I grew up on a ranch on the Wind River Indian Reservation in central Wyoming.  The high mountain desert made for tough cows and equally tough kids.  We all learned to do without and be thankful for what little we had.  Both of my parents were descendants of  Wyoming homesteaders.  My heritage was full of strength and determination.

Ranching was a choice, not a necessity.  The choice was made because of the way of life.  The harshness of everyday living was accepted with knowing that the stock came first, you came second.  Frozen fingers, weary bones, joy and satisfaction all came in the same package. Agriculture was everything I lived for.  My dad was also a Vo-Ag instructor so I knew the FFA creed by the time I was 6 six years old and would bounce along in the feed truck reciting it over and over for the 3 or 4 dogs that always joined me as I drove in 1st gear, bump, bump, bump over the rough field.

FFA and 4-H were big parts of my world. I judged horses, livestock, dairy, and agronomy, and showed everything my parents would allow on the place including steers, lambs, pigs, dairy cows and horses.  My FFA experience taught many lessons that proved over time to be invaluable in daily life.  I learned parliamentary procedure, how to figure feed rations, effectively manage my herd of cattle, and the most important rules of etiquette.  FFA taught me how to speak in front of thousands, lead the Wyoming as State President and compete on judging teams against the nation’s best.  I also earned the chance to travel abroad fueling the curiosity that ran through my veins.  At 16, I went to Japan, to live and work on a rice and tea farm. At 18, I went to Germany, experiencing yet another way of life.

In 4-H, I not only had livestock projects, but with the help of my grandmother, I learned to sew.  I was grateful, because I was tired of wearing my brother’s hand-me-down Levi’s and waffle stompers.  I dreamt of flowery dresses and chic designs like those I saw in Vogue. In the 4-H dress revue I was always the one reaching beyond the yoked shirt for a silk dress with pill box hat or jodphurs and tailored shirt with ascot, none of which belonged on the sage brush plains that I called home.

Perhaps it was a thirst for life, perhaps it was restlessness.  I began to dream of being far from the cows that kept me fixing fence and chopping ice.  I applied to Cornell University and was accepted.  I planned to be a foreign ag trade specialist with an emphasis on Asia.  Then my world turned upside down and I lost my father.  Looking back I realize that my higher power had a plan, but when you are that young it’s hard to believe.  I graduated from Chadron State College in NW Nebraska with a Degree in Marketing and Psychology.  Offered a job in Kansas City with Land of Lakes or a job as an ag loan officer in Worland, Wyoming, I chose the latter.  No matter how much I had wanted to ditch the ranch for the big city just a few years before I no longer could bring myself to do it completely.

With banking, social work, selling and marketing consulting behind me, Asia still called.  I started exporting Wyoming products to Japan.  It was then that I learned of the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming.  I was offered a job as their executive director and suddenly found something that I was passionate about once again.  Meanwhile I was still running 100 head of registered Charolais cows that I had literally taken to college with me.  It was the herd I had built from the single heifer my dad had given me on my sixth birthday and one I was eternally proud of.  There wasn’t a thing about cows that I didn’t want to know.   I could pull a calf, do minor surgeries,  fit a calf for show, or feel confident making culling decisions.  For 25 years I was in the cow business, then I made the decision to dedicate 100 percent of my time to western design.  I don’t regret the decision, but I do miss the ranch and my cows.  Today, I still feel the pull from an industry that is essential to our nation.  I am passionate about documenting the stories of family ranches who have survived for generations.  I am equally passionate about western design: the artists, designers and craftspeople that create the work that mirrors its ancestry.

 I feel blessed to live and work in Wyoming.  It is home to me.  I want to raise my daughter in the wide open spaces and breathe the clean air. It is a place where my 94 year old grandmother can still drive and people are patient with her and kindly open doors.  It is a place where ranching values still exists.  Handshakes are as good as gold and hard work is appreciated.