This is from the New Mexico Stockman, a ranchers’ magazine. For some reason, I thought we could all use another little break. These look like they’re made from humongous tire carcasses, and I’ll bet they’d last a long, long time:
Oddly enough, we’re heading off shortly to look at an actual ranch house for rent. It’s much too cheap, though, so something must be screwy. They raise registered Angus on the place. Maybe the tenants have to help with branding?
And by the way–another tidbit from the Stockman, besides efficient ways to kill endangered prairie dogs–did you know how bull semen is collected? (NO, not like that!) With something called an “electro-ejaculator.” Yes, but do the bulls, um, can they, er, could we?!?
No, let’s not go there. Not yet.
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dude, the “but….” is obvious – even if you don’t have to help with the ranch work, you have to deal with the smell.
No, there wasn’t anything smelly. And the views were spectacular. But it’s an overpriced old adobe–no bathtub or closets–connected to a family compound. That’s so often the case in these parts, sadly. No privacy, in other words, and so not the place for us, even if the house had been workable.
The “ranch” aspects were actually very attractive. The house is a good one for another member of the extended family, perhaps, but not for strangers.