I went up to the ranch on my own last week for several days, to get away from the tedious routine here at the house in Fort Collins, to help Mona set up a new computer and transfer her old data, and to enjoy her cooking and her and Clark's company. Hilda watered a few things for me during the hot spell that would have wilted things until I got home.


Some nice squash plants spill out of one of a bunch of raised beds and garden areas tuck away around the house.

I thought Mona's garden would be struggling, since she got things in a little late this year and had some less-than favorable conditions (including genuine golf-ball size hail a while back). But everything looked as robust and happy as I ever remember seeing, and we enjoyed some of it while I was there, and brought home some nice kale too, along with a dozen and a half eggs.


Her abundant and diverse flowers were no less dazzling this year.





One of the new calves this year was born with some sort of defect or injury to his front legs. His front feet, especially the right, kind of fold under at the first joint, so it's sorta like he's walking on the back of his wrists. Mona fashioned a sort of brace for him and got it strapped on, and he got around on that a little better. They're hoping he will develop adequately to enjoy life with the herd - until market time.

We went into town one afternoon, and did a bunch of errands that covered one end of Wheatland to the other. Couple of banks, kidney dialysis thriftstore, the Rural Electric office, Food Pride and Safeway, Drube Supply hardware, and a cafe for a little lunch and visit with the owner.


This odd igloo sorta hut is for sale, just across the interstate from downtown, is for sale. Mona says it used to house the local Wyoming DMV.



The flies aren't bad this year so far at the ranch, but in town they seem to be a little more of a problem. I noticed when Mona and I stopped into to one of the nicer cafes in town that the serving staff mostly wielded fly swatters, along with some of the customers, who seemed pleased to take time out from their meals to whack the occasional buzzing intruder. Mona assured me that this was standard practice at other equally respectable dining establishments in town. Lotta feed lots in the area.



The day I had to return to Colorado, I went back into town to visit the Wheatland airport out on Antelope Gap Road by the Platte County fairgorounds to visit with an acquaintance on Mona's who she said had some airplanes in a hanger. He did indeed have a bunch of airplanes - and parts of airplanes - scattered about. We sat and chatted for quite a while, and after hearing the call of an arriving Cessna Conquest we watched him enter the pattern, pand, and taxi up right next to us. A beautiful aircraft, owned by a local rancher who had been off to Tucumcare, New Mexico for the day to look after some business there.

It wasn't until after I had returned home that I really began to get nostalgic for the days when I flew comparable airplanes through gorgeous skies, into little out of the way places like Wheatland. I regretted not asking the rancher if he might consider taking me along on one of his day trips in the future - it would be well worth the drive up and back for it. I even fantasized about him wanting me to get current again and back him up on his flights into bad weather or busier destinations - maybe even take care of the airplane and hanger. As I thought of this, I reflected ruefully on my appearance that afternoon - sandles with white socks, shorts, my cloth safari hat - not standard Wyoming garb (jeans, boots, western shirt, western hat).



I resolved to find out how to contact him soon anyway, probably by phone, and try to snag at least one ride. Not much to lose by asking.

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