We are scheduled to ship steers to Nevada to our summer range later this week. In preparation, the cowboys spent yesterday processing steers. Each steer needed a booster shot and a fly tag.

(How do you like the fancy table we have at our chute? Empty 50 gallon drums come in very handy around here. We much prefer if they are rusty in places and covered in mud or manure, as it adds to the ambiance of processing.)

Processing is a fairly quick job. These steers are waiting their turn to walk down the alley and into the chute. Our goal is to make the entire process as calm as possible. Things go much more smoothly if the steers are calm.

Each steer is in the chute for just a few seconds. Long enough for my husband and Andy to give the steer a booster shot and put a fly tag in his ear. Then the steer is released and trots into the pen with the rest of the steers.

While the cowboys were busy with the steers, I was busy chasing around the three-year old. Or rather, defending myself from a certain three-year old.

Our cowboys are always so nice to my son, they talk with him and play with him and give him things to play with. Things like sorting flags and ear taggers, which my son brandishes with glee.

After several minutes of protecting myself from unintentional blows from the sorting flag, I finally had to implement a new rule:

“Please do not arm the three-year old!”

The cowboys just laughed. For some reason, I’m a little nervous about what they are going to hand over to my three-year old next.

Thanks for the great name suggestions! The kids slowly, and quite democratically, worked their way through the list of names. There was a fair amount of lobbying the three-year old, I believe there were even a few bribes offered in exchange for his vote. A couple of times there was a demand for a re-count, but in the end they finally, finally, selected a winner.

This filly now has a name: Rusty

The winner of the Cuisinart Grill Set is Amie! Congratulations Amie!

Thank you to everyone who entered the contest. My family and I enjoyed going through all of the entires.

Remember these little cuties? I can’t believe how much they have changed in the past couple of months. Changing color, getting bigger and gaining a little confidence. The little blue roan belongs to my oldest son and he has named her Twink.

The red roan filly, however, does not have a name. We have bounced around a few ideas, but nothing seems to fit her. There is no way I am letting my husband make this decision alone! (The last time he was given this responsibility he named the horse Toad. I kid you not.)

Will you help me out? Leave your suggested name(s) in the comments on this post and I will let my kids choose the winning name. To thank you for your help, the winner will receive this Cuisinart 10-piece Grilling Set:

In addition, the Idaho Beef Council will arrange to have six steaks delivered to your home! A great way to kick off the grilling season!

Leave your comment by noon on April 13th to be eligible for this Grilling Package. Winner announced shortly after my kids get home from school and select the winning entry.

Can someone please explain to me why my kids balk at the request to unload the dishwasher, but when faced with unloading a ton of grain from their Dad’s pick-up they dive right in? Each and every one of them!

My two older boys are both signed up for 4-H this year, which means we have a total of five 4-H steers to feed and water each day. That translates to a lot of grain over the coming months. I wonder how excited the kids will be to unload grain in July and August? I have a feeling that will quickly become a Mom or Dad chore.

Check out my daughter’s hat. Fancy, no? It’s one of my husband’s old, retired work hats and the kids dearly love it. I have seen them argue to the point of tears over who gets to wear that dirty, smelly hat. (For the record, Mom’s old smelly hats do not garner as much attention.)

There must be something magical about Dads. They have the best hats, they know how to con four kids into unloading their pick-up, and going to work with Dad is the ultimate reward. If only I could convince him to use his magical powers on a few other chores: cooking, dishes, cleaning pens…

On second thought, I’m not sure there is enough magic in that hat to convince the kids, let alone my husband, to tackle the avalanche of laundry spilling out the kids’ rooms. Only Mom is tough enough (and brave enough) to get that job done!