Just One of the Boys

I grew up in the company of men.  In a group of people, I have always been more comfortable with the boys than visiting with the ladies.  It suits me fine that I can converse with the men about fencing and haying, cattle and feed prices, four wheeler vs. horses, getting bucked off or "took" by a cow and many of the other situations we encounter on the ranch.  But don't get me wrong, I can cook a branding dinner that will rival just about anybody's.  I'm a decent cook, know how to sew and would probably surprise most people that I can even embroider if the situation calls for it.

My dad toted me along almost everywhere with him when I was a little kid.  By the time I was ten years old, I was already a pretty salty hand moving cattle....well, good enough to know how to stay out of the way, at least.  There are a lot of adults that don't know that much!  I could wrestle a calf at branding by that time too.  Not the great big ones, but I knew how to hold one down.  And by that time in my life, my place with the boys had already been established.   

As an adult, I learned how to do all the ground work at brandings.  Not very many women cut the calves (castrate) or for that matter, not that many brand.  You usually see the women at brandings (although not very many at that) either roping or vaccinating.  Truth is, I don't rope.  Not very well anyway.  My dad told me long ago there was never a shortage of people wanting to rope, so I had better learn how to do the ground work.  Sometimes, the ground help works their tails off, just as hard as the calf wrestlers do.....and by the way, I can still throw a calf pretty good too.  Although most places I go to help are nice to the (older) women and don't ask me to.

I can joke with the boys.  And I can drink with them too....ok, I can drink in THEIR PRESENCE.  I cannot hold liquor or any other kind of alcohol nearly as good as my male counterparts.  And fortunately, I am not easily offended by off-color or jokes with extreme sexual content......I have just about heard it all and don't get embarrassed very easily.  I can dish out a hard time and I can take one back.  In college, I used to say I had a sign on my forehead that read, "Please give me sh*t.  I can take it." 

And much to my dad's chagrin, I can cuss with the boys....as I've gotten older, I TRY not to use the really bad words and I never (almost anyway) use the Lord's name in vain.  But, yes, I can still cuss with the boys.

But I think one of the things that really makes me "one of the boys" is that over the years the "boys" have seen that I don't expect special treatment because I happen to be " the fairer of the species".  I get in there and pull my weight when it comes time to do a job.  And I also like to play hard when the work is over.  The fellers around here are used to me being at the brandings, shipping day, trailing yearlings, fighting prairie fires or whatever job there is to do.  But I've also noticed that the guys do try to take care of me.  When I let them.  As Matt says, "Well, you ARE still a woman."  Yes, honey, I suppose I am.