rambling on

2010-02-02T17:35:00.002-06:00

Forty.

Seems like alot of people dread this one. I guess it's just another day to me, although I don't feel like a forty year old should. In my mind I should be about 23, maybe. I really don't want to go back to 23. In my forty years I have seen the arrival of 8 tracks, then cassettes, then cd's, and now digital music that you could squeeze all your music collection into a device the size of a

credit card. The arrival of the microwave, the home computer, and the internet are all marvels that in 1970 were mere glimmers of things to come. I do the work I was born to do. Not many people can say that. I learn something new every day, or at least I try to. I am truly blessed to live and keep the tradition of 6 generations alive. In my years I have made and lost many friends. I treasure each of you.
My best friend is my wife Trina. We will celebrate 15 years this year. We've been through some great times, some tough times and all the time goes faster each year. I don't know exactly how, but I love her more each day. Today I can't see how I can love any more, but tomorrow I will. The same with our children. How can you love two more than the first one, or with the third?
I don't know, but you do.Your capacity for love expands I guess. Gives you insight of God's love for His children. I hope I can be the husband and father they deserve for 40 more.

I though this was appropraite today.. (Also a great U2 song) Psalms 40:1-2.
I waited patiently for the LORD;
and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.
He brought me up also out of a horrible pit,
out of the miry clay,
and set my feet upon a rock,
and established my goings.
God bless! Scott.

2009-12-05T10:28:00.002-06:00

My last post in June seems like a lifetime ago. Facing a long cat 3 drought with no end in sight we were looking to God for some relief. I guess He took pity on our dry land because we got the rain and plenty of it. Now I'm looking at moving out of survival mode and into herd expansion.

Looks like 2010 will be a little kinder to those of us in agriculture who feed the U.S. and the world.

Cate started pre-K at Red Rock and Callie started 5th grade at Cedar Creek. She is playing flute in band at just got first chair. Also won the grand prize in the Bastrop Pecan Show for her candy. She's also active in 4H. Sam's vocabulary is increasing. If if can get him to stop saying 'Moo' when he sees a toy or real horse! He also got his first haircut this week. Trina's subbing some and of course we continue with our sortings on Saturdays.

We wish all our family and friends a very merry Christmas. May His light shine on you in the coming year.

journals

2009-06-11T05:13:00.000-06:00

I found a treasure last week.
In an old box there was a stack of old journals that my grandpa had kept years ago.
I guess 'journal' is a little optimistic, because they were not really his deepest feelings. Mostly it was cattle weights, fertilizer ratios, hourly time schedules, the odd phone number.
But if you read between the lines, you could guess his day to day temperments. If he had trouble with one of the ranch hands, an entry read that he and the worker had a talk and a "good understanding" about the way thing were going to be if that worker was going to continue in employment on the ranch.
Invariably on Friday nights, my grandparents went to dinner with friends at Ray's Cafe (just down the hill from their house) or they carried someone over to the old Cottonwood Inn. I remember the place as a kid. It had these dummies propped up on the porch of the restaurant, dressed as cowboys. Dead cowboys, their heads half cocked as if to say.hey stranger, come on in. Try the fish. It was the last thing I et.
One of the later entries concerned my education. As you may know, I took a brief sabbatical from A&M between my sophomore and junior semesters that was a result of my shall we say lack of grade intensity. Anyway, after a semester of work and ACC I was admitted back into the College of Liberal Arts as an English major. Poultry Science wouldn't have me. I didn't even ask any other Ag-related departments. My PawPaw's words were--"He will study English." With 'English' underlined three times in disdain. The point is, I did well in the English dept. I didn't make great grades, but I passed everything and graduated. He never wrote he was proud or anything, but I know he was glad I decided to come home and work for the ranch.
That was worth more than words to me.

Ever have one of these days?

2009-04-12T23:55:00.004-06:00

This was last week. I decided this cow needed some encouragement to stay out of this mudhole that once was our big tank. So Operation Electric Eel went into effect.

I decided against putting up a new fence around the tank because SOMDEDAY it will rain and fill that tank up to the brim. After a little studying, some measuring and a trip to TSC, I had all the supplies I needed. Putting the posts and stringing the wire was easy, but when it came time to test the fence, I was heitant to do it again on purpose. I had gotten zapped a few times on accident. But Buster the Dog decided to sniff a little too close and with a yelp he told me that we had power. Kind of reminded me of a time long ago involving another electric fence, my little brother and an unfortunate time to go number one. But we won't talk about that.

Well, we've got spring calf working behind us. There were fewer calves than last year due to our contiued process of selling the culls, and selling lighter calves due to the drought.
On a positive note, the girls had a ball finding Easter eggs this afternoon. Sam will be hunting with them next year, I know.

Aspen 2009

2009-01-30T19:07:00.007-06:00

Aspen 2009
Last week I went to Aspen, Colorado. A college friend of mine put out an invite to come and spend a few days skiing at his family's condo in the Rockies. My buddies from my Corps of Cadet unit, B-2, try to keep in touch, make a few home games at Aggieland each year, but it is hard. When you are spread out all over the country and have wives and kids and commitments, its hard to break away for any amount of time. This time, we all had plenty of time to organize, save some dollars up (in my case) and block out a few days off. I flew out of Austin with my brother Tim and arrived in Denver on Thursday morning to find the snow capped mountains to the west draped with low clouds and a light snow coming down. After meeting the other 4 guys we rented a Suburban and headed west 4 hours and stopped in Glenwood Springs to buy groceries at the last Walmart before Aspen. We unloaded our gear at the Aspen Alps then went to pick up the other 3 guys from the airport outside of town, noticing the rows of Gulfstream and Lear jets lined up on the runway. I wondered which one was Oprah's.

It was a great reunion. Some of these guys I hadn't seen in several years, and somebody remarked that essentially, nobody had really changed that much. A few extra pounds, less hair, but basically the same unlikely group that we were almost 20 (twenty!) years ago. We decided that we should have a good meal to start our get together off right, so we wandered into the Hickory House, with the sign that boasted the Best Ribs in Colorado. Maybe that wasn't too high of a goal? But bbq sounded good.The sign inside that explained their pork was imported from Europe and fed tulips, seemed fishy, but it smelled and looked good as the plates passed by. The waitress suggested we order a couple orders of "The Feast." The menu said it feeds 3 or more.There were 8 of us, so a little Aggie math said 3 Feasts should do the trick. A couple of
pitchers and some onion rings, hey we're on vacation. Then the Feast arrived.The Feast consisted of 2 racks of ribs, a heaping platter of brisket, of sausage and chicken. And beans and corn and cornbread. And potatoes. We enjoyed the Feast all week. From then on, all prices were calculated by Feast currency. A lift ticket? That's two Feasts. Ski rental for 4 days? 1 Feast. Plane ticket to Aspen? 4.5 Feasts.

Friday was ski day. Everybody on the trip had at least some experience in snow, except, guess who. So, ski lessons were in order. The humiliating 'yes I barely know what a ski looks like, so put me in Beginner Magic 1.' But I must say the instructors really know how to put you at ease and guide you through the process without laughing out loud. The lessons were at the top of Buttermilk mountain. Buttermilk. Really? I guess Milktoast or Creampuff Mountains were taken. The lift up to the top was fun, though. It was really cool. So quiet. All you could hear was the wind softly blowing, as you watched a crowd gather around another unfortunate skier with a mangled leg. Now you hear another sound. It is the sound of the Ski Patrol snowmobile rushing to the wreck. What a great day to be skiing!

I must admit, learning to ski was hard for me. In fact, I really don't know if I actually 'learned,' but I was putting the turns together on the second day and didn't fall once on that day. I really need on more day of lessons before I 'really' take the slopes alone.The first day was pretty discouraging, but like I said, kudos to the instructors for their encouragement. All my buddies said the best part of the day was when you took you boots off. Boy, were they right. Our days in Aspen fell into a routine. Get up, drop the Millers off at Pansy Mountain, ski, meet at the end of the day and hit the shower rooms. Another of my favorite parts was the sauna room. Again, a first for me. The room was at a sweltering 150-F, and like all the movies you've seen, a ladle of water is poured over the heat to create clouds of steamy goodness. Although it was Gay Week in Aspen, there were no encounters in the sauna. The hot tub was a different story, but Scott didn't venture out of the bath house across a courtyard in 7 degree weather. The unfortunate guys that did were rewarded with a middle aged fellow dancing in a tiger striped banana hammock. I guess he was the target market for the colorful t shirt that proclaimed "I Can't Ski Straight--Aspen Gay Week 2009."

It was a trip I'll never forget and probably never make again, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Like the boots at the end of the day, it was wonderful to touch down in Austin,
to see my wife and children, give them a big hug and Finally turn onto Watterson Road.Hey, It's Good To Be Back Home Again. (Thanks, John Denver.) and thanks to Phillip
Bornefeld for his accommodations.

Maybe it's Time for a Re-think...

2009-01-05T17:29:00.004-06:00

This was an article in the TFB newsletter, I thought it was a good one.
By Lloyd J. Huggins
Editor’s Note: The following is a response to Nicholas Kristof’s Dec. 11 column in the New York Times, which called on President-elect Barack Obama to abandon national agricultural policies.
So Nicholas Kristof recommends we abandon agriculture as an important piece of the American fabric. In doing so, he casts a wide net, vilifying farmers and ranchers, along with agricultural policy in general, as he makes numerous misstatements regarding the nature of agriculture in the United States today.
Thankfully, one thing, he got right: Only 2 percent of America’s population provides the food which feeds not only the United States, but much of the rest of the world. We grow 40 percent of the world’s corn, as well as much of its rice and wheat—three crops which by themselves are the staple products for the bulk of diets the world over.
Mr. Kristof notes that 100 years ago about 35 percent of the population engaged in agriculture, a statistic which I believe points out how much more efficient agriculture is today.
Still, Mr. Kristof would rather rail against the "farm lobby," saying it has been "hijacked" by "industrial operators."
I, like many of my friends and neighbors, am a beef cattle rancher and farmer, as well as a proud member of the Texas Farm Bureau and American Farm Bureau Federation. As we all perform systematic labor for the purpose of producing food, I suppose we could be guilty of being "industrial operators." Given that we are members of the nation’s largest farm organization, we are also probably guilty of trying to influence government agricultural policy.
And because Farm Bureau policy, which directs our organization’s efforts, is developed at a grassroots level by county organizations of individual farmers and ranchers, it must clearly be a "hijacking" of governmental policy.
But the men and women I know are hardly pirates. We don’t represent a lot of votes, so we must lobby collectively in order to be heard. We hope to ensure our nation’s agricultural policy is common-sense and helps us continue to produce food for the world while allowing us to make a living doing so.
Mr. Kristof bemoans the loss of "family farms" to behemoth "industrial operations" and "factory farms." As I look at my neighbors, I see families—some with small operations and some with large operations—yet, they are all run by families.
Perhaps in New York State, agricultural operations are run by faceless corporations, but here the family farm is real.
Mr. Kristof says he regrets that his own kids don’t have the chance to grow up on a farm. Given that he owns land in Oregon, it appears he made a personal choice not to pursue the agricultural life, apparently leaving him somewhat bitter and resentful.
Maybe he couldn’t be satisfied with the low profit margins (when they are not negative) and the 12-14 hour days many farmers and ranchers embrace. Perhaps, he couldn’t live with the risks these farmers take when they put thousands of dollars worth of seed in the ground and then pray for rains that will germinate their crop, but not come at a time to ruin the harvest.
Or maybe he couldn’t endure the times ranchers watch their pastures burn up under a hot, dry sun and have to sell some of their best cattle at a loss due to drought.
The farmers and ranchers I know care for their animals and their land. They try to truly provide the best care they can afford for their livestock, while managing their land in a way that is sensitive to the environment and allows for sustained productivity of that land. They love the land, God’s creatures, and the lifestyle they have chosen.
Very few get rich, and most struggle to make a living that would be unacceptable by most urban standards. This small slice of our population provides our national food security and economic clout by virtue of how much of the world’s food supply they produce.
Given how few of us actually produce that food, perhaps today more than ever we need an effective, supportive Agriculture Department that can help ensure the survival of this tiny, but essential slice of our nation’s population.
Lloyd J. Huggins is a Hamilton County Farm Bureau leader and member of the current FarmLead class.

Merry Christmas 2008

2008-12-09T17:18:00.002-06:00

Merry Christmas everyone, I am writing the ubiquitous Christmas letter, not to brag or anything, just to catch anybody up on the Miller family.

I keep a journal for the year, and it even suprises me the trials and joys we have been through this year.

In February I turned 38. A little older and a little wiser, I hope. I had a growth removed from my uvula (look it up, genius) which was quite the ordeal. Let's just say the old gag reflex works fine, thank you. We also found out we we were having a boy that month. I guess you could say I was happy about it. Samuel Watterson Miller had a name. That same month, the boys from the Brad Pitt movie "The Tree of Life" came out for a little horseback activity and 'team building.'

In March I attended a B-2 reunion in College station and saw a few of my Aggie Buddies. That month we also hosted Cowgirl Weekend for 2008. Despite some hellacious weather and kitchen nightmares, we survived and I hope all had a good time.We sold some of our older bulls and began the process of buying some new ones, including a cream Charolais and about 20 Brangus pairs from Gonzales.

Our Frio trip in May was a welcome relief before summer really kicked in. Although the old Frio was low, it was nice and cool.

In June, we had a small cutting of hay on the Eastland place, and it looked like we might not get any more. Of course, the Big Event of the year was Sam's birth on July 3. 9 lbs of beautiful baby boy. We are blessed. Callie went to Alto Frio camp in Leakey for almost a week. She had a great time.

In September I had my wisdom teeth out. Thanks, Dr. McBee.

October was the beginning of the downturn in the livestock market. Calves that had brought $1.05 a pound were now bringing 70 cents. The election looms. Who will it be?As it turns out, it wasn't even close. The pendulum swings back toward the left. So here we are, looking at 2009, another year of life and love out here in Watterson,. Tx.From all of us Callie, Cate, Sam, Scott and Trina, God bless and keep you all!Merry Christmas!

howdy

2008-09-29T17:06:00.002-06:00

Howdy everybody!
I know I've been remiss in the blog, but so it goes when there is a 2 month (almost 3) baby boy in the house.
So what's been going on here on the ranch?
Well, let's see...
I got 2 wisdom teeth removed by the wonderful Dr. Mcbee in Smithville.
I'm not being sarcastic (for once). I had a small cavity on the side on a wisdom tooth, so the best option was to take them out. The thought of that stressed me out, but the actual extraction was a breeze. The recovery was a bitch, though. I guess I am a big baby, but the following week I was a pill poppin' daddy. Norco was my friend.
During that time, our hopes for a little moisture were dashed as Ike moved from west to east to no chance we were getting any rain. I know the poor people of Galveston would have spared a few inches if they could have, but we saw nary a drop.
In the days prior to Ike's landfall, I, like many of my neighbors, furiously prepared the ground and planted winter grass in anticipation of the 'sure thing,' but all we got was a
little wind. Hopefully a little rain this fall will bring on the rye and oats I put out.

SWM

2008-07-10T18:30:00.002-06:00

At St. Davids Hospital in Austin, Tx is a chair.
It is a sturdy nondescript stainless steel chair that is the reserved place for fathers before
they are allowed into the O.B. surgery room.
The chair faces a wall with 3 sinks that have the knee levers so the surgeons can wash their hands without turning a faucet.
Above the sinks are shelves filled with medicines with 23-letter names in bottles and boxes and bags.
This is where I found myself last Thursday at 2:46 pm.
I had been in that chair before on December 8, 2004, when Cate was born.
And the thoughts that go through your mind when you are in that chair.
I wondered how many fathers to be contemplated all the hopes and fears that laid in the room behind the doors just to one side of the chair.
Did they say a prayer to be strong and not to get a head rush when they stood up, so
they would not crumple to the ground?
Or were they strong assured everything was going to be all right.
As I was lost in these thoughts, a voice jolted me out of my musings.
"Mr. Miller, are you ready to see your son?"
I followed the doctor through the doors.
At 3:08 p.m. Samuel Watterson Miller took his first breath.
I forgot all about the chair.

summer in May

2008-05-30T17:36:00.001-06:00

News flash.
It's hot.
Summer is about here but early.
We had our Frio river trip early, so that kinda deflates those dreams I have on a hot
summer day when me and Pancho are packing herbicide backpacks walking up and
down the hills spraying mesquites, the endless summer war we wage.
Goes with the territory. I guess. I try to arrange hot jobs like that to be done by the heat of the day, but of course sometimes we just have to suck it up and get the job done.
Until we get some decent rain, hay will have to wait. So we are battling the weeds and mesquite trees until our hay (hopefully) greens up.
Pray for rain!

little house on the prairie

2008-04-29T17:04:00.009-06:00

What have I been doing?
Well, our project for March (besides the usual ranch stuff, painting the girls' rooms and making room for baby Sam) was moving a little house to the property.
Sounds easy, right?
This little cabin was 12x15. Not a big house, so with the help of a friend's backhoe, the plan was to lift the house, back my trailer, set down the house and keep it under 80 on the way home. Hold up cowboy. Watch out for the sidewalk. Oh yes, there is a septic tank 10 feet on the other side. And also 20 crepe myrtles all surrounding our house.
Well, after the backhoe was not going to lift the house from one side successfully (at least without crushing in one side) we decided a little help was needed with a Bobcat, which did the trick. I only hit a few limbs on the way home, but I noticed a few dozen angry drivers behind me as I turned on Watterson Rd. Anyway we made it, and thanks to Rob and Sherry, Dal and Daniel for all the help. And also David Mcadams for solving the mystery of the tripping breaker. We Think we'll use it as a guest room/B&B/Scott's doghouse(haha) or something . Anyway, we are just about through and as you can see,
Trina did the interior design. All we need is a name, so if anybody could suggest something catchy...

april blog

2008-04-01T18:59:00.002-06:00

Sorry its been so long. I really have been pretty busy.

Last week we have been doing our spring calf working.

I've been buying some bulls and replacement cows for the

ranch and been doing a bit of travelling in the process.

This is one part of the business I particularly enjoy.

The connections in the industry are more like old friends.

most of the breeders and cattle buyers we deal with have

been family friends for years. It's good to catch up with

them, see what's been going on since the last time we did

business.

It's estimated that only 1% of the population makes their

living solely from the land. A large number have cattle or

farm with one spouse working a town job. One of my

mentors was lamenting the fact that the auction runs were

down from the lack of cattle left in the country. I read

today that the 2007 U.S. calf crop was the smallest it's

been in 56 years. Corn is upwards of $5 a bushel. I don't

need to tell you about fuel and fertilizer.

With the price of real estate rising, after grandpa dies,

many of the kids sell the old home place and move on. To

me that is sad. To many, its just the smartest financial

decision. Some say if what you do doesn't consistently

turn a good profit, it's a hobby. To me, yes you have to

make a dollar, but there is a thing called tradition and

legacy and way of life. These things will get us ranchers

through the hard times. And a little help from Above

couldn't hurt.

Also, who's been eating my sandwich?

It was BEEF, America, BEEF!!!

Boozin' B class of '93

2008-03-02T16:26:00.003-06:00

I went to a outfit reunion this weekend in College Station.
For the uninformed, an 'outfit' is a Corps of Cadets unit at
Texas A&M University, roughly organized into a company
like an Army company of soldiers.
My class (1993) started with 25 freshmen or 'fish,' and
graduated 17, which for the Corps is a pretty high
percentage. My outfit has a long history of name changes,
with guys representing classes from the 60's and forward.
The longest slogan for company B-2 was Boozin' B, the
company that made Milwuakee famous. We were the
Boozers until 1994, when the name changed to the
Buzzards, then disbanded and now is back as the more PC,
B-2 Patriots. Gone is the Confederate flag emblazoned on
a wooden beer keg, replaced with a cavalry soldier with a
flag on a horse. I guess the powers that be decided the

image of a bunch of beer-swilling rebel hooligans was not
in line with the 'world class' University that A&M stides to
be.
But you know, looking over these guys at the reunion,
even the young cadets presently in B-2, all have that same
audacity that makes them successful. I think we need a
little of that to overcome the obstacles in life. Yes , they
may raise a little hell, maybe drink a beer, maybe pull
some outlandish pranks, torture and haze underclassmen,
but these are guys that have fought in the jungles of
Vietnam, rolled through Bagdad in tanks and gone after
the Taliban. They have risen up the corporate ladders,
started their own companies, taken risks, and become
leaders in industry, government and agriculture.
I am proud to say I am one of these. We are Aggies. We
don't always do the culturally acceptable thing. We
wouldn't have it any other way.
GIG 'Em!!
p.s, My buddy Dr. David Webb, DVM brought his 1977 Lincoln Continental convertible so guess what we cruised aroud all weekend in?

oh boy!

2008-02-19T17:24:00.004-06:00

We are a living Bible verse.

The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.

Any dad who never says he'd like a son is fooling himself.

One of my heart's desires was to have a son.

Now that I will, I shall not want for a son.

I was always a little jealous of my bro getting 2 boys!

(sorry Tim!) I love my daughters and would have been

geniunely happy with another girl, but there was that

secret desire to have a boy of my own. There's that whole

'carrying on the family name' bit, but its more elemental.

I'm still processing it all.

When you think of the valley of the shadow of death we

literally went through last year, it's amazing to see not

only we made it to the other side, but the sun is shining

brightly, and we really have no want.

Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.

You better believe it.

I need this horn

2008-02-18T12:13:00.001-06:00

38 years old

2008-02-01T07:03:00.000-06:00

I turn 38 on Feb 3.
Some interesting things have happened on this day in history.
In 1882, P.T. Barnum bought Jumbo the elephant.
1964 "Meet the Beatles" album goes gold.
1967 "Purple Haze" recorded by Jimi Hendrix.
And in 1979 the beloved "YMCA" reaches #2 on the pop singles charts.
I share a birthday with
Norman Rockwell -1894
Charlie "Pretty Boy" Floyd-1904
Henry Heimlich-1920 (Heimlich maneuver inventor)
Mr. Rogers-1928 Can you say aquarium? ah-kwar-ee-um, that's right. Very good. I knew you could do it,
You are special. Can you say special? Good, now let's get on the trolley to make-believe land.
Also, Blythe Danner, Nathan Lane and Morgan Fairchild.
It is also the "day the music died."
1959 when Ritchie Valens and the big Bopper's plane crashed. Bummer.
As a kid I wondered what I would be like as a grownup. And in many ways (ask my wife) I am still a kid.
I have a great privilidge and resposibility, running this ranch. I feel the weight of 5 generations looking over my shoulder and telling me, "We put our best years in this endeavor, now the torch is yours. What will you do with it?"
For all the trials of running a ranch, the one thing my grandpa always touted was the fact that there was always a variety of things to keep you busy. I find that to be very true.
Yesterday Pancho and I were fixing a stretch of fence where some outlaw strays had broke through onto our place. Then that afternoon, I was in Lockhart at the sale barn looking at some cattle, then to Home Depot for some parts, and then back home to put out some hay for a group of crazy heifers.
You kind of plan your day out, but sometimes, it plans itself. You have to be flexible in this business. You can't say, '10 oclock, time for my coffee break,' or 'it's 5, lets throw this down and leave it till tomorrow', or 'I'm not woring on the weekends, it's my time off.' All that goes with the territory.
But, its all worth it. As I write this, I see the sun coming up out of the eastern sky. I see God at work when that baby calf takes his first step, when the grass is greening up, when the cold front blows through you and you feel the winds turn around from the north. When it rains.
That's all the birthday present I need.

ice from sky

2008-01-16T06:29:00.000-06:00

An unusual thing happened last friday here on the ranch.
A frozen ice missile plummeted to the ground and embedded itself about 6 inches in the ground. I descibed it as pumpkin-sized and would have certainly been the end of anyone unlucky enough to be under it.
The thories abounded. Was it a meteor? Was it a large piece of hail?
Did it come off a plane? Or was it a tragic Slurpee malfunction? We may never know.
We're just glad we could laugh about it and not cry about this thing really ruining somebody's day.

rewind 2008

2007-12-27T18:12:00.000-06:00

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

2007-12-06T17:43:00.000-06:00

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

2007-11-15T16:59:00.000-06:00

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

2007-11-08T22:29:00.000-06:00

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...

2007-11-02T20:16:00.000-06:00

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

2007-10-30T16:22:00.000-06:00

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

2007-10-17T20:19:00.001-06:00

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

2007-10-03T05:33:00.000-06:00

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

2007-09-16T16:06:00.000-06:00

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

2007-09-04T17:03:00.000-06:00

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

2007-08-27T19:37:00.000-06:00

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

2007-08-11T18:43:00.000-06:00

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

2007-07-19T16:46:00.000-06:00

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.

2007-07-03T19:15:00.000-06:00

hay

2007-07-03T05:47:00.000-06:00

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

2007-06-10T08:15:00.000-06:00

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

2007-05-24T16:02:00.000-06:00

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

2007-05-16T21:36:00.000-06:00

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

2007-05-15T11:33:00.000-06:00

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