2009 photo by Jeri L. Dobrowski

About Rodney Nelson
Poems
Books and Recording

Contacting Rodney Nelson

About Rodney Nelson 

Raised on a ranch on the Mouse River near Towner, North Dakota, Rodney Nelson, the missus and their two children have lived on the Sims Creek ranch near Almont, North Dakota, since 1984.  In addition to ranching, Rod works as a part-time brand inspector, horse trainer and aging rodeo performer.  Audiences throughout America know Rod as a popular rural humorist, entertainer, banquet speaker, and columnist.

Rodney Nelson's regular Up Sims Creek column appears bi-weekly in the "Country Living" section of Farm and Ranch Guide.

2005 photo, Medora, North Dakota, by Annika Nelson

Poems

The Proposal

Dakota Fresh Air

Good Clean Fun

ND Forecasts

Cowboy Laundry

Christmas on the Prairie  separate page

Up Sims Creek  separate page

 

The Proposal

Now Frank was fair at batchin
And he had a lot of friends
But his heart was aching badly for a mate.
The girls all seemed to like him
Despite his bumpkin looks
But he rarely ever asked one for a date.

For you see young Frank was smitten
By the comely Rose Marie
Why, he'd loved her since he was just a pup.
Though he knew she kinda liked him
Cause she always was so nice
He feared that he would never measure up.

For the graceful, slender, Rosie
Caught the eyes of all the boys.
More than one had asked young Rosie for her hand.
Proposals from the banker's son
Were declined, so Frank was sure
Rosie never would agree to wear his brand.

Rosie's folks were Frank's close neighbors
And they fed him lots of meals
Though Frank truly hated to impose.
Inga's cooking was delectable
And Frank couldn't help but note
She always set his plate right next to Rose.

Now Frank was educated
And better read than most
Quick and bright and witty as a rule,
But Drat! -in Rosie's presence
He seemed to self-destruct
And often seemed to act much like a fool.

For despite his best intentions
To make himself look sharp
He seemed to always suffer some mishap
Like the time to Frank's great horror
He seemed to lose his grip
And spilled a plate of beans on Rosie's lap!

One Sunday after dinner
Inga said it was too bad
Rosie's friend was sick-at home in bed
The girls had planned to see the movie
That was playing then in town
But now Rose would have to stay at home instead.

By golly-stammered Frankie
That truly is a shame
As Rosie stacked the dishes on the shelf.
I'd be honored to escort you Rose
If you'd really like to go.
For I'd kinda like to see that show myself.

Oh my! That sounds delightful
Said Rosie with a smile
And though they went, to Frank's dismay
Words he'd rehearsed for countless years
Got tangled up and stuck
And there wasn't much that Frank could say.

Except-sometime, Rose, this winter
Well, shucks, most anytime,
In fact, it would be nice most any day
You might like to see my homestead
Would you like to ride along
When I go to feed my cattle with the sleigh?

Well, she came one Monday morning
When the mercury sunk low
And for once, Frank acted plumb at ease
Rose, I'm glad it isn't snowing
And I'm thankful it ain't blowin
Cause today it would be dreadful with a breeze.

Well, he hitched up Babe and Birdie
And he helped her climb aboard
The horses trotted quickly to the stack.
Frank did all the talking
Now Rosie you keep walking
So you won't freeze while I load the rack

The trip back to the cattle
With the bobsled full of feed
Was pleasant as they snuggled in the hay
Frank had one hand on the lines
But the other held her close
As the horses pulled the load and made their way.

He talked about his favorite cows
And a couple that were mean
He pointed out a ringy, wild-eyed thing
He claimed he wasn't joking
But his eyes betrayed his glee
When he promised, Rose could ride her, come next spring.

She noticed how he handled
His team with lots of skill
His cattle nicely cared for and well fed
And he kept right on a talking
How he loved the rancher's life
While she nearly froze to death there on the sled.

Well Frank finally up and noticed
That he'd kept her out too long
Cause he saw her lips were turning kinda blue
He took her frozen hand in his
And he spoke these simple words
Rose, I'd like to share my cowboy life with you.

Now I hate to see you freezing
But I'd like your answer now
A yes, would surely do the trick.
And If you will agree
To spend your life with me
I'll get you to the cabin really quick!

How he loved to tell that story
About the day that he proposed
Though he feared her answer just might come too slow
Oh—He laughed with pure delight
How he got his timing right
On a bobsled when its forty two below!

© 2004, Rodney Nelson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

 

Dakota Fresh Air

The folks down at the tourism department
     sure go through some pains,
To brag up and glorify
     my state up on the plains.

I saw an ad not long ago
     that really did impress me,
Who would have guessed—my state is best
     for things one wants to see.

Yes, the pretty photos stunned me,
     I would have never thought,
I was living in the middle
     of one grand vacation spot.

It stressed our scenic beauty,
     talked up our industry,
Pointed out historic sites
     with good ac-cu-ra-cy.

They may have praised our weather
     a little to excess
but when they spoke of clean fresh air 
     well, folks, that's no "B. S."!

Yes, fresh air is abundant,
     it's never stale or sour—
We import the stuff from Canada
     at 90 miles and hour!

Air that we are breathing
     when it's pretty close to noon,
Was probably at breakfast time
     somewhere near Saskatoon!

It's truly quite a blessing,
     that sometimes it's a sin,
When it's traveling by so doggone fast
     that one can't breathe it in!

It comes from all directions,
     but the North winds are the best—
the air gets sort of thick sometimes
     when the wind is from the West.

I hate these blasted droughty years,
      like the ones we've had of late.
A hard, West wind is often filled
     with Montana real estate!

But it sometimes works out dandy,
     we all thought it was fine
how we got the Kildeer Mountains
     when they blew across the line!

When North Dakota parents
     Send their children out to play,
They fill their pockets up with rocks
     So they won't blow away!

But, by gosh, I'm not complaining,
     thought the wind is sometimes mean,
the air that we are breathing
     is truly fresh and clean!

And our weather—oh, it's grand sometimes,
     be it warm or winter chill.
But a good day in North Dakota
     is when that fresh air—is standing still!

© 1995, Rodney Nelson, from Cowboy Laundry
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Good Clean Fun

I remember making hay with Dad,
     We'd put it up in stacks—
Dad used to use a stackframe,
     and filled it to the max.

Then sometimes, but not often,
     he'd say "Rodney, you've the knack.
Grab a fork—I'll lift you up,
     and you top off the stack."

Reluctantly, I'd take the fork.
     He'd lift me up on top—
I'd stack that hay to 30 feet,
     before he'd finally stop.

Then he'd drive up really close,
     I could see him down beneath
As I stepped out on the pushoff
    on the end of the stacker teeth.

He'd back up a little ways,
     I hoped he'd try no tricks
But giving me rides on that farmhand,
     was how he got his kicks!

Wasn't long and I'd get mad.
     I'd had these rides before—
He'd slide the pushoff almost in,
     Then he'd run it out once more!

"Come on, Dad, let me down,
     this really isn't fair"
Then he'd point the teeth toward the ground
     and leave me dangling in the air!

I could hear him laughing down below,
     in hopeless choking mirth.
and I'd wonder if I'd ever again
     put my feet upon the earth!

It was no use to argue,
     Dad wouldn't quite 'till he was done,
But I always, always wondered,
     How could this be so fun?!

Well, our yard light burned out last year,
     and since I'd run that farmhand all my life,
I knew we could fix it in a minute
     if I could convince the wife!

Wasn't easy to convince her,
     she said a housewife was her role,
Though mad she was, she climbed aboard,
     Took a ride to the top of the pole.

I said, "Sweetheart, I'm so proud of you"
     when she fixed the light—
"And you're especially lovely when you're angry,
     You really are a sight."

"Let me down, you worthless cur,"
     She was having a full-fledged fit—
I couldn't pass up a chance like this,
     So I drove around a bit!

GOOD, CLEAN FUN—I said to myself
     as she called me a hopeless sap,
My grin got even wider
     as I made another lap!

"Honey, just enjoy yourself
     and isn't it a fright—
It's the first time that I've carried you,
     since our wedding night!"

I finally shut the tractor off
     Let her sit up there a while,
Promised her I'd let her down,
     if she would only smile!

Oh it was fun—but there's a problem,
     I can see it now, I can ...
It's gonna' take some might sweet talkin'
     when that light burns out again!

© 1989, Rodney Nelson, from Good Clean Fun
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
 

ND Forecasts

They’re the Darlings of the media

The prophets with the power

To make legions of the rural

Tune in most any hour.

 

What they say could make the difference

Between failure or success

Can cause grief beyond perception

Or unmeasured happiness.

 

Yes, the forecasts from the weatherman

Can make the future bright

But he suffers tons of ridicule

Cause he seldom gets it right.

 

We often get discouraged

From predictions that they make

Like when they promise us a snowstorm

And we never see a flake.

 

When we’re desperate for moisture

That we need to make a crop

They’ll promise us two inches

And we’ll scarcely see a drop.

 

Precipitation’s not their bag

But if I may be so bold

They’re often on the money

Predicting hot or cold.

 

We gotta hand it to them

(When I thought of this I grinned)

Up here in North Dakota

They’re deadly accurate with wind.

 

It’s one prediction we can count on

And they’re either fairly close,

Like we get just what they’ve promised

Or receive a double dose.

 

Gentle breezes heard predicted

In the weather monologue,

Could without exaggeration

Peel the hide right off a hog.

 

My advice to all you weathermen

Is so simple and so plain.

Please ease up on the wind a bit

And send us plenty rain!!

© 2008, Rodney Nelson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
 

Cowboy Laundry

Brides-to-be have much to learn,
   there's more to marriage than joy—
especially if the mate she's found
   is a sure-nuff country boy.

She's no doubt optimistic—
   oblivious to her fate...
The dangers that will come to pass
   she can't anticipate.

She dreams of newborn colts and calves,
   anticipation makes her grin—
But ranch life quickly dims these myths
  and reality sets in.

There's calves to work, cows to feed,
   meals are often late.
Unpaid bills, and drought and dirt
   are things she learns to hate.

It starts when "hubby" saunters in,
   a guy she's never seen unclean—
He's reeking and he's filthy,
   and she thinks it's kinda mean...

When he piles his duds upon the floor
   and gives her a big squeeze,
says "I need clean clothes in the morning,
   so wash these up, if you please."

She's gotta pick them off the floor,
   though the thought makes her kinda sick,
She thinks she sees them crawling,
   so she jabs 'em with a stick!

She's gotta get them to the washer,
   though it fills her heart with dread—
She shuts her eyes and throws 'em in...
   lightness fills her head!

But like a dose of smelling salts,
   the odor jolts this lass,
It's made up of sweat, of grease, or crud—
   and stuff that once was grass!

There's pine-tar too, and branding smoke,
   horse sweat and a drained abscess,
Diesel fuel and scouring calves,
   and a shot of KRS.

But the task is still unfinished,
   as she is well aware,
there's one more chore, for on the floor,
   lies her hubby's underwear!

She's seen some Hitchcock movies,
   storms have caused her awful fright,
But nothing she has seen before
   has prepared her for this sight!

An older, wiser ranchwife
   would read them like a book—
she'd know he'd oiled the windmill,
   and with another look...

She could see old Brownie had thrown him
   by the telltale gumbo mud—
And he'd repaired another prolapse
   'cause the front was stained with blood.

There are countless other stories
   that a cowboy's briefs could share
Like if he had been eating chili
   or had a real bad scare!

But the new bride lacks the knowledge,
   and in her frenzied state,
She grabs them with a plier
   and shows them to her mate.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Hon,
   you know what that stain means...
I wasn't careful where I sat
   and it soaked on through my jeans."

She just can't quite believe it,
   and she's plum filled up with doubt—
She says "If what you say is true, my dear,
   you wore this pair inside out!"

Oh, it won't be long 'til scenes like this
   will be common to the bride—
and countless other problems
   she'll learn to take in stride.

Yes, she'll see her share of troubles
   that the coming years will bring—
But if she can handle COWBOY LAUNDRY,
  she can handle anything!

© 1995, Rodney Nelson, from Cowboy Laundry
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

 

Read Rodney Nelson's Christmas at Sims, posted with other 2007 Christmas poems

 

 

Books and  Recordings

 

  Good Clean Fun
1989, with sketches by Jay Larson

25 of Rod's original poems, including the crowd-pleaser and perennial favorite, "Good Clean Fun"

Contents:

"R. R."
Good Clean Fun
Rain Gauge Revenge
Rudy the Cowdog
A Cowboy Goes Skiing
Ma's Shoe
Mistaken Identity
The Trailer
The Veterinarian
Micky's Mash
The Widows Winter
Modern-Day Superman
Getting Started
"Dragons of the Prairie"
The Baler
The 2 A. M. Call
Answering Machine Rebuff
Gettin' a Bargain
One in the Cattle Business
The Hired Hand and the Milkcow
Income Tax Time
The Bulldogger at Kansas State
The Saga of John Deere
The Rodeo Trip
Rural Schools

Available for $7.50 plus $2.50 postage from Rodney Nelson, 4905 44th St., Almont, ND 58520  701/843-8081

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  Cowboy Laundry and other poems of wit and humor
1995, with photographs by David Lundquist

Enjoy 22 more humorous Nelson poems, featuring "Cowboy Laundry" and "Windchill Overkill"

Contents:

Cowboy Laundry
Questions
Gift Rift
Old Timer Rodeos
Dakota Fresh Air
In-Laws
Of Course We're Norse!
Rodeo Logic
Chicken vs. Beef
To Obtain a Line of Credit
Windchill Overkill
Shop Needs a Mop
The Electric Blanket
Porta-Potty Predicament
Spring of '95
The Future of the Common People
Bogus Buckle
Answering Machine Rebuff II
Truly Tough Cowboys
You Get What You Pay For
Prairie Political Potential
Fashion Fixin' Fencers

Available for $7.50 plus $2.50 postage from Rodney Nelson, 4905 44th St., Almont, ND 58520  701/843-8081

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  Wilbur's Christmas Gift
2000, illustrated by Scott Nelson  (Hardcover)

Enjoy a heartwarming Christmas story of a cowboy and his gift to the children of a rural country school.

An illustration by Scott Nelson from Wilbur's Christmas Gift is the 2011 Christmas Art Spur.

Available for $10.00 plus $2.50 postage from Rodney Nelson, 4905 44th St., Almont, ND 58520  701/843-8081

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  Up Sims Creek, the first 100 trips
2001, illustrated by Scott Nelson

A delightful collection of Rod's first 100 columns as featured in the Farm and Ranch Guide.

Available for $12.95 plus $2.50 postage from Rodney Nelson, 4905 44th St., Almont, ND 58520  701/843-8081

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  Where the Buffalo Rhyme (CD)  

What's inside is just as good as the cover. Where the Buffalo Rhyme (named by Baxter Black) was recorded live in October, 2003 at the Boss Cowman Cowboy Opry in Lemmon, South Dakota, and features four top poets, all Honored Guests: Jess Howard, Yvonne Hollenbeck, Rodney Nelson and Elizabeth Ebert.  Jim Thompson, of Live With Jim Thompson! and Heritage of the West is the emcee.  

Included poems are:

Yvonne Hollenbeck
     What Would Martha Do?
     Poor Old Geezer Dames
     Why His Ears are Swollen
     The Waitress
     Rebel Rouser
     Best Gift I've Had in Years

Elizabeth Ebert
     It Takes Real Love
     The Last Great Rabbit Hunt
     An Ordinary Morning
     Ranch Romance
     The Cemetery
     Ode to Tofu
     Cowboy Courtin' Time

Jess Howard
     Duckin' the Law
    Big Bad John, Part II
    Suicide
    Matter of Minds
    Old Henry

Rodney Nelson
     Auction Sale
     Getting Started
     Good Clean Fun
     Not Enough Stuff
     Cowboy Laundry

The CD is available from any of the four poets for $15. You can order from Rodney Nelson, 4905 44th St., Almont, ND 58520  701/843-8081.

See a review here.

Jessica Brandi Lifland (www.jessicalifland.com), the official photographer for the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, is working on a project documenting the lives of cowboy poets.

 

Her photoblog includes a slide show of Rodney Nelson accompanied by his poem "Good Clean Fun" from The BAR-D Roundup: Volume Four.

 

Contacting Rodney Nelson 

 

 

Rodney Nelson
4905 44th St.
Almont, ND 58520  
701/843-8081

 

 

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