A Note About This Blog

I used to be a writer. Unpublished, but a writer just the same. I have several 100,000 word novels sitting on my hard drive. Then I fell off a horse and got a concussion that scrambled my brains really good (yes, I was wearing a helmet.) After that forming a written sentence was very difficult for quite some time. It's still difficult, but at least now generally the sentence structure isn't egregiously flawed. Verbally and written wrong words pop in, I switch words around, and sometimes I make no sense at all. It isn't because I don't have knowledge of grammar and punctuation, but my brain simply can't do it sometimes. Reading this blog you're accepting that there's going to be things that look like typos or make no sense. It's not because I don't proofread, it's because my damaged brain doesn't see what's wrong. I try my best, but things will slip through. I don't need them pointed out, I know they're there, but if I continued to worry about them I wouldn't write at all. I didn't for quite some time. It's painful as a past master of words to use them so badly, but fortunately the words don't seem to mind.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Connecticut Fun, Probably Part 1

I'm in Connecticut visiting my parents, which means I got to visit the cows. Once upon a time I actually preferred cows to horses. They are always happy to see you due to their curiosity when sometimes horses aren't quite as enthusiastic.

They're chopping hay into silage right now, so I hung out in the truck with my dad as he drove loads from the field back to the farm. My cousin's wife brought us Dunkin Donuts iced coffee. Civilization has reached our little rural corner and it felt so odd to have coffee in the truck.



Of course, I couldn't be at the farm without actually visiting the cows. I finally met my three current cows, descendants of my original two cows born in 1987 and 1989. I'm selling them to my dad, years after I probably should have, but I enjoyed still having a connection. But now, due to my bitch aunt who seems incapable of naming my cows what I want them named, I'm going to get rid of them. I used to name every cow on that farm (with my deceased aunt) and current in-law aunt can't even name them what I want? I get so rage filled over this I've decided I need to let them go.

LB2 Stands for Lightbulb 2. Her name should be Lamp or something. I had a line of cows all with light related names. Started with Lumiere, then there was Lightbulb, Lantern, Lumen...

Leader? Seriously? I would never name one of my cows this.

Leggo, which should be spelled Lego
Anyway, okay, I'm going to try to calm down the rage here...

Milk cows on the hill

Heifer standing in the manger

Not my cow, but she was being photogenic
The above calf should be a purebred Jersey, but they're not quite sure. It sure doesn't look like one. Sometimes when a cow won't get bred they'll do a "hail mary" and just inseminate the cow with whatever spare semen is sitting around in my cousin's truck. This calf was part of a pair of twins and the other didn't survive, they often lose both, so it's pretty cool she's still around. And, she's pretty damn cool looking.

There was also a one day old calf









It wouldn't be a farm without a rusted out truck. Though this one has lichen too!


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