H. Alan Day's Blog, page 5

Horses

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Horses

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Horses

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Horses

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Alan

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Mustang Meadows

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Farm

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A Quirky Cowboy Boots Custom

When I went to visit the South Dakota ranch this summer, I saw these cowboy boots on this sign. It’s not the first time I’ve seen boots like this. Maybe the mystery of how and why these boots got here will be explained to me someday. Maybe you know??

 

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The Watermelon Thieves

By H. Alan Day

It was one of those hot and unusually humid Arizona summer days on the Lazy B ranch, the kind where you feel like a baked bean. I was playing camp director to seven kids – my two plus four nephews and a niece. The crew sat sweating in the shade and I could tell trouble and whines were about to erupt if I didn’t cough up some entertainment.

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” I said. “How’d you like to go down near the Gila River, steal a few watermelons, and go eat them under the cottonwoods?”

The horses in the corral turned their heads at the unison scream.

Everyone loaded in the pickup and we bounced twenty minutes over ranch road to the watermelon patch. I had rented out twenty acres to Andy Cromwell who had planted watermelons. Any time you want some, he said, come grab some.

I pulled up at the far end of the field. Healthy green globes spread before us.

“All right, here’s the deal,” I said before the letting the kids out of the back. “The farmer who owns this field is a real mean guy. Rumor has it he loads his gun with salt and if he sees you stealing watermelons, he’ll shoot you.” Seven sets of eyebrows arched. “So we have to be quiet and quick out there. When you find your watermelons, run on back here.”

With much anticipation, the gang of thieves crept low out onto the field of melons. All the kids could heft one watermelon under each arm, except for Jay. At six-years-old, he was the youngest and could only manage one. I made sure everyone had their melons and then pointed to the truck. We started the return trek juggling the fruit and giggling. I turned around to make sure everyone was in tow. Jay held up the rear. He was a pudgy little thing and the one melon he carried looked to be half his size.

We arrived back and set down our heavy load. Except for Jay. He was still a good fifty feet away, lugging his melon.

Being the loving uncle, I started shouting encouragement. “Come on, Jay. Hurry! I see the farmer coming and he’s likely to shoot you. So hurry. Run fast.”

Jay started to run. As he did, his pants fell down around his knees, hobbling him. He couldn’t pull his pants up without putting down the watermelon and he couldn’t run holding the watermelon.

The other kids, quick to catch on, offered their support.

“Here he comes, Jay.”

“Get outta there. Fast!”

Jay waddled a few steps forward.

“Just keep running, Jay.”

“You can do it.”

Suddenly Jay stopped. A distinct change came over him. It was as if he concluded: If I’m caught, I’m caught. I can’t do a thing about it. He carefully set down the watermelon, pulled up his pants, and secured them. Then he picked up the bulbous fruit, settled it in his arms and with great dignity, walked over to the fence where the rest of us were howling with laughter.

We carted the melons to the cottonwoods by the river. I fessed up about the farmer, and we laughed some more while sweet, pink juice dripped down our chins.

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Giveaway of NY Times Bestselling Lazy B

Hey there!

Welcome to this acreage of the blogosphere. It’s a place for stories and talk about ranch horses, wild mustangs, cowboying, Arizona, the West, western writing, books and probably more, but how about those for a start?

To launch this start, I thought a raffle might be in order. Back in 2002, my big sister Sandra and I co-authored the memoir Lazy B about growing up on our 196,000-acre family ranch straddling Arizona and New Mexico. My immediate family consisted of my parents, Harry and Ada May Day, who we called DA and MO, my sisters Sandra and Ann, and me. Then there was the extended family – the lifelong cowboys who lived on the ranch with us. Jim Brister, Rastus, Claude Tippets, Bug Quinn. They taught us many lessons about horses and cowboying, but also about life. All of these people who we loved appear in Lazy B, as does the high desert land we called home.

The raffle is for a copy of Lazy B signed by the authors Sandra Day O’Connor and H. Alan Day. It will run from today through Tuesday, September 3. You can sign up here:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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