“The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen
Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹
          
A few days ago I took my niece up on the invitation to join her at school for “hot lunch”. When your nephew and nieces range in age from 13 down to 7, it is easy to see the GIANT handwriting on the wall. Those pending teenage years have the possibility to make those invitations a thing of the past ! A scheduling conflict resulted in the need to move our original lunch date from the coveted “salad bar” day to a standard “hot lunch” day. Have no fear, this school brought it’s noon hour A-Game. My nephew and nieces attend a private Catholic School in Yakima. Most of the teachers recognize me by now as I have been picking up at least 1 child a year for going on a decade! Despite what most folks would consider a less-than-friendly locale, the school proves friendly & welcoming to the weary lunch maven or afternoon courier. On this recent voyage I found myself likening their school to a small, rural town. The kind of town where the lunch is hot, the smiles are warm, & crazy cowboy dreams are still dreamed.

Back at the cafeteria my small town euphoria was kindly interrupted by a sweet voice, “Aunt Jenna, would you like milk?” Don’t tell the health officials, but typically the only time I reach for milk is when it comes served as a double in a tall glass with ice, a few choice ingredients, and a name that sounds suspiciously like a famous handgun!  On this day, nostalgia won as chocolate milk beckoned its way to my tray. As I found my way back to a table surrounded by 11 year old girls and not a boy in sight, I found myself wondering when that fateful day arrived so many years ago that took away the choice of chocolate milk and took our crazy cowboy dreams right along with it.

One of the great blessings life throws our way is those times when a philosophical theme of one kind or another takes residence in our mind. This philosophical battle invokes pondering that may last for days, weeks, even months. As we drive to and from the kids’ school, ride through that group of pairs, or fix the familiar fence line we may not even realize what our brain fervently ponders day after day. If we are lucky we will reach the pinnacle of all great pondering…the much lofted after revelation. Cattle ranchers are blessed to be an intricate part of nature that includes few others. They are able to take in the wide open spaces, fresh air, understand the delicate balance of all life that surrounds them. All that oneness with nature is great but let’s face it; 'em ranchers are slightly scant on human interaction! It has been a long time since they saddled up to a lunchroom table with their chocolate milk, unless you count those bi-yearly trips to the sale barn cafe!  However, this lifestyle makes them far from short on philosophical ponderings or even a profound revelation now and again. Rather than send our ranchers to “Mingling 101” down at the local Eagles, let’s keep them out on the range & tap into that pondering mind. How intriguing it is to sit down at the lunch table and hear a group of folks whose crazy cowboy dreams may very well be alive and kickin’.

My penchant is strong for anything that takes me back to a time when the worry was less and the “living and doing” was more. Typically that means a great deal of enthusiasm at every 2/$1.00 candy rack where the packaging hasn’t changed since Reagan was in office. However, if you look beyond the Cinnamon Bears, Bubbletape, & Slurpees you just might catch a glimpse of the “good ole days”. The Good Ole Days are not limited to the 1880s or the writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder. We all have our very own version of good ole days. That school lunchroom with its choice of “white milk or chocolate” is just one small peek into our glorious yesteryears. Those days when our minds were full enough to be present yet empty enough to dream.

Someone reminded me this week of the saying about doers and dreamers. My personal rendition goes something like “There are three types of people in this world: Dreamers, Doers, and those that let others do the dreaming and the doing.” I believe we cannot successfully do until we have successfully dreamed. When is the last time you let yourself dream or even turned those dreams into something you did? We all know that no one has successfully ever kept us down without our consent but sometimes it takes a good hot lunch, carton of milk, and a kickball game to remind us to start living our crazy cowboy dreams.

“....The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen
Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹

(¹ Robert Earl Keen. “Crazy Cowboy Dream.” Bigger Piece of Sky. MP3. Koch Records, 2004.)

An early evening perched on my family’s deck left my gaze to rest upon what I have long thought to be the most striking animal in the corral. As the sun set slowly behind Mt. Clements, the coloring of this animal was brought to life before my eyes. The sky’s gold and orange hues set off the rich chocolate dorsal stripe, surrounded by an almost brindle colored coat. The animal gazed up at me and I swore our eyes locked for a few fleeting seconds. Those soft eyes left me wondering what past such a beautiful creature was holding onto. Over the last year I have been intrigued over how something so rare and beautiful on the outside could be so fragile and complex on the inside. You see, this animal was not just another normal four-legged creature that had found its way onto my family’s abode. This was a mule. In fact, it was the first mule to ever have found a home here. “Mule” seemed to be its name, and in the nearly two years since he’s moved in he had come as far as almost allowing me to pet him! Dear family friends were kind enough to loan him to us in hopes we could lure him out of shell with TLC and more than a dose of trust. As I have not been the one footing the feed bill, “Mule” is of no bother to me. His “beautiful” bray always supplies me with one of those from-the-belly laughs and typically when I needed a laugh the most. His rare coloring gives a girl all the eye candy she could ask for, so as far as I am concerned he can put his feet up and stay awhile longer.

One day while out painting, “Mule” decided to rest his head over the nearby gate and keep my company, a distance he felt was safe. Looking over at this creature that wanted so badly to trust but couldn’t unbury his past, I got to pondering about the path folks leave behind and the path that remains in the distance. As the mule loudly beckoned for my attention I looked up and begin to wonder just where one crosses over from the heart of a horse into the heart of a mule.

As I have journeyed through this writing experience with the Washington Cattlemen’s Association, some very drastic changes have occurred in my life, but more importantly in my soul. My recent WCA Ketch Pen sabbatical was not unintentional. For those of you that may tune into my blog now and again, you will have possibly noted the change. Anticipating a move to Texas, I quietly changed my blog from the Young Washington Cattlemen’s Association to The Sagebrush Chronicles. This name change was about more than just a potential location change, it granted me the freedom to dive deeper into philosophical ramblings without fear of being politically and socially neutral. My writing is something that seems to come from whatever journey my mind and soul is adventuring down. Great for a blog, not great for newspaper deadlines or an audience featuring a load of cattlemen and women that may be used to a stauncher read. After many months of being left high and dry come Ketch Pen time, I came to a bold decision. As a volunteer writer for a non-profit organization, I was going deep. After all, aren’t we all trudging up the same trail? The trail that cannot seem to be located on any map. More...

A movie was released this last year that featured a character I found myself strongly relating to. A classic scene in the movie included a speech by this character that stuck with me, "..I tend to think of myself as a 1-man wolf pack..." I share a similar independent spirit but over the years have learned to grow my wolf pack to include many different genres of life. Lately, I find myself relating to a rare and unique group of folks ... truck drivers. Now, I am well aware of the fact this elite group will not be inducting me fully into their posse anytime soon. Let's face it, does anybody really think that I am the best choice to pull that load of fat cattle or hay while bombing down the freeway? However, over the course of more than a year, the road has become my home. I am not quite logging long haul miles but I cover a nice, easy 600 miles roundtrip on my weekly jaunt to and from my folks' place. When I passed the 30,000 mile mark I officially moved into a new road warrior tier. This top tier membership includes perks & new-found wisdom such as understanding that any trips before 5pm and after 5am will encounter “unbearable traffic" through Eastern Washington, an unexplainable affection for gas stations-specifically coffee machines & merchandise racks, and the much lofted ownership of the 7-Eleven coffee refill card! However, what really sets this pavement pounding tier aside is the Zen-like deep thought the open road brings. While driving the other day I heard a quote from a California cattle rancher and agriculture advocate, "As my grandpa used to say, 'To understand my perspective, ride 100 miles with me.'" With my foot firmly glued to the pedal and another 200 miles to go, only two entertainment options remained for the drive: I could continue singing along to Tanya Tucker, or I could get this "perspective" predicament ironed out. It looked like 'Lizzie and the Rainman' was going to have to wait. 

When is the last time you said, "I would be interested to hear what their perspective was on this matter." Can you actually remember ever saying or thinking that and if you are honest with yourself, did you really truly want to hear what someone else's perspective was? Perhaps now is a good time to take a serene drive and really chew the fat on ol’ Grandpa's quote. I will be the first one to admit that if you asked me if I really wanted to "understand Obama's perspective", colorful words would be heard for miles around. I am a little too prickled up right now to ride 100 miles with someone who's perspective I think does not contain an once of rationale or intelligent thought. Oh crud, now I sound just like the folks I’m complaining about-open minded until I actually open my mouth. However, when I take a deep breath I think I would want to sit down with the Obamas and get an earful of their perspective. I am curious about how people get to their beliefs. If I wasn’t raised in Yakima County on a cattle ranch I guarantee my perspective on life would be far different than what it is currently. When is the last time you had a conversation with someone who had a different perspective than you? Better yet, would you even offer up your listening time if some young chap’s appearances hinted they came from a different wolf pack than you? More...

(Disclaimer: Views expressed below are not representative of the WCA. Solely reflective of the author.)

Another year rounded the corner and I found myself with another tally on my age card. This new found age came with an epiphany. I realized I am not getting any younger. I found myself like a deer-in-the-headlights, suddenly faced with a need to stop wasting years and hunker down to change a few things. My changes are not like the ones that will bring you to a gym for the first two months out of the New Year with the promise of finally sticking with it this time. Instead, I realized some very serious changes were in order. The government was not looking any smarter, the lottery hadn’t called my name, and to top it all off now I was getting old. The tipping point came when I passed by a mirror and instead of finding Obama or Pelosi, the only idiot I found staring back was ME! It was go-time.

Thanks to my newfound “hope and change” 2010 kicked off with gusto. January brought a call from the American National Cattlewomen President-elect wondering if I would oblige them as Legislative Committee Chair. With this new position I had less than three weeks to try and get myself down to the NCBA Annual Convention to meet the ANCW crew I would be working with this next year. My cattle industry trip-planning style hadn’t failed me thus far so in keeping with tradition, I gathered enough pennies and nickels for a plane ticket to San Antonio the day before I flew out! Thanks to the PNW YCC trip the weekend prior, University of Idaho students offered up a spare bunk in their room my first two days at convention. The latter part of the week I bunked with my friend Amanda, whom I met last spring on the Young Cattlemen’s Conference trip. At the end of convention we steered her rig down a back highway en route to Fort Worth so I could take in the Texas landscape. I had less than 24 hours to experience Fort Worth, but we knew from our YCC trip we could efficiently use every hour while I was there! My only trip to Texas had been as a stop-through on my way to Mexico for a church mission trip when I was fifteen. This trip to Texas gave me the opportunity to actually experience the culture and environment while learning invaluable information at the NCBA convention.

As a first-time attendee at the NCBA Convention, it felt similar to a first day at college. Over 6,000 NCBA members from across the US attended this year. Also in attendance was a majority of my 2009 Young Cattlemen’s College classmates! More...

There are two groups we get placed into based on how we approach life.  We either approach situations with "black & white" decisions or our decision making process is a little more blended; the resulting color is "gray".  What happens if our decisions are black & white sometimes and gray other times?  Does this mean we are lost or does it mean we created a "charcoal" group?

 Recently I've spent a lot of time doing that thinking thing again.  Reflection is something that can be very difficult to engage in.  I don't blame anyone that chooses not to reflect back on experiences in their life or conversations they have had.  It can be one of the most emotionally challenging experiences we may have.  That emotion business can be a dangerous territory to enter into!  For some reason I choose to attempt to reflect on my experiences.  I keep telling myself the big guy above must keep giving me experiences for a reason and I better listen if he's talking.  Recently this reflection has been centered on a man very dear to my life More...

My name is Jenna Feusner and I was raised in central Washington on a cattle and hay operation with some stocker and backgrounding thrown in the mix.  Growing up in the dry, arid climate of Central Washington leads to much reflection throughout the summer months’ endless changing of handline irrigation.  I think my passion for the cattle industry and agriculture was honed during those “character-building” days.  My passion is one that stems from my personal appreciation and excitement of what we have been given here on earth.  No two places in the United States are the same and the cattle industry is an amazing example of the stewardship of our land from coast to coast.  Our cattlemen are able to combine their passion and knowledge with the ability to adapt their ranches’ environmental needs no matter where they’re located.  These ranchers’ successful consistency of delivering safe & nutritious beef day in and day out is what renews my conviction in the industry.

After graduating from Washington State University in 2008 with a BS in Agriculture I went to work for Northwest Farm Credit, an agricultural lending company in the Pacific NW.  As a young professional I was concerned with maintaining my ties to ranching and cattle as I found myself spending more of my day looking at a computer screen rather than across an open pasture!  I have been involved with the Washington Cattlemen’s Association ever since and have never looked back.  I write a monthly column for their publication, The Ketch Pen, promote the WCA & industry thru radio shows, founded the Young Washington Cattlemen’s Association, and author the YWCA blog (www.youngwacattle.com).  I recently joined the board of Washington Ag in the Classroom and am excited about the joint relationship of growing agricultural advocacy and telling our story!

My work for the cattlemen of Washington is inspired by a very personal motivation.  I wanted to be able to share my father’s vision & knowledge with this next generation of cattlemen that never received the opportunity firsthand.  A man whose industry leadership was cut short due to his personal honor as a husband and father; helping his wife recover from a coma & brain injury, then later supporting his family as a rancher throughout his 5.5 year cancer battle.  That is my personal picture when someone asks what the United States Cattle Industry represents.  This industry is about faith, hard work, values, and resilience.  I hope to revive those same beliefs in cattlemen and consumers in Washington and across the country.  Armed with modern day business sense and tried and true values we will successfully lead the cattle industry forward for generations to come!  I am just one of many who have been influenced by the values and character of the cattle business and can’t wait to introduce the strong & solid faces of our industry to the world.