Crow Cattle Company

05/26/2026

Summer Schedule

I have decided that for the summer, I will be focusing on quantity of posts rather than quality. I know, I know. This is, in many things, not the best way to approach a project or a task, but I think of this rather as making a valiant attempt to make up for posts I haven’t done, exercise some daily writing, and to jog my memory of even the most remotely of interesting things.

First of all, I should update you all on the horse trading. This is a tricky business. Like in most things, even the simplest of deals is subject to perceptions, expectations, and schedules. In horse trading, these tend to be magnified and you can also add on top of these things, weather, equipment, and the temperament of the animals themselves. In short, the deal that we had worked, trading a horse for some training of another horse, fell through. I don’t really consider it anyone’s fault, just all of these factors came into play and slowly eroded the deal. Hopefully, other trades will be available in the future.

Like in all things, a believer should look at any disappointed expectation and seek the good that God will accomplish through it. Many times, we don’t get to see that good, but in this case, I might have one picked out. As long as I have these horses haltered and close to the house, I will be working on them regularly, at least a couple of times a week and probably more during the summer. We’ve already been messing with them quite a bit. I am making no claims to being a Bonafide horse trainer, but experimentation, YouTube videos, and reading are all contributing to me at least having some kind of plan. Admittedly, this is taking forever, but as I learn, I hope to get more efficient. The goal is to do as much as I can with a horse, while looking for an opportunity for someone to come in and do the dangerous part.

I’ve made some progress. I dare say that I am learning more than Lando is, but hopefully that will change as time goes on. I will keep you posted.

Blessings,
Jason

05/25/2026

Happy Memorial Day

I am learning that this is not the proper greeting for Memorial Day. Either it never was, or it is now recommended to say something like, “Have a safe and reflective Memorial Day” or “Have a meaningful Memorial Day.” I’m sorry, but these greetings just don’t land well on my ear. I appreciate the sentiment, but it reminds me of the kind of things that the phone help people are supposed to say at the end of their call. You know, those things that waste your time and are supposed to defuse your irritation at having to call in in the first place, “I hope that I have been able to adequately meet your felt needs regarding your internet service today.”

Maybe I would feel differently if I had lost an immediate member of my family, and maybe I am just old-fashioned and simple, but wishing someone happiness on a day of remembrance is not, as I read on the internet, the same thing as wishing someone a “happy funeral.” Memorializing someone is not the same thing as burying them again. I am not saying there should not be a degree of or a portion of this day that is not solemn, it should most definitely be that, but should we commit to a day of moroseness?

Yesterday, I taught a Sunday School lesson on, and later partook in the Lord’s Supper. In class, I was reminded of the similarity between these two events. Christ asked us to take bread and wine and to do it in remembrance of Him; and not just of Him, but specifically of the sacrifice that He made. Both events, Memorial Day and the Lord’s Supper, commemorate laying down one’s life to the point of death. I have written before about how the death of any serviceman or woman in the line of duty reminds us of the cross. “Laying down one’s life for one’s friends” is what Jesus called the greatest love. The serviceperson you know that gave up their life to the enemy and Jesus giving up all to be crucified both illustrate this, although for different purposes and to much different degrees.

The first Passover meal was eaten standing up, with staff in hand, and belt tied around the waist. It was eaten by people ready to go. By the time Jesus celebrated this meal and instituted His supper, it was eaten reclining in the Roman fashion, not as slaves, but as free men and women. Jesus could have said, “Take this lamb, sacrificed for you. This is my body,” but He didn’t. He used the bread. Why? Because the sacrifice was no longer necessary. The principal at work here is clear. Passover happened so the Jews could be free. The Lamb of God was offered so we could be free. Our response to this should be one of joy and solemnity. Just like the Jews ate as free people, enjoying fellowship, food, and solemn ceremony, so should we celebrate the Lord’s Supper with extreme joy, in a worthy manner. We should not be flippant or cavalier about our happiness, nor should we be mired in misery for the suffering that Christ endured on our behalf. We are called to joy and remembrance in the same breath.

It is because of this that I feel the same way about this day. The American Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine and Guardsman that gave their lives in defense of our nation are lost to us. Their sacrifice, even if the cause be at times debatable, remind us that our blessings in this country cost greatly. Remember that and then enjoy those blessings to the fullest. Eat your barbecue. Go to your sales. Fellowship with friends and family. Have a great and happy day, but also, leave an extra empty chair at the table. Pour out a sip of your drink on the ground. Don’t waste the blessings that come from the sacrifice and don’t forget where they came from.

Happy Memorial Day.

Blessings,
Jason

05/21/2026

Welcome, Summer!

Well, it's been awhile. The end of the school year has this effect on me, but I hope to do very regular updates for the summer. Feel free to nag me on this!

Calves and c**ts are dropping so for this evening, I will simply post a picture. This little rascal is a c**t, or as my Granddad used to call them a "horse-c**t." For some reason all foals were c**ts and he would make the distinction like that. I don't know what he had against the word, "filly." Anyway, he has a little cousin that almost has the same birthday. I think she will be a bay and I will try to get a good picture of her posted as well.

Tomorrow, I hope to be back in the pens with Lando and Boone, learning how to train as they hopefully learn how to horse.

Blessings,
Jason

04/15/2026

Change and Other Curses

Now I know I am going to sound really cliché here and also probably somewhat old, but I have a problem with change. However, I will qualify what I am saying before you judge me too completely and quickly. I understand change in general. My body is creakier than it used to be, but I think that in some ways I am a bit wiser than I once was. I can accept that. I know that people come in and out of one’s life. They move on or you move. I can accept that. People die. I even accept that, although it pains us because we were not created for death. Pets come and go. Jobs change. The Oxford comma becomes optional. All of that is normal. It’s not always fun, but it’s expected.

The change I am talking about is the “improvements” made in life that are seemingly made simply because they can be made, not because they will actually improve anything. Or, they improve one thing, but make five things worse. Software people are the worst about this. You’ve all been there. One day, you open up your phone or computer and “updates” have happened. Things don’t work the way they used to. When was this YouTube video first released? I will tell you, but you have to hit the secret button that you didn’t have to hit before. When did hyperlinks no longer require blue lettering? I have spent valued minutes searching for a link to something and had to be shown to just click on this word and there it is. How was I supposed to know that? Does everything have to be automated? Do I no longer get to choose the word I type in the text box? Why does the word “talk” always show up as a dang parrot that I have to go back and delete twice before the world “talk” actually appears?

Okay, I get it. I’m not a youngster anymore. When my Mom or Dad ask me about how to do some tech thing, I have to tell them I am no longer the guy to ask. I guess my capacity for ranting about things like this has also changed, but there’s one I noticed the other day that may have been messing me up for years and I never even realized it.

For generations, and I really mean that, we have been stringing the top wire on a fence about shirt pocket high, then counting down 5 notches on the t-post, and clipping the next wire. We do this three times and on the bottom wire, we go 4 notches down. That is until the other day when I noticed this didn’t look quite right. The bottom wire seemed a little too high. So, I pulled out the trusty fencing tool (which can also be used as a measure, going from the top to the inner most part of the curve on the handle) and checked an old t-post against a new one. Yep. Change. For some reason t-posts now have their notches closer together. Is there nothing sacred in this world? Is there no respect for the old ways? Shouldn’t some public service announcement be made over the air raid PA system? Was I issued a “green and white” alert text on my phone, but somehow my notifications changed automatically?

To make matters even more bizarre, I pulled some clips out of a bag we had just bought. This deserves explanation as well. I don’t know how we did it, but I guess we have reclipped enough old posts to run shy of the clips that are issued at TSC when buying posts. Anyway, the clips are symmetrical. I know, right?! I stared at this thing for awhile. Both ends were the same. The short hard bend that sticks to the wire on its own while you twist the long end around the wire was identical to the long end without the hard bend. A fluke, right? Nope. The whole bag is like that, every newly designed one. I don’t know what the fence post clip people are saving by retooling their factories, but this clip takes three hands to do easily.

All right, I guess I’ve complained enough and I hope my rant was amusing, as was my intent, but I will say that as I was typing this final paragraph, I brushed some key or combination of keys and my computer started reading my text to me out loud. I think that probably says it all and I should go to bed.

Blessings,
Jason

04/01/2026

Seeing Stars

I’ve made no secret about the fact that fence repair, especially in the deep and thick woods is not my favorite part of ranching. In fact, if there were an alternate form of livestock barrier that could be used I would be on top of it. I’ve considered hedges, 12’ picket fences (to drown out highway noise), iron pipe, deadly laser beams and force fields. None of which are affordable, practical, or exist in the real world. Alternatively, since we are dreaming, I would like a five-wire fence with t-posts every 6-8’ and a good wire stay in the middle. This fence would also have a 10’ mow path on either side and not be connected to any trees, but have good sturdy h-braces every ¼ mile.

All of these things will not make a good perimeter fence invincible, but it will make it easier to manage problems once they occur. Trees will still fall, hogs and deer will still bust the bottom or top wire respectively, but just to be able to drive all the wire, posts, and supplies to the problem spot would be a big help.
Amongst the tools and supplies that we have to sometimes walk to fix fence, are two different post drivers. One of these is the pretty standard thin piece of pipe with two handles. It also actually has a spring in the middle of it. I’m guessing at the weight, but maybe it weighs ten pounds. When there is some fence work that needs some posts driven and that is in the deep woods inaccessible by vehicle, then this is now the post driver that I take. However, my preferred weapon for driving posts is the device you see pictured. I think my grandfather or great-grandfather had it made in the fires of Mount Doom. It is legendary. It is unlike any post driver that I have ever seen at Tractor Supply. Clearly, it was designed to drive wooden cedar posts. It’s diameter is probably in excess of 4 inches, it weighs at least twice what the other one does with its bizarre spring system. It is a bear to carry very far, but unless the ground is exceptionally hard, it will drive any post quicker than you can say “heavy metal.” Only the toughest of tree roots will slow it down to more than ten hits. After a good rain, I can set a t-post by putting the driver on the post, picking it up, and dropping it twice.

But, man is it heavy. Carrying this thing with a couple of t-posts is taxing to say the least. It is also probably an OSHA nightmare, as I learned one day working fence with Dad probably thirty years ago.
We were in the deep woods. We had been in the week before and it was about 89 degrees. The two of us had a brief conversation that day about just how critical those next ten degrees were. I mean, it was already pretty hot that day, how much hotter could it get? The next week we found out. It was 98. The humidity was brutal, the mosquitoes were out and we had to go work that fence. All that said, we were managing pretty well, until my half-inch error. Dad was holding a post for me, leaning it over so I could pick up the monster driver and slip it over the top. Except for the fact that I didn’t. The edge of that great mouth clipped the edge of the post and all the force that I was bringing down on the post with the closed end hit the open lip. The driver just kind of folded down and right onto my head.

I can almost hear it today, the phrase “rung his bell” comes to mind. I dropped the driver and commenced to staggering around, Dad coming to ease me to the ground. Do you remember the old Looney Tunes? Whenever anyone got hit on the head, there were stars that started circling the poor victim’s head? I used to think that was just silly animation, but nope. That thing is sure enough real. Stars were passing around my head. I didn’t pass plumb out, but it’s as close to a KO that I’ve ever come.

That was it for the day. Once I somewhat recovered, we started schlepping out all our tools. Did we get everything? Driver? Fencing Tool? Massive headache? Okay, good. Sick with worry and heat, just imagining that dull thud and ringing tone, Dad himself got a little light-headed on the way out, but we made it.

A friend of Grandmother and Granddad’s who was a nurse happened to be visiting and he checked me out to see if there was any real damage once I got back to the house. That afternoon, I had to go into town to meet my cousins for a birthday party at the Icehouse restaurant. I’d already had put ice on my head, so that seemed appropriate. I know there are pictures of me with a 8’ by 2’ mark running up the side of my forehead. I had to give some explanations to people.

I still use that driver. It is still much better than the spring-loaded weirdness, but believe me when I tell you that every time I slip that driver over a post, I can’t help but think about folding that 20 pound piece of iron around my noggin.

Blessings,
Jason

03/30/2026

Getting in a Rut, Part II

There is a philosophy, a somewhat cynical one, that says that whenever you talk about or study a particular lesson that God will then engineer a circumstance for you to be tested in that area. For instance, Anna and I like to warn each other when we decide to read or study the book of Job, because this seems to sometimes bring on some trials. Now, I don’t know if it’s related to the last post I made here or not, but we’ve had a couple of setbacks in some things that have been a bit discouraging and I find myself thinking about making new ruts. Or rather, I find that the good ruts that I thought I had I may not quite have had.

I think about God testing Abraham with the sacrifice of Isaac. When I give a test to a student, I usually have a general idea of how well that student will do, but I don’t know for certain. I give the test, grade the performance, and discover just how well that student has been applying himself. On the other hand, when God tested Abraham, or when He tests us, He knows precisely how we are going to do. There is no need for Him to assess us in our spiritual growth or maturity. That is not a mystery to Him at all. The only other possible reason for Him to test us is so that we ourselves will learn where we are. This is usually a little disappointing, because we are rarely where we aspire to be, but if we look carefully and compare to how we may have done the last time we had a similar trial, then we might learn that we are improving.

Such is the case with us. I offered some public advice on how to deal with setbacks and difficulties. God read my post and must have said, “Good word, my son. Let’s see how you do.” Frankly, I wasn’t too pleased at first, but when considering how I might have done in the same circumstance a few years ago or more, I see that God has brought me a fair way. Even so, I’m still not totally satisfied. I still want to make those ruts such that I allow myself to be sad, disappointed, etc., but do not fall into saying things about my situation that aren’t true or to forget the bounty bestowed upon us by gracious Providence.

Blessings,
Jason

03/23/2026

Getting in a Rut

In the little patch of forest that we call Bobcat Woods, there lies a path that we used to use to drive our trucks and gators down in order to get to the big field. It starts at the culvert bridge over the gulley so we simply call it the Culvert Bridge Road. We used to use a tractor on this path to carry hay, but discovered that it was tearing the road up pretty badly. So, we created an alternate and parallel path to the Culvert Road. This made some serious ruts, but with the 4-wheel drive tractor we had it wasn’t a real problem. What the issue was is that once you got in those ruts, you were committed. The only way out was through. We have a similar situation in our Hay Storage area. The ruts in there can be particularly exasperating because it makes it really difficult to line up your fork or spear on a roll of hay when the ruts are steering the tractor.

Now, I might easily talk about the hazards of getting in a rut. (Yes, I am going to get metaphorical and spiritual here.) However, I’m going to go in a different direction. The fact of it was that when I was driving down the tractor path next to the Culvert Road, once I got into those ruts and I was going to the Savanna, I just let go of the steering wheel and the tractor took me where I wanted to go. It was easy, it was nice and it was kind of fun to have an autopilot.

Today, those ruts are all but gone. They have filled in and we cross them in the truck whenever we need to. They no longer dictate where we go. To change the course of a rut, it sometimes takes years and it will often take shovels and tools or at least a tractor with deeper tread and some good steering. If you break down the wall of a rut and start a new path, that one will become the new rut and the old one will go away. So, what’s the metaphor in all this?

Our minds, literally our brains, create neural pathways that carry electrical signals to and from our sensory organs. They are highly plastic and shapeable. Our brain receives input from our surroundings, and then routes the information to a different part of the brain which often creates an emotional and/or intellectual response. Here’s an example.

We have spent a lot of time and money on the Diesel truck that we bought a couple of years ago. It has been one disaster after another, so whenever we hear any kind of noise or something isn’t right, the neural pathway that has been created leads to the center of the brain that creates a very discouraged emotional response. We immediately fell like the noise means thousands of dollars, but we are to the point now where it doesn’t always lead to thousands of dollars. Our brains are slowly being retrained to consider the possibility that the check engine light might not mean a new short block or new transmission.

I am not making the illustration that getting into a rut is bad, which is sometimes used to justify irresponsibility based on just being bored with life. I am saying that if our inputs dictate our emotions to negativity, that we have the power to, over time, create a new neural pathway, a new rut. This new rut can keep you in the path of righteousness.

What rut are you in? Is it a good one or a bad one? Does your rut take you into bitterness or thanksgiving? Does it take you into complaint or prayer? When something out of your control occurs do you go to the fridge and grab food or do you go to the Word? Making new ruts for your life can be really hard sometimes, but it sure is nice to be able to let go of the steering wheel with confidence knowing that you are going to the right place.

Blessings,
Jason

03/11/2026

I haven't talked about this yet on any kind of social media, but a couple of weeks ago, my old runnin' buddy and 1st cousin went to be with the Lord. In his honor, I simply want to repost a story I wrote that was inspired by some of our old adventures along with a few words that I had an honor to deliver at his funeral. I am posting all this on this page simply because Nathan was a big part of this little spread in Southeast Texas and it was a big part of him.

Enjoy yourself, cuz. We'll miss you until we get to see you again.

You have already heard/will soon hear about Nathan as the loving husband, the dedicated father, the hard-working and brilliant engineer. You know that he was a steady family man and a devoted disciple of the Lord, and these are the most important things, but I want to take a couple of minutes to let you know about the Nathan that I knew and grew up with.

You should know that the pictures you see of him riding a horse are not just him on some trail ride at a tourist stop. Neither are they pictures of him riding an old nag at the grandparents’ farm, just so he could “have the experience.” No, sir. Nathan was a cowboy. This is even more impressive because at one point in our teenage lives he confessed to me that he didn’t really like cows and they kind of scared him. He could have fooled me, because he never shrank away from doing what needed to be done when it came to handling them. He could rope them, although Granddad usually would have one in a noose before we got the chance. He could wrassle ‘em right down to the ground. Even the last time we worked cows together just a few years ago. Despite the fact that he couldn’t move very fast, he was an enormous help just knowing where to be and how to work them. I remember when we were trying to push them through the gate, he told them, “Now, whatever you do, don’t go through there,” and in they went.
I couldn’t even tell you how many times me, him, Granddad, Dad, Wally, and Shannon or some combination of that group struck out into thick woods and spent half the day just trying to find cows and the rest of the day just trying to drive them back. Dad tells a story about a time when he and Nathan were trying to get ahead of a bunch of wild running cows. Dad got into a mess of thicket and before he could get untangled from it, Nathan blew by him like he was painted on a tree.

Nathan was also my fellow adventurer. When we were really young, he saw a documentary on stuntmen. I’m sure our moms wished this had never happened, but the next time he saw me he was instructing me on how to fall, how to jump from a height, and how movie fights were conducted. I can say without a doubt that this show changed our lives. Rooves, trees and treehouses, all took on new significance. A particular favorite of ours was jumping from the top of the old silver stock trailer into the back of the truck filled with farm tools. “Now look, if you can get your right foot between the axe and the roll of barbed wire and your left foot squared up on that cedar post, you’ll be fine!”

The release of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" didn’t help this phenomenon much. We had already learned a little bit about whips from Granndad, but after learning that whips could fight n***s as well as drive cows, we were hooked. Nathan was really good at this. I had a little 6’ stock whip, but he could really master the big one, it must have been 8 or 10 feet. It was also about this time that we started really pouring some creativity into choreographed fights. We can blame the stuntman documentary again for this. Nathan had learned that by positioning yourself correctly to the audience, you can make it look like you’re hitting someone when you’re not. We probably did a fight like this once a year, frequently performing them for our folks, oftentimes, with Shannon as the source of contention. Naturally, the more we did it, the more exotic weapons started to appear. With our jackets on backwards, towels around our necks, and laboratory protective goggles, we pulled out Uncle Gary’s old fencing sabers and had swordfights. We used sticks, whips, swords, and archaic insults. He always liked to play the bad guy because he got to win until the very end. We had planned one of these fights over the phone that involved hay hooks. It’s probably better that we never got around to that one.
We did spend a lot of time on the phone. Where we could not get physical adventure, we created fictional ones. The living room at his house in Creedmoor could easily be converted into the bridge of the Enterprise. The sophistication of these stories grew from a reproduction of King Kong we did when were really young where a couple of chairs laying down covered in dark sweaters stood in for the hand of the great ape holding the young damsel (Shannon again) with Ethan playing Pappy Boyington, because that’s what he did, to stories we made up that actually had girls in them to an 11,000 word science fiction short story about cloning famous people that has been rejected by one of the most respected sci-fi magazines of our day!

I will always remember the late nights sleeping in the same bed at Grandmother and Granndad’s. The singing sessions of Weird Al Yankovic and the Kingston Trio (we had the best rendition of Bad Man’s Blunder), playing Christmas music, reading Shakespeare out loud and the laughing. No one could laugh like him. ROTFLOL may be just a thing you type on a text to you, but to anyone that spent a weekend with Nathan, you know that’s a real thing.
In summary, here are some lessons I learned from or had reinforced by my cousin.

The hymn we sang earlier, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded”

That it didn’t matter what people thought of you, don’t be bound by any particular click or group

That TV was fine, but reading was better

How to take a fall

When to jump and when not to

That Han Solo was cooler than Luke Skywalker

That Shakespeare done right was worth watching and is always worth reading

What it looked like to love the Lord your God with all your mind

Thank you, Lord for letting Nathan be a part of my life. He was one to ride the trail with, the best brother a cousin could have.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHm7KkrW6hA&t=69s

03/05/2026

It's been awhile so I thought I would drop a brief post. Apparently, we skipped that nice time of year when it hovered in the 70's and we are now in the 80's during the day. But, the nights are cool, the days are pretty comfortable, and the ground is dry. I will enjoy all of that while I can.

We put out what I believe will be the last roll of hay for the year. There was some out and they whittled away at it, so we figured to leave at least one more. All in all though, the cows are out eating fresh grass.

It's always nice to finish a year and have a little bit of hay leftover. We'll switch the tractor over to brush hog configuration and begin the fight against the tallow trees.

Blessings,
Jason

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02/19/2026

Horse Breaking…Stuff

I’ve been spending a little bit of the afternoons afterwork in gentling up the two target horses, Lando and Boone. The day before yesterday, we fed them out of a bucket. Yesterday, I moved them into the Calf Patch so we can start feeding them in the pens. That was way more of a rodeo than I wanted. Well, “rodeo” might not be the right word. It was way more of me walking back and forth in the Calf Patch trying to get the weaning calves back into the Gentle Pasture when they were convinced that all of the food in the world was still in the pens. Eventually, I got them to go and they have been happy there.

Today, I opened up the pens and got Tyree and Boone in there and eating happily, but for some reason Lando got confused and I really had trouble leading him into the pens, even with a bucket. However, during that process, he was eating out of the bucket tucked under my arm, and I was able to pet him on the cheek some. That’s progress. Later, he even approached me in the pens and lip-nibbled my fingers.

However, while doing all this, I noticed that the fence from the Calf Patch to the now defunct Barn Lot had been partially torn down as seen in the picture. So, we see that “horse-breaking” is not just breaking horses, it’s horses breaking things. I know exactly how this happened. When I left them in there yesterday, Tyree and Roanald Reagan were fighting over that piece of fence. They let it go by the time I left, but they must have had some unresolved issues later that night or sometime today. They managed to tear down a section of bull-panel and two runner boards, somehow lifting one of them up and out from underneath the panel. We’ll never know how that happened. I kind of judge our horses for not getting out, actually.

Anna came down with the drill, but I had to go back and get some staples and the hammer. It wasn’t a hard job, and we largely just put stuff back. No posts were broken (they are actually pretty good ones) and they didn’t even break the boards. They just disassembled a lot of it. The hardest part about fixing it was just doing it in the dark.

So, tomorrow, or at least on Friday, I will go back to trying to work a halter on these two. Hopefully, that won’t involve fencing.

Blessings,
Jason