Reminiscing -- Tiger Meat -- North Dakota -- June 6, 2020

From a reader, minimally edited:

ND state highway 22 runs N/S thru Killdeer.  

Wetsch's Jack and Jill grocery store was on the east side of the first block as you came into town from the south.  

Tony Wetsch was the second generation to own that store. (He'd be in his 80's now.) It had three aisles - each wide enough for a small old cart.... one-way traffic. 

He had a great variety of groceries, considering the size.  There might only be one brand of a product - but he had it.  At Christmas he'd get in a barrel of fresh oysters so the Norskies could have oyster stew on Christmas Eve - he'd also get in bulk Greek olives.  Absolutely unheard of to just not open a can in those days.  Anyway - Tony was also quite a good butcher.  We'd fatten our own steer, but haul him into town and Tony would cut and wrap to a customer's specifications.  

Daddy said that if something didn't make good roast or steak, it'd make damned good hamburger.  So I'd never had flank steak or brisket until I left home.  Tony made Tiger Meat.  He had a special blend of spice and people trusted his meat unequivocally. 

Recently we were back in the area, met a few friends ... there wasn't going to be a meal -  heavy hor's d'ouevres. There was a platter of gorgeous shrimp and cocktail sauce.  That'd normally be the first thing to disappear at a party.  But, there had also been Tiger Meat from Wetsch's - and that was all eaten before the shrimp.  (;>)

So - we had Tiger Meat.  Contrary to the Mandan mix, there was no bell pepper in ours.

We have a great local meat market [where we live now].  They grow their own beef and grind their own hamburger.  I have a dear, old college friend.  If I have enough advance warning that he'll be in town, I'll go get a pound of freshly ground, lean hamburger and we'll have Tiger Meat instead of supper.  I still just use salt and pepper.  He adds Tabasco.  We both sprinkle on a little finely chopped onion and the pickled mustard seed.  A jar of that lasts me about 10 years - ha!

The Carmichael Mine Story -- July 18, 2019

So - here's a little info on the ranch sold for coal mining (see this post).

https://awttiqpi.com/uncategorized/moray-downs/

http://www.abc.net.au/local/stories/2012/02/16/3432708.htm

Sounds like the Actons still run cattle.  I'd invite them to an Angus bull sale in ND, but I imagine they need cattle "with a little ear".  That's slang for part Brahma.   Those long-earred cattle are resistant to ticks and other hot weather maladies.  (As it turns out from later info, they are crossbreeding into Angus!(;>)

So, now I need to figure out what "campdrafting" is

Changing of the guard at Millungera Station

Changing of the guard at Millungera Station Australian Cattle and Beef Holdings (ACBH) is looking for a new manager for Millungera Station at Julia Creek af...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Campdrafting

Oh - for crying out loud.  This is a 10 minute video - absolutely fascinating.  This family produces 100 Tons of beef a week!

Acton Super Beef

Acton Super Beef This video provides an overview of how the Acton Super Beef has establsihed a world wide reputation for quality ...

Graeme died in 2012.  What a story.  Started out in a tent!  Sold a gun to buy an engagement ring!

Graeme Acton

Graeme Acton Acton was born in Rockhampton, Queensland on 15 November 1950 to parents Thomas and Valma Acton. He grew up on ...

I'll spare you the eulogy, but in it, one of Graeme's sons said his dad had been lucky enough to draw a "Brigalow Block" - so here's a detour... homesteading in 1960!

NEW PIONEERS & A NEW WILD FRONTIER – THE BRIGALOW SCHEME

NEW PIONEERS & A NEW WILD FRONTIER – THE BRIGALOW SCHEME In 1976 I moved to Central Queensland to work with local Stock & Station Agent. Not many years before in the 1...

So  interesting to learn of the mine.  I knew there were some huge ranches in Australia, but this just boggles the mind.

Ode To A Burnaby Wetsuit -- July 17, 2019

Link here. 

 

Ode to a Burnaby Wetsuit

A Canadian with a wetsuit and a Country music vibe

Protests oil, climbs some trees and even takes a dive

He doesn't want a pipeline - not near his old home town

But pretty please, if he could, just use the right pronoun

He's anti oil, and anti pipe... God knows what anti cause

He'll protest this and protest that and break a bunch of laws

I'm pro oil and I'm pro pipe and love my modern stuff

I just can't stand bad grammar - enough's enough, enough!

And now it seems his wetsuit, the one he's shown in here

Is made of oil that he protests, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear

It doesn't have to make much sense, except just in his mind

But the grammar cops will whack him, thanks to this little rhyme

Caesar's wife, it's often said, must be above reproach

So, protest all you want, you fool, 

But get a grammar coach!

"An Ode On A Bakken Blog" With Apologies To John Keats

From a reader. Much appreciated. 

My French is nonexistant, abysmal at its best

Yo hablo Espanol, poquito, on behest

Can count to 12 in Norske, and consider that a shame

Lutefisk and lefse and an old Norwegian name

I read a lot of books, when ere I had the chance

Unbound imagination, the images did dance

Mom described my dreams, when talking to another

as vivid, realistic, akin to Technicolor

So, poetry's to blame for my early "big word" years

"Runcible" and "peripatetic" were music to my ears

Mom read "Owl and the Pussycat" ( "Silver Churn and magnet", too)

I knew those poems by heart, when I first went to school

Later years brought other words, in dribs and drabs and hanks

And it was after college, 'fore I filled in some blanks

Working years brought other words, of legal, banking sorts

A needlepointing hobby - taught me the great word "orts"

I've picked up "heretofore'" a legal term when shared

with "previously notwithstanding", subsequently paired

But, then, just like the Hillbillies, the Bakken bubbled over

And new terms came a'gusher - and like a hog in clover

There's new words, new terms, maps and charts, and acronyms galore

I found a blogspot quite by chance, those posts I do adore

Keeps me current on the DUC's, the fracs, the mergers, acquisitions

Kept me curious, then furious at DAPL's hippie exhibitions

But  even though it's oil news... it's truly that I follow

Another quirk has been unearthed, and like I hog I wallow

Vocabulary!  Brand new words! and terms unheard and more

The Internet my searching quest,  created by Al Gore

But led down paths before untook, and countless rabbit holes

Why "singerie" and "Carver's cabin" were never language goals

But like "penultimate", "puisne" and measuring gas's conundrums

It's kept me entertained, no room for having humdrums

So, thanks, for Bakken News - a NoDak loud ovation

Visit Big Sky Montana, and have a great vacation.

Alas, the pipelines won't be done, when you return a Texican

And if I find a new word, I'll just save it for the lexicon.

The Streets Of Dakota -- April 9, 2019 -- Ode To Gilbert's Cafe, Killdeer, ND

*******************************

The Streets Of Laredo

A reader's request ...

  The Streets of Laredo, Marty Robbins

From a reader:

To the tune of "Streets of Laredo"

Ode to Gilbert's Cafe

Killdeer, North Dakota

As I walked down the mean streets of Dakota

The cafe' was closed, and no one in town.

But donuts and coffee would save us at sunup

The farmers and merchants would gather around

A hot cup of coffee, with all the day's gossip

And, "What price for steers, sold by the pound ?"

No squinty Clint Eastwood, no "Good, Bad and Ugly"

Our heroes in ballcaps enduring abound.

The banker, the grocer, the feed store, grain merchant

Shake dice for the price with nary a frown

A morning day ritual, more coffee, you betcha

I'm out of the rhyme, I need a new noun

But surely as sunup, as plain as a donut

I remember those mornings in my little town.

Callous it wasn't, I've never felt safer

And right after dinner they shut the town down.

Saving America -- One SAV American Bull At A Tme-- February 15, 2019

This was posted yesterday, February 14, 2019:

No bull! North Dakota bull sells for $1.51 million. And that's just for an 80% interest. Story at Dickinson Press. 

• by-line: St. Anthony, ND
• seller: SAV America
• SAV: Schaff Angus Valley
• buyer: Herbster Angus Farms of Falls City, NE
• third year in a row that SAV has broken its own record for highest-selling bull
• last year was the previous record: $800,000
• prior to that: $750,000
• SAV: operated by fourth-generation Schaffs
• great-grandfather Schaff homesteaded the ranch south of Mandan, ND
• the $1.51 million bull -- 1,107 pounds at 205 days; most bulls don't approach that weight until they are yearlings (365 days for millennials)
• and, yes, a note will be sent to Occasional-Cortex if I can find her DC luxury apartment address 

Now, more from the reader who alerted me to that story.

First, more about the buyer and it's an incredible story, from the Omaha World-Herald, and look at the date: December 30, 2018. Just a couple of months ago.

The grandson: Charles W. Herbster.

Now, the epilogue. The reader pointed me to this story from ABC.net (an Australian source, so if you go to the link you will see prices in Australian dollars):

The chairman of Donald Trump's Agriculture and Rural Advisory Committee has paid $1.51 million for a one-year-old Angus bull at auction in North Dakota.

Charles W. Herbster, a Republican donor and businessman, is also a respected cattle producer and owner of Herbster Angus Farms in Falls City, Nebraska.

His was the successful bid on 'SAV America 8018' at the Schaff Angus Valley production sale held on its ranch outside Saint Anthony.

Will Bollum, a field editor for livestock publication Western Ag Reporter, was ringside to witness the moment in history.

See links for some incredible stories.

Something tells me these ranchers will not be happy about paying the "wealth tax" proposed by Ed Murkey, Occasional-Cortex, and others. They will also have to replace their diesel tractors with Teslas.

*************************************

An Ode To Sitting Bull and SAV America 8018

by a reader

A little black bull and famed Sitting Bull
raised in the wilds of Dakota

A top price to mull and a myth never dull
all from the wilds of Dakota

The bison herds roamed - they roamed far and roamed free
back in the wilds of Dakota

They fed and clothed many, a symbol of plenty in days of the wild old Dakota

But time changes all, hence summer comes fall
even in timeless Dakota

But do not lament, for all is not spent
even in bleak old Dakota

The winter wind's chill, then meadowlark's trill
when spring comes to warm up Dakota

If bird song can't fill you, then this may just thrill you
from bull sales now in Dakota

The biggest price ever, from hard work and clever
settlers in rough old Dakota

The same dear terrain, they brought wealth and some fame
to those stomping grounds of Dakota

Whether auctioneer's banter, or Sioux hunter's canter
all within earshot - Dakota

Will long tell the tale, stories won't fail
of bounty in great old Dakota

Sioux shooters sought meat, quivers sent shivers
through all of farflung Dakota

Still plenty good eating, thank Schaaf family breeding
our blest prairie home, my Dakota

Quoth the raven, evermore. 

Angels Dancing On A Head Of A Pin -- September 16, 2018

See this post for background.

A reader wrote in response:

Ode to Angels, Dancing on Pinheads

9/16/2018

A question oft-asked, but slightly in jest

posed angels on pin-heads, and here is the test:

How many can dance, how many per pin?

Most folks shake their heads, dismiss it and grin.

My mind wayward wanders - far, far, from home

and that sort of puzzle, like dog with a bone

Won't leave it to rest, won't leave it alone

So here's how my mind works with much " to and fro'n"....

How many angels are dancing you ask

Well it depends on the rules of the task

Is it polka or pow wow - they both take more room

Are haloes tucked inward, are roses in bloom?

A sleek silhouette is more compact by far

But if wings are unfurled  there's no room at the bar

"What?  Angel's drinking?  Irreverent answer!"

Well, then you can't be that much of a dancer

Grassy Butte polka, a West River wedding

a "chivaree", card party, or winter-night's sledding

Might not be much booze, but never not any

A wee dram of  "snake bite", and sometime plus plenty

Anyway, beverages, we'll take them for granted

The task must count angels. But also why can't it

depend on the type of the dance that they do?

Is it jitter-bug, jive, or the old boog-a-loo?

When twin fiddles start up  on "Cotton-Eyed Joe"

A dance floor in Texas is plumb-filled you know

"Beer barrel Polka" , by old German musicians

Packs wedding dance floors,  no admonitions

We've danced on tables of bars, dives and breweries

We've shed coats and checked hats, and taken off "jewelries"

We've hiked up our boot straps, and tucked in our pants

We've done everything possible gettin' ready to dance

But back to the counting, back to the answers

I still need more info 'fore tallying dancers

Is it grass dance or hoop dance, if there is a pow wow

And where does the drum go?  How many and how now

do we count the drummers, the back ups and smudgers

Do they get their own pins? And how about judgers?

For jingle dress dancers we sure have to plan

More room when the pretty girls all wave a fan

In addition to dance style, consider location

No line dancers, break dancers, in part of the nation

where I've danced, and, yes, even had me a beer once

So counting is prejudiced by my experience

A very few bikers, but surely not skinheads

Angelic dancers.  How many pinheads?

I'll count waltzers and shufflers and old 'Slide and gliders"

I'll count stag lines and bashful old bachelor "hiders"

I'll count angels aplenty, those angels galore

I'll total the quantity out on the floor

But, one thing perplexes me, one thing remains

I ask you quite honestly, racking my brains

If angels are like we, except for some sinning

Inevitably, then one will show up a 'grinning

He'll have his knees locked, his arms all akimbo

And suggest with a wry smile we all do the limbo

So, angels on pin heads I'll count, take a toll

But what in God's name, are the specs on the pole?

......................

Fair warning - 

If I can get "terpsichorean" in rhyme and meter, there may be another verse - ha!

*******************************

My response:

While an angel may dwell on terpsichorean,
A Bakken shalennial will buy a Delorean.

Buy a Delorean? You say! And again I digress!
Back to the angels and the pinheads they bless.