thursday morning
This morning, I logged on to Anon. Rowhouse to find that Rose has gone and done it. She deleted her blog for the foreseeable... ever. So her link is gone.
She's been wrestling with it (the decision) for the last couple of weeks and while I'm sad to see it go, I get it. There's a lot of give to having a blog. And I suppose after 2 years of spilling it all for the masses to see and trying to find an entertaining and appealing forum to lay it all out in gets to be more than a person wants to deal with. Especially after 2 years. I doubt I'll be here for that long. Let's have a moment of peace for the passing of the Rowhouse, shall we?
As for butt-hurt and her wily ways. My hurt feelings are passed, much soothed by the comment Merce left in the previous post. Probably more so by TOM starting. I realize that I can't control what anyone, except myself, does. And should people choose to mix with her, that is their choice. They've seen what has come before and may God help them, you know he suffers fools. As to her, I'll try to keep my venom from spilling over here anymore, well, unless she does something spectacularly stupid, from which I cannot hide my glee. I realize that I've dedicated way too much space and time to someone so undeserving. I also realize that I am becoming monotonous and ugly about it. For that I apologize.
Last night it snowed a little. Driving in it was like watching the beginning of some space show or something where you are traveling through space and the stars are whizzing past you. Except, at times, it was so thick (the snow) that my head spun a little and made driving a risky endeavor. What with chancy roads and my inability to drive a straight line.
Calves have started dropping and while I hear it all day-to-day on the radio, yesterday, I saw MY first one of the year. A little black fella, curled into his mama's side. He was out of the AI (artificial insemination) cows, which are first timers. He had a crowd of curious bovine noses poking at him for a good long time, I think.
Cows are strange animals. To look at them, with their long eyelashes and doe-like eyes, along with big bellies and a tendency to meander about, you'd think they are so gentle and quiet. Which for the most part they are. But some of them are wild and crazy and chase people on horses straight up the straight side of a mountain, leaping rock avalanches and all.
I like to watch them in relation to their calves. They have such a humanistic trait to them. When calves are fairly small, before they start eating hay, all the mama cows will group together and leave the babies with a babysitter so that they can go eat or go to water or whatever. Then one will come back and replace her, then one to replace her and so on and so forth. And they call out to their kiddies. They have a special 'moo' that is just for their babies and to watch them call their babes back to their sides... Well, it's just so damn sweet to me and fitting, what with those big, puppy eyes.
I love this time of year. Animals remind me of the cycles of life, and when I think of spring, I think of all these little buggers kicking and bucking their way across a field full of grass shoots. It reminds me of what my dad has fought for all the year long, all his life long, really. It makes me remember that I am proud of what we do here, beef markets and Mad cow disease be damned. It makes me proud to be part of a dying breed and a dying profession.
She's been wrestling with it (the decision) for the last couple of weeks and while I'm sad to see it go, I get it. There's a lot of give to having a blog. And I suppose after 2 years of spilling it all for the masses to see and trying to find an entertaining and appealing forum to lay it all out in gets to be more than a person wants to deal with. Especially after 2 years. I doubt I'll be here for that long. Let's have a moment of peace for the passing of the Rowhouse, shall we?
As for butt-hurt and her wily ways. My hurt feelings are passed, much soothed by the comment Merce left in the previous post. Probably more so by TOM starting. I realize that I can't control what anyone, except myself, does. And should people choose to mix with her, that is their choice. They've seen what has come before and may God help them, you know he suffers fools. As to her, I'll try to keep my venom from spilling over here anymore, well, unless she does something spectacularly stupid, from which I cannot hide my glee. I realize that I've dedicated way too much space and time to someone so undeserving. I also realize that I am becoming monotonous and ugly about it. For that I apologize.
Last night it snowed a little. Driving in it was like watching the beginning of some space show or something where you are traveling through space and the stars are whizzing past you. Except, at times, it was so thick (the snow) that my head spun a little and made driving a risky endeavor. What with chancy roads and my inability to drive a straight line.
Calves have started dropping and while I hear it all day-to-day on the radio, yesterday, I saw MY first one of the year. A little black fella, curled into his mama's side. He was out of the AI (artificial insemination) cows, which are first timers. He had a crowd of curious bovine noses poking at him for a good long time, I think.
Cows are strange animals. To look at them, with their long eyelashes and doe-like eyes, along with big bellies and a tendency to meander about, you'd think they are so gentle and quiet. Which for the most part they are. But some of them are wild and crazy and chase people on horses straight up the straight side of a mountain, leaping rock avalanches and all.
I like to watch them in relation to their calves. They have such a humanistic trait to them. When calves are fairly small, before they start eating hay, all the mama cows will group together and leave the babies with a babysitter so that they can go eat or go to water or whatever. Then one will come back and replace her, then one to replace her and so on and so forth. And they call out to their kiddies. They have a special 'moo' that is just for their babies and to watch them call their babes back to their sides... Well, it's just so damn sweet to me and fitting, what with those big, puppy eyes.
I love this time of year. Animals remind me of the cycles of life, and when I think of spring, I think of all these little buggers kicking and bucking their way across a field full of grass shoots. It reminds me of what my dad has fought for all the year long, all his life long, really. It makes me remember that I am proud of what we do here, beef markets and Mad cow disease be damned. It makes me proud to be part of a dying breed and a dying profession.
posted by Lori | 6:34 AM
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