked and he followed by creating Intelligent Logistics, this year’s #3 company with a growth rate of 168.69%. Tim co-founded the Company in 2001 and now owns 100% of the operation. Round Rock-based Intelligent Logistics isn’t just a high-flying Aggie company; the Company was also listed at number 551 on the Inc. 5000 list of fastest growing private companies.
The Company is all about meeting the logistics needs of their premier clients. Their services include truckload brokerage, domestic forwarding, international forwarding, local cartage and warehouse and inventory management. They will also take on special projects to meet a client’s needs. Tim’s Aggie Corps background has been a big help. According to him the "Corps taught me about dealing with obstacles, dealing with adversity and not to take anything too seriously, including myself." All are probably good qualities when it comes to meeting a client’s demanding logistics needs.
The Aggie Code of Honor to --not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do-- is also an extremely relevant business principle. Integrity is everything. -Tim Miller

The band, the dog, and the cake

As many of you know, I play in a little country/oldies/random anything band. I guess I have dogs on the mind because I recalled this story that happened a few years back. The guys and me had been asked to play for a wedding reception at a house quite a few miles off the main road.
The setting was beautiful. The bride's parents had rented a large tent complete with Christmas lights and a canoe held the iced beverages. A dance floor was in place and a catered BBQ meal was almost ready. Besides the caterers, the band was the first on the scene.
The Hwy 304 band usually takes an hour or so to set up, assuming no one forgot anything, which I believe something was forgotten and one of the guys had to rush 15 miles back home to get the extension cord, amp, or whatever it was we had to have. One of the relatives rushed out of the house, to make it back to the church for the wedding pictures. "Be right back," she yelled as she spun out down the dirt road.
Unbeknown st to me, the lady had tried to save some time by putting the wedding cake on a table on the front porch. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. What she did not know, and what I didn't know was, the old hound dog that was supposed to be tied had gotten hungry. I'm sure it wasn't the cake that made him gnaw the rope in two. The fragrant aroma of smoked brisket made everybody's stomach growl with anticipation, mine included.
I was adjusting a cymbal stand or something when something caught my eye. Something that shouldn't be moving on the porch was moving. Before I could comprehend the horror, the tragedy, the gravity of the situation, I heard a voice. It was a familiar voice, it was MY voice. GITONOUTTAHEA!!! I ran as fast as I could up the steps, but it was too late. Not only was his head nose deep in wedding cake, but there were two craters where a pair of paws had been.
I can't remember if we drew straws, but I was chosen as the one to inform the Mother of the Bride that her beautiful cake was ruint.
She did not cry. Or scream. Or faint. She decided that the cake, made by the famous Green Pastures Restaurant in Austin, Texas, would be fine. "We'll just turn it around, and no one will know." And she did. I will always hold great respect for that lady. Talk about the cowgirl spirit!
We went on to play to a great reception, even letting a guy and his wife sing a strange version of "Marie Levoe."
As Levon Helm once said, the drummer has the best seat in the house.

his name will be called...

The Indians often didn't name their children until the child did something to inspire a worthy name. This is how my dad David got his.
When our daughter Callie was born, we knew Dad would not have a regular name like grandpa, Pee-paw, or gramps.
One night, before going to bed Dad looked out one more time to make sure all was well outside before turning in. A flicker of red emanated from the barn. Then it stopped. Then, there it was again. On, off, on off. There was only one explanation. Some lowlife was hot wiring the old Jeep CJ5 out in the barn. Quickly he rustled through a drawer and found the bullets for his pistol. Fast but quiet as a cat, he pressed against the shop, then to the barn, moving sideways, pistol gripped by two sweaty hands, pointing skyward, Starsky and Hutch style.
(At this point of the story, Dad claims to have dropped and rolled, coming up with the culprit in his sights, trigger cocked. True or not, that makes for a great visual).
Expecting to find a cowering carjacker, he instead saw our blue Catahoula hound, Big Boy on the floorboard looking up with a sleepy dog smile, wagging his limb like tail. And pressing the brake pedal.

So Grandpa+Rambo= Grambo.

I see it now

We hosted our 1880's extravaganza event this weekend. For those who don't know, it was an all-girl weekend where the ladies got to get a taste of the 'old days.' They herded cattle from the big pasture to the corral pens, roped, branded, and spent a cold night under the full moon. The camp cookies (Uncle Bill, Bobo, Linda, and myself) cooked dutch oven biscuits and gravy along with the very popular cowboy coffee in the old blue coffee pot.
I guess it takes seeing the ranch through another's eyes to give me a fresh take on our outfit.
For one thing, I have a way of doing things. I didn't really know I did, but I do. I kind of always criticized my grandpa for wanting our roundups to be done THIS way, HIS way. He always seemed to assume that if you were out there helping, you should naturally have his instincts and skills and mannerisms for handling cattle. Never mind you were 12 and mostly were interested in NOT getting kicked in the juevos by that wild eyed Charolais calf with his tongue hanging out.
But, you learn.
I had to remind myself that many of our guests were just out here trying to get to do what I sometimes consider a chore. They saw it as a privilege.
Guess what... They are right.
Good job cowgirls.

dad

Last week my dad, David had heart surgery.
I've been through illness with my grandparents before, but when it's your immediate family, well, that hits close to home.
Trina's stay in the hospital earlier this year and now this are two times I'm glad to see in the rearview mirror. It takes these moments for us to realize how weak and fragile and temporary life is. And how precious (if I can borrow Linda's word) it truly is.
You never know when your time is coming, so it's important to tell your wife "I love you." Or your grandpa or daughter or dad.
Trina, if you're reading this, I love you!
Dad, I love you!
Give your mom a hug.

The War

This week and last, I watched the PBS series by Ken Burns "The War."
I encourage everyone to see this documentary. I know its 15 hour length may be daunting, but I think it really put that great and tragic war into a new light with which many of us, especially the children of the Baby Boomers, may have never seen.
My own grandpa served in the states training black troops, deemed unfit to go overseas because of a bad back. Many of his friends from the class of 1940 at Texas A&M went to the Philippines and did not survive the Bataan death march.
Trina's grandfather served on an ammunition ship in the Pacific. Neither one talked much about the war, and I think many of the vets didn't discuss the details much to their families and those who didn't go.
14 million Americans wore their country's uniform and served in one of the branches.
Many, many did not make it home.
Average Americans were asked to ration and cut back on consumption, in contrast to today's war where we are asked to spend more.
Like today, many of the fighting men could not see the point of their orders to take an apparently insignificant Pacific island like Iwo Jima or a European town like Bastone. Why spend hundreds or thousands of lives defending or taking these places?
To some, when the German death camps were liberated, at least some of their sacrifices had meaning.
There were no direct connections made to today's conflict but the parallels are there.
Maybe in time we will see why it was necessary to invade Iraq. Maybe it will be worth it.
Over 1,000 WW 2 veterans die every day. If you know one, thank him.

the lazo

When we arrived at the church where the wedding
rehearsal was, police were in the driveway and had put up
the yellow warning tape that said 'do not cross'. The
rehearsal had to be in another location, and all weekend I
thought about the tragedy that ended a young man's life.
This wedding had some traditions that I had not
experienced before. The bride's brother explained the
arras, or coins, were given to the groom as a symbol of the
parent's trust in the groom. The groom then places the
coins in the brides hands, signifying his trust to her all his
worldly possessions.
The tradition that resonated deeper was the lazo. It was
a 'lasso' of a ornately beaded crucifix that was placed
around the kneeling couple's necks. It symbolized the
bond of matrimony that tied them together as one.
Here I was in this beautiful church, rich in tradition. A
place of hope and happiness for two who had come here
together with all their friends and family.
What a paradox, just the night before this holy place had
been the scene where a lost soul had found no hope or
faith, ended his life here.
The lazo of life. broken for one, forever binding two.
Muchas felizidades Brian and Neddie. May you have long
and happy lives with God and each other.

what I did this summer

Well it seems the summer consisted mainly of rain, but looking back at the old journal, Scott did a few interesting things this summer of 2007.
In May I BBQ'ed chicken for my sister Megan's high school graduation. It was a hot day, but it was good to see little sister cross the stage. Plus there was karaoke, which was fun. My bro and I sang "The Weight" and Callie sang "Obla-Di O Bla Da."
June was our annual trip to the Frio River at Leakey, Tx. We rented a different house this year that was great. Right on the river. We rented kayaks and tubes and soaked it in. Great trip.
The weekend we got back, Trina and I hosted a group from Minnesota for a hayride and steak cookout here at the ranch.
June also was when we got into the square bale hay business. We brought in 1350 nice coastal Bermudagrass bales, and ended up selling most of them out of the barn.
Then the rains came. The Watterson round bale operation pretty much ground to a halt. I got a P.A. system for our team sortings.
In July yours truly was recruited to play in a jazz quartet for a wedding. That was a first. I'm NOT Buddy Rich. We also had the biggest turnout for the Watterson 4th of July picnic, in the pouring rain of course.
The remainder of the summer was hauling hay when we could, working on broken tractors, selling a few calves and watching it rain.
We hosted our first co-ed rodeo in Smithville in August.
Labor Day weekend we had the TETRA group here for a ride, and we cooked catfish for 50.
Now Callie has started 4th grade. Where did it go?

The cement story

I heard a story a while back.
There was a man in a foreign country who ran a successful cement manufacturing plant. The government in that country changed hands and the plant was taken from its owner and given to a friend of the new ruler of that country. This new owner had never been in the cement business before, but business was good. No one knew the previous owner had employed a worker whose sole job was to sweep the cement off the roof of all the plant buildings. And so, every day a thin layer of cement dust accumulated on the rooftops. In the mornings, the dew fell and hardened the cement. The next day, the dust fell, the dew hardened, and so on. Then one day, the roof could not withstand the tremendous weight of the cement on the roof. The roof collapsed and all the machinery was ruined. The business was lost.

Bitterness is like that. Day after day, anger falls and bitterness hardens it until, one day like the roof, it all comes crashing down.

God, give us the broom of forgiveness. Amen.

You find out who your friends are

That Tracy Lawrence song stuck with me all week. "You find out who your friends are, somebody's gonna drop everything/ hit the gas, get there fast/ never stop to think whats in it for me...
This week I saw several examples in the news about selfish or greedy folks.
The guy who caught the Barry Bonds homerun baseball. The mad struggle that ensued and how the mob fought each other for a chance to kick him while he was down and steal his ball away. There was a woman who ended up with that guy's flip flop, and said, "well.. maybe it's worth somethin." Or the cowards who held up the manager of Brookshire Bros. this week. Aren't these pictures of our 'what's in it for me' world?
Well, not always. We were baling hay this week when the guys we hired couldn't/wouldn't show up. Trina got on the horn and within an hour 5 guys were here ready to help us get our hay in. Now I know they had better things to do than wrestle 65 pound square bales on a 100 degree day, but there they were.
I hope I can live up to the example these have shown.

Lee Jarosek

Lee Jarosek
Lee was a unique guy. He literally 'grabbed life by the horns'


If there was a task in front of him to do, he'd jump off in it

with his boots on, right or wrong. There is something to

be said for that. He was as loud as I am quiet. We just had

different styles. I like to consider things a little bit before

taking the leap, but Lee didn't care who said what when he

was ready to roll.

I wasn't in Lee's inner circle, but he did invite me to go

deep sea fishing with him several years back. That was

something certainly out of my comfort zone, but I went

and ended up with the biggest Kingfish on the trip. Lee

always made an effort to include you. He always called me

'big boy,' but that was just his way of calling it like he saw

it.

There was only one Lee. He was one of a kind. He loved

the cattle business, he loved Gracie and he loved Thres.

One time we were at Lee's and he had to call the customer

service to order a pay per view movie. That operator didn't

know what hit her, because Lee asked her if she could use

a few 'bebecaves.' I don't think he made that sale, but its a

call that operator wouldn't soon forget.

Lee Jarosek was the eternal optimist. That next big deal

was just over the horizon. He was constantly struggling to

reach that end. Well my friend, now you can rest. You

have reached the Big Deal.

I heard a preacher tell Thres that his daddy couldn't come

see him now, but that Thres could someday go to see his

Daddy in heaven.
I hope there is some comfort in that.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 says

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those

who have fallen asleep, or grieve like the rest of men, who

have no hope.

We can cry and grieve. But those of us who believe have

hope and faith that we will see Lee again one day.

This is a song that Stevie Ray did that says it all. Listen

what he says before the song.

hay

We kind of backed into the hay business this year. I just wanted to avoid the $8 dollar hay from last year, so we got one of our neighbors to bale some square bales for us, maybe 400 or so.
Well, 1350+ bales later, I was faced with WHAT TO DO with a endless line of hay bales strethching over the horizon. Thanks, Craigslist! After all our nearby neighbors got their hay, then the Others came, wanting 10, 15, 25, and occasionally the 100 bales. It's been interesting to meet all the customers who want our commodity for anything from horses, cattle, goats, and mulch. I feel like a salesman as I go through the spiel of when it was baled, how much does a bale weigh, and was it weed sprayed, and how much fertilizer. All I need is the checkered jacket. And, when are you getting the next cutting. Watterson Ranch Forage Division........open for business. Thank you to all of our friends, neighbors and customers. Someone said you will be ahead of 90% of your competition if you show up on time, charge a fair price and do a good job. We try to do that every day.

frio river

This week we took our annual pilgrimage to Frio River country.Actually near Leakey, Texas. In the years we had been before, this was the highest the water had ever been, which made for some fun and at times nervous kayaking and tubing. If you have never been to the Frio, you owe yourself to make it down there at least once. true to its name, the water is ice cold. But on a 95 degree day, that's not a bad thing. the water is crystal clear and you can see the fish swimming around. The giant cypress, pecan and oak trees shade its banks as you take all of God's creation in. My brother and his family, Trina's aunt and uncle and some other friends went with us, so we took turns cooking each night. Truly a great and relaxing time. Oh, and on the way home we went down hw 337 towards Bandera. Wow. Probably the steepest and most twisty road in Texas, and the views were awe inspiring. Anyway, we recommend it to all!

fisherman's park

The girls and I had a little outing on Tuesday evening. We had a picnic at fisherman's Park and walked along the river trail which crosses under the bridge in Bastrop.

All was well until Cate got a lapful of chocolate frosty blown by a sudden gust of wind. The picnic was over at that point. Then it was straight to the playscape where Callie promptly pointed out the someone had written the 'F' word on the slide and why did they do that? Well, before any more interesting words were discovered, I suggested that we take a stroll down the riverside trail. Cate soon lost her flip flops and went barefoot, which was fine by me. I pointed out the trumpet vines, fragrant honeysuckle, and bamboo, as well as the giant pecan and cottonwood trees. Don't forget the poison ivy, oak and sumac! We played I spy with the brass markers on the trail. Final score: Scott 7 Callie 8.

We all complain about the congestion and the explosive growth in Bastrop, but just beneath the bridge that crosses the Colorado, you can still get a glimpse of Bastrop like she used to be.

wednesday

Today we got back to weed control, or 'Brush Busting,' as they say at A&M. I put out Grazon on the tractor and Pancho sprayed mesquites on the Gator with some Remedy and Reclaim.
It really was a pleasant day. Just wish I wasn't dragging around a sprayer... Well needs' doin, as my Grandpa used to say.

today

here is my 1st post. how's it look?