Prologue:

The first subject of this diary piece (January 2, 1900) is a married daughter of a pioneer family. Her parents came to western Kansas in 1873 and proved up on land offered by the United States government under the Homestead Act. At the writing of this piece, she and her husband Ed, their three children - Lewis, Maude, and baby Mary, are on their own ranch approximately 30 miles from Garden City, Kansas. Ed and a neighbor named Ben have gone with two wagons and teams to Garden City to purchase barbed wire, Christmas gifts for their families, and medical supplies for their nearby tiny settlement.

The second subject (January 2, 2000) is her grand-daughter. This woman farms and ranches in partnership with her husband Elmer and three of her four grown sons. They live on the original homestead of the first subject's parents.

January 2, 1900
A Day in the Life of a Rancher's Wife

I am really tired tonight. I guess I'm lonely too and I'll be so glad when Ed finally gets home. Lewis is wonderful with Maude and the baby even though he's only seven. They played hopscotch this morning on the kitchen floor while I was out choring with the chickens and the calves. I burned my leg a bit carrying the hot mash to the hens this morning. Heating that mash is a stinking chore but the hens love it and they really lay eggs so much better when they can keep warm.

That fool cow never did come back after her calf. What an ungrateful critter. She'd laid there all afternoon yesterday with that water bag out and no progress with her birthing. Then when I went out with the chip-apron and pulling straps and helped her deliver she promptly got up and bolted north with never so much as a glance back at her calf. I left him there by the fence for an hour or so wrapped in the apron but she never returned. He was a huge calf. I'd never have gotten him back to the house without the apron to drag him on. He was awfully cold when we got him in. He spent the night in the crate behind the kitchen range and Malcolm took him to the barn this morning after we'd fed him warm milk.

We're so lucky to have Malcolm here. He's only sixteen but he takes care of the stock as well as any man. I'm sure his folks miss him. The snow isn't drifted badly but is so deep and his folks are without his help with their stock. His nights in the barn have to be cold for him. I've offered the cot in the kitchen each time the storms came but he will only sleep in the house when Ed is home. It would be lots harder if I had the cow to milk but Malcolm does that before he comes in for his breakfast.

It's been three weeks since Ed and Ben left with the wagons and teams. It's a three-day drive to Garden City but this heavy snow has me worried that they may have had much trouble. When the sun is bright and I'm busy I can believe they've holed up somewhere along the way. It's just when the night closes in I feel a kind of panic.

I cooked a ham from the smoke-house and warmed up the beans from yesterday for both meals today and there is plenty of each for tomorrow.

Maudie and the baby seem pleased with their little "Christmas Twig". We strung the popcorn and hung that and my jewelry on the pitiful little thing for decorations this afternoon. I had put that off as long as I thought I could. Lewis has to be wondering if Christmas will ever come but mostly he watches the window for a sight of his Dad and the wagons. We live from sun to sun. Ed took the watch when he left and the mainspring on the clock has been broken for so long now I don't seem to miss it anymore.

I've resolved -- again -- to read Mother's October letter on Sunday evenings only. When I read her letters I feel close to her but must always try to get my reading and writing done while I have the daylight. I hope Ed brings a letter from her when he does come. I pray God Jase has either recovered from the brain fever or died. I miss my brother but the heartache of thinking of him living with a destroyed brain is more than I can bear.

It could be days more before Ed can get home and we have to save the lamp oil for an emergency. Candlelight is no good -- my headaches recur if I spend time in that light. I pray God none of us gets really sick.

I am so thankful for the cow-chip shed, the woodpile and the little bit of coal we have left. The root cellar Ed fixed last summer is a real blessing too. We have plenty of food for a long time but God help us if we get a driving blizzard before Ed comes home.

I will remember -- I am strong. I am healthy, the children are well and we are housed. Amen.

January 2, 2000
A Day in the Life of A Rancher's Wife

The blasted alarm didn't go off until 6 a.m. We'd watched a film on TV last night and I'd forgotten to turn the alarm setting back to 5. That meant I was a bit late calling the men for their start to the feedlot to meet the cattle trucks. Every one of the men were pretty sleepy at the wake-up calls but hungry as bears when they came in for breakfast. Those cowboy breakfasts have become a tradition and everyone eats hearty after they've been out in the cold for an hour or two.

Eighty head went to the processing plant this morning. That tally is an important part of the bookwork - for us and the bankers.

Soon as breakfast was cleared up and cleaned away I put beef stew on the stove to cook slow. It seemed to warm the house and left me free to get to the bookwork. Sure made the house smell good all morning too.

The temperature at six this morning was 20 degrees below zero. The radio weather forecasts are for more snow tomorrow. The men will bring bedding to all the penned cattle and clear the snow back from the trails so any new snowfall won't plug the way to the pens and pits. It's good to have all the corn silage, wheatlage and chopped hay ready for the 1000 plus critters we have up there.

I spent the entire morning at the computer doing bookwork and paying bills. Thank God the bills during January aren't as heavy as they are in June and August. That would run the line-of-credit up and panic would set in for sure. Those repair bills during the growing and harvesting seasons are pretty depressing sometimes. I have the bookwork all ready for the accountant to make the 1099s for the hired help. It's a chore but I'm always glad when it's done and the paperwork delivered to the tax-return preparer.

I did a load of laundry and ironed a few shirts for tomorrow's basketball games at school. Three of the grandkids will play and we'll try to be there to watch that.

Men came late for their noon meal. They'd been busy with the shipped-in calves and forgot I needed a couple hours to make the trip to town for repairs and vet supplies. I left bowls on the counter and a note on how to warm their stew in the microwave if need be.

They cleaned the metal shop while I was gone to town, then vaccinated that fifty head of calves after I got back. Short afternoons make for quick work when the noon meal is late.

Elmer came in for supper at "dark-thirty" and seemed extremely tired. Walking in the deep snow all afternoon gets to him these days. He wanted very little supper so we had sandwiches and potato soup. His favorite for a cold winter night.

No TV tonight for me. I wrote letters and played a few games of solitaire on the computer. A blotto dumb game but it gets me in a frame of mind to go to sleep quickly.

The entire family is well and productive. I am grateful. Amen.

Epilogue

My grandfather did come home to his family on the Kansas prairie.  He and the neighbor Ben were gone from their homes five and a half weeks in all.  They spent part of the time during the snow-storm and for three days after the snow and wind quit in Garden City helping clear the streets of snow so people could get around in the town.

An entire week was spent on the trip home due to the heavy snow cover and lending some help to families along the way where the two men stopped for suppers and shelter for the night.  Pioneers on the high plains were accustomed to taking and giving shelter and food to their traveling friends, neighbors or even strangers as the need was made known to them.

My father, Lewis (the seven year old boy in the story) received a pocket knife for Christmas.  He carried that knife throughout his entire life.  He remembered his fathers "Halloo" as he and Ben approached with the teams and wagons.  He loved telling and retelling of the happy celebration that night at supper when the family was reunited and the gifts were set beside the little decorated tree limb.

The gifts for Maudie and baby Mary was a length of calico for dresses to be made in the spring.  Their mother (my grandmother) had made rag dolls and outfitted the dolls with dresses.  These she presented to their daughters and I'm sure those dolls were loved and worn out during the girls' growing.

Malcolm was gifted with a knife like the one for Lewis and I understand he broke the long blade trimming harness but kept the smaller blades sharp for many years.

Grandpa's gift for his wife was a length of calico as well.  Her gift to her husband was a knitted wool scarf she had made while he was gone.  My remembrance of him was that he always wore a scarf at his neck-a red or blue bandanna in the hot summers and something wooly and warm just under the neck of his coat or jacket during cold weather.