Paul Marchant

I hold some allegiances to various creeds, ideologies, people and sports teams. The strength of my allegiance varies according to the cause. I know plenty of guys who live or die by the color of their tractors and their cows or the letters on the tailgate of their pickups.

Given my weak resistance to any sort of peer pressure, it truly is a wonder that I haven’t ended up as a strung-out junkie spending his days in and out of county jail.

Several years ago, we moved our beginning calving date from the first of February to the first of March. There are merits and drawbacks to either program.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite treats was a chunk of sugar and sour something-or-other with a Sweet-Tart label, if I remember right. It was the exact size and shape of a big old sulfa bolus.

Old Man Winter hasn’t been shy about making his presence known in southern Idaho this year. It’s kind of my goal every winter to make it to Christmas before we have to do any serious feeding. We didn’t even make it through the first week of December this year.

Three or four years ago, in an effort to keep up with the world and keep an eye on my kids, I took a bold leap and entered the modern world when I got my own Facebook page. It took some tutoring, and I had to endure a fair amount of ridicule and impatience from my kids, but I eventually learned my way around the rage of the social media world.