On the day school started in 2001, Richard, myself, and another retired couple of educators drove by our schools to honk good-bye in a “Ha ha, you’re back in school and we aren’t,” sort of way.
We were headed for Vegas, then Yellowstone and on to the Black Hills to see the Presidential Heads on a Mountain. We were having a great time enjoying our newfound freedom.
On September 11, we were in Cody, Wyoming. We awoke to the terrible sights on television, along with everyone else in the nation.
Our plan had been to visit Mt. Rushmore that day. Instead we sat in our hotel rooms watching the horror with our eyes wide with fear and our hands over our mouths. I remember my skin feeling prickly and my breathing was shallow.
After some discussion and several emotional phone calls home, (Home! Suddenly we just wanted to be home!), we decided to proceed to our destination. We couldn’t help but think of the teachers we left behind and the children in their classes. What were they saying to them? How could they explain this? I remember how emotional it was in our classrooms the day the Challenger exploded. This was of a far greater scope.
With our car radio tuned to the unfolding news, we crossed into South Dakota.
.
The sky was eerily empty.
We called our loved ones again. Daughter Martie had decided to keep our granddaughter home from school. No one seemed to know what would happen next.
As we came upon the area of Mt. Rushmore, there were armed guards at the access road. (We took their picture from afar.) Upon learning that all of the monuments across the United States had been closed down, we spent the next twenty-four hours alternately planning to go on home and waiting to see what happened next.
.
When Mt. Rushmore re-opened we walked around the plaza there and then attended the evening show. I’m sure that the production is always wonderful, but that night! Oh my! It was emotionally charged with that surge of ultra-patriotism that everyone had suddenly come to enjoy. Tears washed the faces of everyone in the audience as we sang, “America,” “ The Star Spangled Banner,” and “God Bless America.”
We stayed on the road for the next week, visiting Glacier Park, Coeur d’Alene, and Seattle. There was a different feel out there. Flags popped up on cars, of course, but the people were different. There was a change in humanity. People were more gentle and friendly. Strangers were acting like old friends. Everyone was open and raw. There was a feeling of “us-ness.”
Turned out to be a good time to travel.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Grammies 2010
Grammies 2010
…or as Steven Colbert called it,
“The show where performers exercise their most precious right; the right to congratulate each other.”
Sunday night’s show was the best Grammy show I have seen in years. (ie, not much rap displays, and lots of Agreeing With Me.)
Mr. Colbert announced the Song of the Year, (Single Ladies) by reading it from his iPad, which he pulled from inside his jacket. I have been amused by parodies of Beyonce’s video of Single Ladies, most notably by Justin Timberlake who, along with two members of the SNL cast, dressed in black tights and four-inch heels and did the Single Ladies dance. Hilarious.
Beyonce put on a Show with a capital “S!” She had about forty dancing storm troopers, and great, elaborate costumes. She sang, If I Were a Boy and then slipped in a bit of Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know,” (or as we call it in my family, “The Cross-eyed Bear Song.”) It may be the angriest song ever performed.
As an old (-er) lady, I could be Pink’s oldest fan. I also like Lady GaGa. They showed their awesome talent Sunday night.
Pink performed soaking wet acrobatics in the air, while singing, I might add!
Lady GaGa can sing! She can play the piano and sing at the same time, which never ceases to amaze me. She performed with another one of my favorite divas, Elton John, and they brought out the best in each other.
Both Pink and Lady GaGa make Cher look conservative. That’s not easy to do.
My favorite songwriter, Leonard Cohen, won a Lifetime Achievement Award. So did Loretta Lynn. I never thought I’d mention these two people in the same paragraph.
Zac Brown won the best new artist. I hadn’t heard of any of the other people they were up against. (The “Ting Tings?”)
The Black Eyed Peas performed. They do the best work out songs. Put them on your ipod and go work out. Work out for me, too, because I am busy. Other good workout tunes are Blame it on the A-A-Alcohol, Footloose, and Use Somebody. (I am good at choosing work out songs, just not at working out.)
There were great performances by Lady Antebellum, The Kings of Leon, Taylor Swift and Stevie Nicks, Andre Bocelli and Mary J. Blige. Every performance was great, but the best of the best was the Michael Jackson 3-D performance, and I didn’t even have any 3-D glasses. If you missed it, you must Google it! I don’t care what Michael (did with the Jesus Juice,) (may or may not have done,) (was accused of doing) he knew how to put on a show. That boy could sing and dance!
Stevie Nicks was not the only old rocker featured on Sunday night’s show. We got to see Jon Bon Jovi, Neil Young, Lionel Richie, Smokey Robinson, and Leon Russell. Anyone remember Mad Dogs and Englishmen? Leon lived across the street from our friends in Tulsa. What a partier!
The entire show was impressively grandiose. I loved every minute of it, even the rap performances. (Did I just write those words?)
…or as Steven Colbert called it,
“The show where performers exercise their most precious right; the right to congratulate each other.”
Sunday night’s show was the best Grammy show I have seen in years. (ie, not much rap displays, and lots of Agreeing With Me.)
Mr. Colbert announced the Song of the Year, (Single Ladies) by reading it from his iPad, which he pulled from inside his jacket. I have been amused by parodies of Beyonce’s video of Single Ladies, most notably by Justin Timberlake who, along with two members of the SNL cast, dressed in black tights and four-inch heels and did the Single Ladies dance. Hilarious.
Beyonce put on a Show with a capital “S!” She had about forty dancing storm troopers, and great, elaborate costumes. She sang, If I Were a Boy and then slipped in a bit of Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know,” (or as we call it in my family, “The Cross-eyed Bear Song.”) It may be the angriest song ever performed.
As an old (-er) lady, I could be Pink’s oldest fan. I also like Lady GaGa. They showed their awesome talent Sunday night.
Pink performed soaking wet acrobatics in the air, while singing, I might add!
Lady GaGa can sing! She can play the piano and sing at the same time, which never ceases to amaze me. She performed with another one of my favorite divas, Elton John, and they brought out the best in each other.
Both Pink and Lady GaGa make Cher look conservative. That’s not easy to do.
My favorite songwriter, Leonard Cohen, won a Lifetime Achievement Award. So did Loretta Lynn. I never thought I’d mention these two people in the same paragraph.
Zac Brown won the best new artist. I hadn’t heard of any of the other people they were up against. (The “Ting Tings?”)
The Black Eyed Peas performed. They do the best work out songs. Put them on your ipod and go work out. Work out for me, too, because I am busy. Other good workout tunes are Blame it on the A-A-Alcohol, Footloose, and Use Somebody. (I am good at choosing work out songs, just not at working out.)
There were great performances by Lady Antebellum, The Kings of Leon, Taylor Swift and Stevie Nicks, Andre Bocelli and Mary J. Blige. Every performance was great, but the best of the best was the Michael Jackson 3-D performance, and I didn’t even have any 3-D glasses. If you missed it, you must Google it! I don’t care what Michael (did with the Jesus Juice,) (may or may not have done,) (was accused of doing) he knew how to put on a show. That boy could sing and dance!
Stevie Nicks was not the only old rocker featured on Sunday night’s show. We got to see Jon Bon Jovi, Neil Young, Lionel Richie, Smokey Robinson, and Leon Russell. Anyone remember Mad Dogs and Englishmen? Leon lived across the street from our friends in Tulsa. What a partier!
The entire show was impressively grandiose. I loved every minute of it, even the rap performances. (Did I just write those words?)
Grading Science Reports
For my first good deed of 2011, I helped my sister grade her ocean life reports. First, I suggested we just give them all A's and go shopping, but she is a stickler for going by the rubric. She teaches middle school science and math. Let us have a moment of silence in her honor right now.
I sort of like helping her with this chore now and then because I always learn something new, plus middle school kids write some pretty funny stuff!
I learned two new things that I didn't know before and my sister verified to be true. For one thing I learned that the green sea turtle has non-retractible limbs. I should have known this because I happen to be somewhat of a sea turtle expert. I have stood in the sand, not three feet from a gigantic turtle as she laid and subsequently buried her eggs. Then I walked beside her as she lumbered back into the sea. It was a life changing experience.
Also, new to my vocabulary, due to the report grading event, is the grouping word “smack.” If one needs to speak of a group of jellyfish, they are called a smack. If you should ever stumble into a smack of jellyfish, believe me you will speak of the experience.
The following “facts” were taken straight from the reports. They may need to be verified, as I am not sure of their authenticity.
“The gray whale visits many different places, but the view under water doesn't change much.”
“An angler fish mates for eight days and then the male just attaches himself to the female until his whole body is absorbed by her. Now that's what I call a close relationship.”
“The hammerhead shark doesn't have much of a family life.”
“Sea lions sniff poop to see if it is their baby.”
“Sea anemones will close up its tentacles if you touch it and then it will starve to death, so if you see one you should resist the urge to touch it with your hand. Just use one or two fingers.”
“Once a bottle-nose dolphin saved a baby humpback whale and took it back to its mother.”
“A killer whale eats warm blooded animals to feel warm on the inside.”
“The crown of thorns starfish eats mollusks, which is gross to us but good to them. Also, the female gets up on her tippy-toes on a rock to lay her eggs.”
“If you are in the middle of a pod of narwal whales you will get deaf because they are so loud.”
“Male chimeras have retractable sexual appendages on their foreheads. You can give a man a fish and he might eat it for a meal, but if you show him a raw chimera, he may never eat fish for real!”
“If a shark accidentally bites down on a rock and breaks off all of his teeth they will soon grow back again.”
“Usually, reproducing is all a penguin thinks about.”
“A baby hammerhead can't swim when it is born because it's a sack.”
“Seahorses meet each morning to do the tango – seahorse style!”
Now that's something I'd like to see.
I sort of like helping her with this chore now and then because I always learn something new, plus middle school kids write some pretty funny stuff!
I learned two new things that I didn't know before and my sister verified to be true. For one thing I learned that the green sea turtle has non-retractible limbs. I should have known this because I happen to be somewhat of a sea turtle expert. I have stood in the sand, not three feet from a gigantic turtle as she laid and subsequently buried her eggs. Then I walked beside her as she lumbered back into the sea. It was a life changing experience.
Also, new to my vocabulary, due to the report grading event, is the grouping word “smack.” If one needs to speak of a group of jellyfish, they are called a smack. If you should ever stumble into a smack of jellyfish, believe me you will speak of the experience.
The following “facts” were taken straight from the reports. They may need to be verified, as I am not sure of their authenticity.
“The gray whale visits many different places, but the view under water doesn't change much.”
“An angler fish mates for eight days and then the male just attaches himself to the female until his whole body is absorbed by her. Now that's what I call a close relationship.”
“The hammerhead shark doesn't have much of a family life.”
“Sea lions sniff poop to see if it is their baby.”
“Sea anemones will close up its tentacles if you touch it and then it will starve to death, so if you see one you should resist the urge to touch it with your hand. Just use one or two fingers.”
“Once a bottle-nose dolphin saved a baby humpback whale and took it back to its mother.”
“A killer whale eats warm blooded animals to feel warm on the inside.”
“The crown of thorns starfish eats mollusks, which is gross to us but good to them. Also, the female gets up on her tippy-toes on a rock to lay her eggs.”
“If you are in the middle of a pod of narwal whales you will get deaf because they are so loud.”
“Male chimeras have retractable sexual appendages on their foreheads. You can give a man a fish and he might eat it for a meal, but if you show him a raw chimera, he may never eat fish for real!”
“If a shark accidentally bites down on a rock and breaks off all of his teeth they will soon grow back again.”
“Usually, reproducing is all a penguin thinks about.”
“A baby hammerhead can't swim when it is born because it's a sack.”
“Seahorses meet each morning to do the tango – seahorse style!”
Now that's something I'd like to see.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Flat Jack
Flat Stanley is a children’s book by Jeff Brown, which has been around for a long time. If you have ever taught elementary school you know all about Stanley. Seems a bulletin board fell on him and flattened him. After poor Stanley adjusts to his new flat self, he discovers that it isn’t all that bad to be flat. He can do things that a full-bodied kid can’t do. It isn’t long before he comes up with a little scheme to mail himself to exciting places. These circumstances make for a great plot line. Children love to think of being able to sneak into places covertly.
When my grandson, Jack was in the second grade, his teacher used this book to make a writing assignment interesting and had the children make a flat version of themselves. After they admired one another’s flat alter egos they mailed themselves to another city hoping that they would have a wonderful adventure to write about and ultimately make their own little books.
Jack mailed Flat Jack to San Francisco to visit Uncle Rob. It wasn’t long before I got a frantic phone call. “Mom! We lost Flat Jack! We can’t find him anywhere!” I spoke to Jack’s teacher, who happens to be a friend and an ex colleague. She said that she’d have him make another to add to the project when the pictures of the adventure were returned to school. Since time was short, Rob quickly fashioned a new Flat Jack, using a photograph of Jack’s face for the head. Now Flat Jack looked quite real. Flat, but real.
They took him for an airplane ride. They strapped him in the front seat of their plane, took his picture, and took off. Flat Jack got to fly over and take pictures of The Golden Gate Bridge, Angel Island, Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, and other wonderful San Francisco landmarks.
Then suddenly, horror of horrors, Flat Jack got air sick. Some disgusting paper green stuff spewed forth from his flat little mouth! (Let me tell you here that green stuff spewing from someone’s mouth is prime second grade humor.) The green stuff ended the flight.
They landed and went back to Uncle Rob’s house. There, Flat Jack played with Rob’s puppies, Mellie and Butler. Puppies, being puppies, chewed poor Flat Jack to pieces. The last photo was taken of these pieces scattered all over the floor with the dogs in the background; thus documenting the demise of poor Flat Jack.
His book was a hit, because not only do second graders like to be grossed out by barf, it appears they also enjoy canine dismemberment.
When my grandson, Jack was in the second grade, his teacher used this book to make a writing assignment interesting and had the children make a flat version of themselves. After they admired one another’s flat alter egos they mailed themselves to another city hoping that they would have a wonderful adventure to write about and ultimately make their own little books.
Jack mailed Flat Jack to San Francisco to visit Uncle Rob. It wasn’t long before I got a frantic phone call. “Mom! We lost Flat Jack! We can’t find him anywhere!” I spoke to Jack’s teacher, who happens to be a friend and an ex colleague. She said that she’d have him make another to add to the project when the pictures of the adventure were returned to school. Since time was short, Rob quickly fashioned a new Flat Jack, using a photograph of Jack’s face for the head. Now Flat Jack looked quite real. Flat, but real.
They took him for an airplane ride. They strapped him in the front seat of their plane, took his picture, and took off. Flat Jack got to fly over and take pictures of The Golden Gate Bridge, Angel Island, Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, and other wonderful San Francisco landmarks.
Then suddenly, horror of horrors, Flat Jack got air sick. Some disgusting paper green stuff spewed forth from his flat little mouth! (Let me tell you here that green stuff spewing from someone’s mouth is prime second grade humor.) The green stuff ended the flight.
They landed and went back to Uncle Rob’s house. There, Flat Jack played with Rob’s puppies, Mellie and Butler. Puppies, being puppies, chewed poor Flat Jack to pieces. The last photo was taken of these pieces scattered all over the floor with the dogs in the background; thus documenting the demise of poor Flat Jack.
His book was a hit, because not only do second graders like to be grossed out by barf, it appears they also enjoy canine dismemberment.
Bought the Farm
Farm Report
There is an inspection of the Shasta County property happening as I write this. Richard is pacing up and down with the phone in his hand waiting for Rob to call with the results, and, he hopes, other news.
I have put some books into boxes, only to be told the boxes are too heavy. We have taken one carload of books to the library. We will deliver one more load later. I have started six piles of stuff that I want to give to people but I haven’t made a dent. I am paralyzed. I don’t know what to do next.
During my teaching years, when it was time to go into my classroom to set it up for the new year, I always had to count on going in and spending one whole day sort of standing in the middle of the room and turning in circles wondering what to do and where to start. I suppose I am doing this now only on a grander scale.
The dynamics of this impending move are far reaching. Every day another person cries. The grandchildren are upset. Martie feels abandoned. Richard and I feel guilty, as well as burdened. We also feel that this will eventually be a good move for all of us. We will be down here often to check on things and visit. I will miss Martie’s everyday presence. She is my best friend.
The fax has come with the report on the house. Seems the cowboy who is selling has done his own electrical work. (jerry-rigged) He added the garage without a firewall. There is a container of propane under the stove (much like our barbeque). There is much to be done to this property. I have insisted on a mold inspection, which is not included in the regular inspection. I don’t think my asthma could take mold. Everyone thinks I’m a weenie. Richard could snort mold daily for weeks and never notice it.
Two days have passed since I began this entry. We now have a well water report. WELL? Just exactly how does this well thing work? What if my dogs wee-wee on the ground near this well thing? Does this mean the dog wee will seep down into the well water? Is this well lined with a thick anti-bacterial wall of cement? Does the Sparklettes Water delivery truck come out that far? I am a “City Okie”, as I have told you before.
Don’t any of you DARE plan a trip or cruise without letting us know! I’ll need connections with civilization now and then during this adventure.
It’s just a part of life’s rich pageant!!!!!
There is an inspection of the Shasta County property happening as I write this. Richard is pacing up and down with the phone in his hand waiting for Rob to call with the results, and, he hopes, other news.
I have put some books into boxes, only to be told the boxes are too heavy. We have taken one carload of books to the library. We will deliver one more load later. I have started six piles of stuff that I want to give to people but I haven’t made a dent. I am paralyzed. I don’t know what to do next.
During my teaching years, when it was time to go into my classroom to set it up for the new year, I always had to count on going in and spending one whole day sort of standing in the middle of the room and turning in circles wondering what to do and where to start. I suppose I am doing this now only on a grander scale.
The dynamics of this impending move are far reaching. Every day another person cries. The grandchildren are upset. Martie feels abandoned. Richard and I feel guilty, as well as burdened. We also feel that this will eventually be a good move for all of us. We will be down here often to check on things and visit. I will miss Martie’s everyday presence. She is my best friend.
The fax has come with the report on the house. Seems the cowboy who is selling has done his own electrical work. (jerry-rigged) He added the garage without a firewall. There is a container of propane under the stove (much like our barbeque). There is much to be done to this property. I have insisted on a mold inspection, which is not included in the regular inspection. I don’t think my asthma could take mold. Everyone thinks I’m a weenie. Richard could snort mold daily for weeks and never notice it.
Two days have passed since I began this entry. We now have a well water report. WELL? Just exactly how does this well thing work? What if my dogs wee-wee on the ground near this well thing? Does this mean the dog wee will seep down into the well water? Is this well lined with a thick anti-bacterial wall of cement? Does the Sparklettes Water delivery truck come out that far? I am a “City Okie”, as I have told you before.
Don’t any of you DARE plan a trip or cruise without letting us know! I’ll need connections with civilization now and then during this adventure.
It’s just a part of life’s rich pageant!!!!!
Mothers Day Travel Fiasco
Event in the Life of Lynn
Yesterday, Mother’s Day, I woke early, took a shower, and went to breakfast with Martie, her beau, and the kids. It was entertaining as meal events usually are with Jack and Rachel. They love a captive audience, and their ability to mimic funny lines from movies always makes me laugh.
After breakfast they took me to Long Brach Airport to hop a plane to San Francisco to spend the rest of the day with Rob and Leigh. They had sent me an e-ticket and I had printed it out, given it a glance and tucked it in my purse.
Martie dropped me off at the curb and I went in to check in and get my boarding pass. The lady behind the Jet Blue counter said, “I hope this isn’t for flight 456, because they are closing the doors right now.” (How did she know!?)
It seems I had read the arrival time as the departing time. These things happen with me.
She quickly picked up the phone and asked someone on the flight crew, “Can you take another runner?” Sadly for me the doors were closed and they were pulling away.
She placed my name on the stand-by list for the 3:00 flight, and informed me that I was the fifth name on stand-by.
Now I had to find a phone, as mine has been lost since April 24th. (I called about it and there hasn’t been any activity on it since then, so it’s probably around here somewhere, or I threw it in the recycling bin again.) Try to imagine how difficult it is to find a pay phone in this day and age! Now try to imagine how difficult it is to get someone to give you 8 quarters for $2.00.
When I had found both, I called Rob and told him my predicament. He was ever so patient. He said he’d call around and see what he could find and call me back in ten minutes. Then I had to tell him about my missing cell phone, so he told me to call him back in ten minutes.
When I called him back he said, “Grab a cab and go to LAX. There’s an 11:30 flight on United.”
One half of an hour and $46.00 later, I was at the self check-in at United, reading on the screen that the flight was closed.
Nearing hysteria, I had a conversation with the clerk that started out a bit snippy on her part, but when she looked on her computer screen she suddenly became ever so polite, and said I could proceed to gate #85.
Apparently, Rob flies with them so much that he belongs to some hoity-toity-special-business-boy-club. When I got to the gate, the clerk asked where would I like for my assigned seat to be, and I answered,
“On the plane, please.”
It’s not easy being me.
Yesterday, Mother’s Day, I woke early, took a shower, and went to breakfast with Martie, her beau, and the kids. It was entertaining as meal events usually are with Jack and Rachel. They love a captive audience, and their ability to mimic funny lines from movies always makes me laugh.
After breakfast they took me to Long Brach Airport to hop a plane to San Francisco to spend the rest of the day with Rob and Leigh. They had sent me an e-ticket and I had printed it out, given it a glance and tucked it in my purse.
Martie dropped me off at the curb and I went in to check in and get my boarding pass. The lady behind the Jet Blue counter said, “I hope this isn’t for flight 456, because they are closing the doors right now.” (How did she know!?)
It seems I had read the arrival time as the departing time. These things happen with me.
She quickly picked up the phone and asked someone on the flight crew, “Can you take another runner?” Sadly for me the doors were closed and they were pulling away.
She placed my name on the stand-by list for the 3:00 flight, and informed me that I was the fifth name on stand-by.
Now I had to find a phone, as mine has been lost since April 24th. (I called about it and there hasn’t been any activity on it since then, so it’s probably around here somewhere, or I threw it in the recycling bin again.) Try to imagine how difficult it is to find a pay phone in this day and age! Now try to imagine how difficult it is to get someone to give you 8 quarters for $2.00.
When I had found both, I called Rob and told him my predicament. He was ever so patient. He said he’d call around and see what he could find and call me back in ten minutes. Then I had to tell him about my missing cell phone, so he told me to call him back in ten minutes.
When I called him back he said, “Grab a cab and go to LAX. There’s an 11:30 flight on United.”
One half of an hour and $46.00 later, I was at the self check-in at United, reading on the screen that the flight was closed.
Nearing hysteria, I had a conversation with the clerk that started out a bit snippy on her part, but when she looked on her computer screen she suddenly became ever so polite, and said I could proceed to gate #85.
Apparently, Rob flies with them so much that he belongs to some hoity-toity-special-business-boy-club. When I got to the gate, the clerk asked where would I like for my assigned seat to be, and I answered,
“On the plane, please.”
It’s not easy being me.
Misplaced Queen Latifa
Last Saturday we lost --- well, misplaced one of our cows, Queen Latifa. Richard spent an hour and a half searching the property, looking for her. Frustrated, he made another check of the ponds to make sure that she wasn’t stuck in the mud. We couldn’t figure out where she could be. The rest of the cows were standing around eating the hay he had just put out for them. It just wasn’t like Queenie to miss a meal. Usually the sound of the ATV will cause them all to run happily, for the barn.
Just the fact that she wasn’t with the others was strange. The cows do everything together. If one cow is in the shade of a twiggy little tree the rest of them are all smushed into the same little spot of shade. There may be twenty-five trees in the pasture but it seems that cows will always gather under the same tree. (Probably to gossip.)
If Queenie ran away, they would all run away because of the afore mentioned togetherness thing. They have done this before. They escaped to the neighboring Cow Creek ranch about nine months ago. But the fence has since been repaired and reinforced, thus ending those neighborly visits.
We even thought about the possibility of something like a mountain lion attacking her. After all, it hadn’t been a year since our neighbor, Shannon, had to shoot a lion that attacked and killed her little goat. She dropped it with one shot.
But there would have been evidence of that if it had happened. A mountain lion couldn’t eat a whole cow, no matter how hungry it was.
We decided the cow had been rustled. There was no other explanation. But after more discussion we realized that wasn’t probable either. The way our property is situated, anyone coming in would be noticed. Shannon would see any unusual activity, and she’s armed and dangerous. (We feel comfortable knowing that she is there to protect us.)
So where was the danged cow?
Richard looked depressed. He even said that maybe he should just get out of the cow business. He already has one misplaced heifer. She ran off in a fit of PMS last September or so. We still haven’t been able to locate her. I guess the other cows were afraid to follow her what with her bad mood and all.
He gave up his search and came in to watch the Oklahoma Sooners play Florida for the championship. That didn’t go well for him either. He was glum.
Yesterday morning he went outside and there she was. Queenie the Cow had come home. OK! He was Rancher Richie again. He resumed being his usual jovial self.
This morning he hollered at me from the back deck to come out and see why the cow had been missing. When I looked there was a new calf, a little bitty replica of Queen Latifa was standing right beside her mama! Apparently Mama had been hussying around without our knowledge.
Richard had had her inseminated earlier last year but when she didn’t have a calf when she was supposed to we knew that hadn’t worked. We had no idea that she had taken matters of motherhood into her own hands.
We don’t know if our wanton cow broke some moral rule of cow decency or not, but we don’t really care. The calf is too cute!
Just the fact that she wasn’t with the others was strange. The cows do everything together. If one cow is in the shade of a twiggy little tree the rest of them are all smushed into the same little spot of shade. There may be twenty-five trees in the pasture but it seems that cows will always gather under the same tree. (Probably to gossip.)
If Queenie ran away, they would all run away because of the afore mentioned togetherness thing. They have done this before. They escaped to the neighboring Cow Creek ranch about nine months ago. But the fence has since been repaired and reinforced, thus ending those neighborly visits.
We even thought about the possibility of something like a mountain lion attacking her. After all, it hadn’t been a year since our neighbor, Shannon, had to shoot a lion that attacked and killed her little goat. She dropped it with one shot.
But there would have been evidence of that if it had happened. A mountain lion couldn’t eat a whole cow, no matter how hungry it was.
We decided the cow had been rustled. There was no other explanation. But after more discussion we realized that wasn’t probable either. The way our property is situated, anyone coming in would be noticed. Shannon would see any unusual activity, and she’s armed and dangerous. (We feel comfortable knowing that she is there to protect us.)
So where was the danged cow?
Richard looked depressed. He even said that maybe he should just get out of the cow business. He already has one misplaced heifer. She ran off in a fit of PMS last September or so. We still haven’t been able to locate her. I guess the other cows were afraid to follow her what with her bad mood and all.
He gave up his search and came in to watch the Oklahoma Sooners play Florida for the championship. That didn’t go well for him either. He was glum.
Yesterday morning he went outside and there she was. Queenie the Cow had come home. OK! He was Rancher Richie again. He resumed being his usual jovial self.
This morning he hollered at me from the back deck to come out and see why the cow had been missing. When I looked there was a new calf, a little bitty replica of Queen Latifa was standing right beside her mama! Apparently Mama had been hussying around without our knowledge.
Richard had had her inseminated earlier last year but when she didn’t have a calf when she was supposed to we knew that hadn’t worked. We had no idea that she had taken matters of motherhood into her own hands.
We don’t know if our wanton cow broke some moral rule of cow decency or not, but we don’t really care. The calf is too cute!
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