This is our sky…full of dirt and wind and wind and dirt and dirt and wind…oh, yes I said that.
Here is the Roubidoux just the other day
Here is the Roubidoux now and yesterday. I think all of Utah has come in on the 40 m.p.h. gusts we have been having.
But enough of that! I wanted to relay to you a story told to me by a long-time blog follower- Mr. John North.
Here is what he had to say:
Speaking of long ago— you are so good in relaying history of your area and your family too, I am going to start a bit of that myself. Not a blog, but just “personally” to you.
My maternal great Grampa,Charlie, an original settler west of the White Mud River in Saskatchewan ( early 1900’s) told the following story to my father when he was a relatively young man and around the time my dad married his wife, Grampa Charlie’s daughter.
He was a rancher and at the time of the story I am about to relate, he was a widower.
One day he was out inspecting his cattle. (The pastures in Sask. are measured in Sections, they were that large. My cousins still do that. ) He was an excellent horseman till nearly the age of 90 and sat tall in the saddle, dad would tell.
Well, it so happens that Charlie needed to dismount and walk nearer some of his cattle. So intent was he on looking after the Mums that he failed to notice that a big bull walked between he and his mount. (I wish I could remember his horse’s name, but I can’t.) He heard the bull sound off and turned around to see him pawing the prairie. He could do nothing to save himself, running was a waste of breath. So he locked eyes. The bull charged him.
Great Grampa Charlie was pretty fearless as the one tonner closed in. At the last second he sidestepped the big fella. But back in that time the bulls had their horns. As he rushed on by with Charlie doing some quick footwork, he swung his head and hooked Grampa, laying open his stomach.
There was a grievous wound, as you can imagine. Being far “out there”, there was no possibility of medical help.
Period.
He held himself together, and somehow made it to his horse who hadn’t drifted too far. He finally got up in the saddle and rode slowly back to his house. It was not easy and it was not a short ride. The distance is lost on me and I can’t ask my dad because he has passed on. But by and by he made it home and slid off. He got into the house and came out with a needle and thread. He then found an old plank which he laid on a flat area. Then he laid on the plank, tucking his innards back in. As best he could he stitched himself back together.
I know there are other details, now forever lost, but Dad said that he returned to the house, recuperated and went back to work. Not sure how long it took but he was up and doing and didn’t look back.
This happened while he was an older man, I forget what age, and he went on to live many more years. It all seems incredible, but he did what he had to do.
I guess it was episodes like that that made him the man that he was, Dad loved the ‘ol guy and the the feeling was mutual. He was strong and he was kindly. He had grit and he had cattle savvy. And it seems he was a “Doctor” as well.
Your friend,
John
What’s a little wind and dirt in the air compared to this?
At some point in this week the wind will leave and the dirt will settle down upon the land adding new soil to the old. The clouds will reappear and the sun will rise and set with outstanding colors. Just like Mr. North’s Grampa we really need to do whatever it takes to ‘get ‘er done’, then move on.
Thank you, Mr. North for sharing with all of us this feat of ‘just making it through the day’!
Than you, Dear Readers for sharing your photos of rainbows, and birds and fun stories. I’m always interested in what you send me. If you don’t mind I would love to share them with all of those who have subscribed to my blog. Life is full of wonder every where we live.
Your friend,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 
Oh, wow, what an incredible story! Talk about tough. So glad you were able to share it. And thanks to Mr.North. So sorry about the wind and dust. That must be terrible.
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How spoiled we are today. It’s amazing how self-sufficient the earliest settlers had to be. Thanks for sharing John’s story.
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It always amazes me what life must have been like a hundred years ago and what it took to live through it. Simpler times, yet much harder.
I’ll remember this story, what an ordeal that man went through… Yet still managed to get things done. Amazing.
Thanks for sharing 🙂
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Great story. Well worth saving and sharing. Also well written. I’ve said often that if it isn’t written down and shared, in a few years it’s like it never happened.
Hope the rain we’re experiencing slides down to your side of the mountains and settles the dust.
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What an incredible story. Not sure if it was Jake’s grandfather, but he had a compound break in his femer. Got a cedar fence post strapped it on his leg with his shirt and rode home! Holy sheesh! Tough, tough, tough!
At least our drizzly rain set the dust down a little! But it’s COLD!
Cheri
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You have our dirt. Could not even see the mountains a couple miles away yesterday. The wind starts at 9:00am sharp and then quits at 10:00 pm. Like somebody turns a switch on and off. In the good old days, we did not have so many whiners like we do now. People, especially farm people, had common sense and did not run to the doctor when they got a pimple on their nose. They were tough and self sufficient. When you got kicked or hurt, you usually took care of it yourself….. Farmers are still the toughest nuts out there.
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That is quite a story your reader, Mr. North, shared.I hope quiet peaceful skies ae returning to your area.
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I have a rainbow I’d like to share – I’ll email it to you. And thank you for the story, it makes me feel childish about complaining when my arthritis is bad…
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Oh my … that story made my insides twist up!
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oh, my goodness! folks were so hardy! these days, someone gets a paper cut, and infection ensues, heads to their heart and almost kills them (i knew a lady that almost died from a paper cut). anyway… wow!
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Yup, I’d be dead. In the dirt. Sliced AND trampled. That is a real cowboy right there, bless him. Are you and Terry able to get anything done in the fields with these winds?
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I’m so interested to hear that the wind brings in more soil. I hope it’s good soil. The story from Mr North is amazing – how tough those pioneers were.
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When i long for the simple times of the past I usually forget the hardships that our pioneer ancestors faced. What an amazing story, but I have heard stories like this before and always feel like the wuss generation.
Hope your wind and dust clear up, but aren’t you getting some good topsoil blown in from Utah? 🙂
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What a story! I had no idea that the wind brings in new soil when the dust and dirt settle on the ground.
Your photos are just to die for. Thank Mr North again for the wonderful story.
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Something like Doc Sholes and the Lewis & Clark fellows. Talk about tough and you’re correct about the wind and dirt.
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Cool story!
I dislike that constant whipping up of the wind. The dirt in the air gets in everything/everyplace, including your teeth and eyes. Hope it lays down soon for you!
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Wow, what a story Mr. North shared with you and you with us…thank you! It was do or die back then, wasn’t it?! And no antibiotics then either.
Still have the wind here, too. At least it helps to keep the mosquitoes off when it’s so gusty. No dust blowing yesterday, but very hot and humid. Hope your wind does die down soon.
Blessings!
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What a great story:)
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