I don't really think I need to do much commentary on this one.
This is Tate.Tate belongs to Byron's oldest sister, Katie and her husband Roy, who live in Houston.
These pictures and videos are from last night's weekly "Pops in the Park" ... (or it's called something like that). Every Sunday night, a brass band plays at a park near campus.
Byron has said before that you can't teach personality. If that's the case, then Tate was born with a lot of it!
I think this little dudo has some potential, too. This is Tucker. He's got a couple of years before he can fully acquire some brass band conducting skills.
Perhaps the wildest thing about living in West Texas is the occasional occurrence of this red wall of dust.
A storm blew in last night and in front of it was a giant wave of red dirt. I got the camera out just before the red wave flooded over the neighborhood. Right before my eyelids filled with dirt, the air got cold and the wind picked up about 40 mph.
To see the sky overtaken by the dust is not something I'll ever get used to, but it's amazing to watch.
The lights are basically turned off.
Normally, this kind of picture would really irritate me, but I think it helps show how many little dust particles are in the air.
This is one of those things they leave off of the Lubbock post card.
There is absolutely no accountability any more in the American media. We've seen the journalistic pendulum swing from the sensationalistic writing of the 1920s to the misleading reporting of today.
Anyone with a video camera and enough money to produce a film can create a "documentary" about one of their soapboxes - regardless if it has all of the facts straight. That's exactly what the makers of Food Inc. have done to explain their misinformed views about where America gets its food.
This film is absolutely ridiculous. What's even worse is high profile morning shows like Good Morning America can promote the film and further mislead Americans.
Does anyone check their facts anymore?
Food Inc. is a documentary that tries to convince the American public that their food comes from large-scale "factory farms" or "huge agribusinesses".
The film begins with a horse-drawn harvester in a wheat field and depicts "the way American agriculture used to be before large-scale agribusinesses took over the family farm". They claim American agriculture is dominated by millionaire farmers who make their fortunes by mistreating animals and tearing up the environment.
GARBAGE!
Are you kidding me? Millionaire farmers? Do these people have ANY idea about American agriculture is really like?How many millionaire farmers do you know? Seriously.
It's not dominated by large, corporate farms. Read this excerpt from The Hand That Feeds U.S., a campaign aimed at educated urban media about the truth about agriculture:
Ninety-eight percent of U.S. farms are family owned, and the number of non-family corporate farms—an percentage of sales from those farms—has remained virtually unchanged since 1978 (before the modern-day farm bill was even around), according to the Department of Agriculture (USDA).
Large farms, defined by the USDA today as any with sales of $500,000 or more, encompass nearly every full-time farmer in America. And any full-time farmer will tell you that gross sales is not the same thing as net profit. According to USDA data, a 650-acre cotton farm will need to sell more than $500,000 a year just to cover production costs—the same can be said for an 800-acre corn and soybean operation.
These farms produce three-quarters of the country's food, and because they are so essential to America's food security, they are covered under the 2008 farm bill. Importantly, the farm bill also provides a strong safety net to part-time producers who might not grow as much of America's food and fiber, but are important parts of rural America nonetheless.
Ironically, those sectors of agriculture that opted against having a direct form of a safety net in the farm bill have been the most susceptible to vertical integration with large agribusinesses—a tiny detail most farm policy opponents conveniently ignore.
This movie presents such a unrealistic view of how to feed a growing nation. Apparently, we're all supposed to start growing our own food in our backyards.
If all consumers tried to grow their own food, or at the very least bought it from only local farms with limited capacity, it would result in drastically lower levels of food production than we experience now; making our food more expensive without any increase in its nutritional value or improvement in its safety. It would also result in fewer food choices for consumers and possibly lower nutrient intake. Consumers would also likely have to quit their jobs in order to grow and harvest their food, taking us backwards in the United States’ progress as a leading innovator and technologically forward-thinking nation.
Get for real people. If you think American agriculture is causing you to get fat, or is detrimental to your health, or is starving third world countries, or is taking food away from you by creating ethanol - grow ALL of your own food for a while and let me know how that turns out.
Want more information about why this movie is garbage?
Between cattle working and snake killing this weekend in Rotan, we stopped by Brooke's Cafe to snap Round 2 of our engagement pictures.
Norvelle brought his trusty camera and we tried to pretend we were good at being photographed while people in the cafe looked at us funny.
Luckily, we hit the time between the Saturday lunch hour rush and when the cowboys were coming in off the range.
I had pictured how this particular photo shoot would look in my head for a while, and Norvelle captured exactly what I was hoping to get from this cafe. I wanted a casual, rustic, small town look, and that's exactly what we got.
I weeded out a few pictures like this one (totally the subject's fault here, not the photographer's!) and this one...
(I look like I'm about to carve someone's liver, but I think I was actually checking to see if there were any brownies left.)
...and added some Photoshop action "recipes" to the best images.
I think these pictures really captured us in our natural element.
I hate them. I hate them with a passion. It's very fitting that the serpent is the symbolic representation of Satan.
Byron said it best when he said they evoke a primal fear inside of you.
If primal fear involves your body's entire muscle and excretory systems shutting down, then yes, I'd say that's very accurate.
We built fence this weekend in Rotan. I had asked on the way out to the creek whether I should be realistically aware of rattlesnakes while we were working. The answer was yes.
Since we hadn't seen a rattlesnake yet, I tried to shrug it off like we wouldn't really see one.I had never seen (or heard) a rattlesnake in the wild that wasn't dead on the highway. Granted I saw plenty of them at the Rattlesnake Roundup, but that's slightly different. They're contained there. Prior to fence building, we had to pick up some supplies from the old pump house.
Norvelle mentioned as he was about to open the door that this would be a good place to see a rattlesnake.
He opened the door - nothing. He stepped into the pump house and - RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE.
Actually, it sounds more like a really loud - SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Scariest thing I've ever heard.
Needless to say, I was well on my way back to the truck by the time I heard this.Primal fear - yes, most definitely.
I couldn't get far enough away from it.
Like any good pair of native West Texans, Byron and Norvelle had to kill it. They could only hear it at first. From the sound (and my imagination) it sounded like there could be 100 of the little devils in there.
Eventually, they had a visual. Byron found a hoe and began whacking at it. Me? I was huddled in the truck trying to think happy thoughts that didn't involve my fiance having a massive snake bite.
During the whacking, Byron said, "As long as we can hear him, we're all right."Then he accidentally whacked off the snake's rattle. So much for that plan. Now it would be up to a battle of wills.
From my position, I heard lots of whacking, a "watch it!", a few laughs, and a lot of "SHHHHHHH" as the snake became increasingly irritated. Finally, Byron was able to pin the snake down with the hoe and drag it closer. At that point, I saw Norvelle beating it's head to pieces. This was a welcomed sight. Neither men had been bitten, and, from what I could tell, I was still breathing 100 yards away in the truck.
By the time it was all over, I was extremely aware of my surroundings - checking the ground every .5 seconds to make sure nothing was slithering or coiled up at me. I even made sure the truck's interior was clear of all wildlife. I vowed not to go near the site until I had confirmation of a reptile body. Once I had that, I still didn't get too close. There may be one less snake in the world, but I'm certain there are a few less years of my life.
It's been too long since I last got up early to work cows. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it. It's one of those rewarding, "got up early to work outside" kind of feelings that is always a great start to any day.
Saturday morning, we loaded up Byron and Norvelle's calf crop for the year and took them into town for some shots and castratin' - we had fun, but I don't think it was a red letter day for the calves.
It was a gorgeous West Texas morning.
Ike the ranch hand had the cows and their calves already penned and ready to be sorted. Ike has the look of a West Texas character.
Ike also has these cows so tame you can walk up and pet them. In fact, the calves could have cared less we were moving them around. Klay and Byron picked one up and carried it into thetrailer...that's how docile these little doggies are. Where's a camera when you need one?
Herefords have been the go-to bovine of choice for the Kennedys over the years.
After a stop at the vet, we brought back the calves to their mamas and turned them out to pasture. Half of them were walking a little gingerly.
I don't really think I need to do much commentary on this one.
This is Tate. Tate belongs to Byron's oldest sister, Katie and her husband Roy, who live in Houston.
Byron has said before that you can't teach personality. If that's the case, then Tate was born with a lot of it!
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