On the Lamb with the WOOLseys

I hadn't seen Bill and Barbara Woolsey for at least ten years, so when we met yesterday at the fairgrounds, we exchanged some big hugs. Bill (and his sister Alice of coffee cult fame) grew up just down the road from us on Sand Creek.

Before it was Ralph Sletager's place, it was the Delamarter house. Before the Delamarter house, some folks called it the Pennington place, but even before that, the Woolsey family enjoyed living on that beautiful place where Sand Creek flows down from Schweitzer.

Bill's wife Barbara grew up far, far away on Hwy 95 just north of the Wal Mart stoplight. She was a Shoemaker. I met her sister yesterday and learned they have a brother who lives in Fairbanks.

Barbara Woolsey was always one of those women to admire. I knew her through the Cow Belles. At first, I didn't exactly appreciate her because, she like her fiendish group of friends, enjoyed great delight every year while I tried to show my Hereford cow Millie in fitting and showing at the fair.

Somehow, they always knew precisely when the Marianne and Millie show would begin, so they'd all gather on a bleacher and wait for Millie to go into action, bellering for her baby and dragging me around the arena overlooking Lake Pend Oreille. Barbara and the other Cow Belles would giggle and snicker throughout this humiliating time as I tried to control my normally well-trained 1,500-pound cow who couldn't stand to be away from her calf.

Fortunately, unlike a McNall shorthorn steer chose to do one August at the countywide 4-H picnic, Millie never did take me for a swim in the lake. Before that could happen, the judge would politely and empathetically ask me to please tie my cow to the railing. Once more, I'd earn the bottom white ribbon for fitting and showing.

I did forgive Barbara and her friends, and I actually started liking these women. So, much so that one day when Barbara called me and asked if I'd consider working as president of the Cow Belles, I did not think before speaking and said, "Yes." That was a mistake, but while wading through the responsibilities associated with the job, I marveled at the dedication these women put forth to promote the beef industry. They're amazing, creative and talented.

Years have passed since those days, and the Woolseys have lived in Billings, Mont., for a long time. Bill drives livestock across the nation while Barbara spends her time promoting-----sheep. She raises them and later, has some butchered and processed. So, yesterday, during our meeting, she walked to her mobile home freezer and pulled out several packages of lamb chops and even some "lamburger" for us to sample.

Quite a departure from the old days of the Cow Belles and the beef industry. The Cow Belles now go by the name of Cattle Women, so I guess I can't refer to Barbara as a Lamb Belle.

When you've got a name like WOOL sey, though, I guess Sheep Lady do. It's good to see these wonderful old friends yesterday, and I'm now looking forward to sampling our homegrown Montana lamb chops.