House of Glass
Showing posts with label Austine Etcheverry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Austine Etcheverry. Show all posts
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Friday, July 19, 2013
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
A Ranchers Life-Johnny
Johnny
My creators have asked me to share my life with you.
Ranching is in my blood. It’s all I know. I’ve been a rancher my whole life, and
the only thing that matters more then how much cattle you have is how you brand
them. It’s a busy time of year,
because you can’t possibly brand your cattle on your own. Instead, all the
neighbors get together and help out.
The
night before we brand, I can’t sleep.
Energy is running through my veins and I toss and turn waiting for the
anticipation of the day. The rest
of the house, those who are sleeping, will be woke up the next morning with pancakes,
eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy and strong black coffee. Breakfast has to be hearty to keep you going all
day long. The smell permeates your
nostrils telling you it’s time to get going.
Neighbors,
friends and family come poring in and nobody shows up late. If you do, you won’t
get any grub. The weather is
usually nice, so we generally sit outside to enjoy our breakfast. The ground is littered with patches of
snow at times. Hot coffee always steams up my dad’s glasses as he takes a drink.
After
breakfast the neighbor women and my mom work to clean up. It’s a tradition that no one argues today. Lucky to, because
lunch is always the most amazing chili, homemade with peppers, beef, red beans
and onions. There are some special
family ingredients but we aren’t allowed to share that.
Now
comes the exciting part. The
actually branding. My family’s
brand is the infinity signature, with a capital V for our last name. Each ranch has their own. The cows are moved into the branding
area. Everyone gets into
place. My dad is going to brand,
my nine year cousin is going to hold their tail so that they don’t move, our
closest neighbor Sammy will inoculate them and then Frank, another
neighbor up the road, will put the tags on. Putting a tag on a cow has been compared by others as
piercing a human’s ear.
This
is a day of blood, sweat, some tears and mud. Everyone is dirty by the end of the day. At one point in time a cow will rear up
and try to run out of the shoot.
Everyone yells chaotic instructions to try and keep him in, because no
one wants to have to chase him down.
However, extra family and neighbors are on horses close by, ready to
lasso them in case. When the day
is finished we eat dinner. An all
American dinner of hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, deviled eggs and home
made apple pie. A fire is started
and everyone will stay up late swapping laughs, memories and the good old
days. This is a time to remember
and for a young rancher, like me, well, it’s in my veins.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Mandy-Unbreakable Bonds
Mandy: Ice Cream Shop
My
co-authors have asked me to share a little about myself so you can get to know
me better. I’m not sure where to
start because I have never done anything like this before. When I asked them, they told me to
write what I know. So, here goes
nothing. My parents owned a little
ice cream shop in Shoshoni, Wyoming.
When they first opened it, I had no idea how famous it would be, but I
loved it from the get go and knew I would spend my life there.
The
most amazing thing about the ice cream shop was how great it always
smelled. Ice cream flavors by the
dozen mixed with the smell of different cones. From the moment I walked in the door my mouth would
water. My favorite time was when
you first opened a bucket to replace a new ice cream that had just been
finished. The flavors
swirled around in my head. I
wished sometimes I could mix several flavors together to make some exotic new
flavor, but Mom said to leave them alone.
The
feel of the shop was of a family, and when people came in they knew they were
among friends. There was a young
boy that used to come in every Monday and sit at the counter. He never had the correct amount of
money, but it didn’t matter. My
dad would serve him up a scoop of his favorite flavor, Vanilla. That boy would sit at that counter,
savoring every bite, licking the bowl clean when he finished. An unbreakable bond built over the
scoop of ice cream, no words needed.
Now,
that I’m no longer there, (longer story, which you can read about in, “Flight
from the Water Planet) I miss the ordinary routine of working in the
store. I miss wiping sticky
handprints of happy children off the tables and counters. It makes me sad not to hear the gossip
and local news of the people that would stop by to visit. I miss waffle cones, with a scoop of
butter pecan and walking down the street on a hot summer day, sucking on a
straw to get the smooth, thick chocolate shake from the cup to my waiting taste
buds. I thought my life would
always be in that little shop. I
figured I would carry on the vision of my parents, but instead I’m on a journey
takeing me far from the comforts of home.
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