tales from the cow keeper

Okay, so I totally stole that title from my good bud, Jayme.

But she doesn't mind. She's cool that way.

Plus, she consulted her lawyers and they said she couldn't stop me without extensive litigation.

It's true though, I am a cow keeper. For the moment anyway.

More on that in a minute, because I found a surprise in the greenhouse yesterday. A fully blooming, lush and gorgeous bleeding heart. It was in my old potting soil bucket under the bench. Apparently this bleeding heart was going incognito last fall when I was dumping out pots of dead, shriveled up flowers. I'm pretty sure I didn't purposely try to kill one of my very favorite plants of all time.

I love, love bleeding heart.


Bleeding heart is also one of my favorite plants to photograph, what with row after row of adorable little hearts all lined up and waiting for a photo shoot.


See? Adorable.

But, back to the keeping of the cows.

The Meadowbrook Farmer has been gone since Saturday, which leaves me in charge of the farm. Sounds like a big job, right? Are you envisioning lots of chores and tractor driving? If you are, you would be mistaken.

Basically, my job consists of taking a walking tour of the back field to make sure everyone is present and accounted for, and also keeping an eye out for any mama who might be entertaining the crazy notion of having her calf a bit early.

At least that's the official job description. My version adds the task of keeping an eye on the bull at all times, (without making eye contact), while dodging cow pies and keeping my daisy boots mud free.

Here are my daisy boots a year ago. They do not look like this anymore.


So sad.

So, even though I failed miserably on the mud front, the upside is that the bull didn't even look my way today. Yesterday, he looked my way and that always makes me nervous.

I don't like the bull. I don't like the look in his eye.

I'm pretty sure he's up to no good.

But I do like my bleeding heart, and it doesn't make me nervous even one little bit.


In other farm news, my refrigerator is dying. It's freezing things that aren't in the freezer, and in case you were wondering, frozen lettuce is not happy lettuce. Apparently, this is a sign that its days are numbered, so I'm in the market for a new one.

Any thoughts on the french door top, freezer drawer in the bottom style? It seems like a pretty good design, but I'd love to hear from someone who actually has one.


With my hubby gone, it's just been me and Junior Number Three. Which pretty much means it's just been me. Junior has quite the social life lately and if he's not with his friends, he's at five hour play practices (opening night is next week).


He was sweet enough to turn down a Saturday night invitation to spend the night with a friend because he didn't think I'd want to spend the night all alone in the house. I guess he didn't know I'd made my peace with the Boogie Man years ago. At this point, I'm all, "Bring it on, Boogie Man! Give me all you've got, because I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

It did, however, make me think back to my babysitting days when I'd get myself so freaked out that I'd sit in a corner with a fireplace poker in my hands. That level of paranoia may directly correlate to the fact that after the kids were in bed, I'd watch all the scary movies that my parents were smart enough not to let me watch at home.

Word of advice to any highly imaginative teenagers out there....don't watch baby sitter themed horror movies whilst baby sitting.

You will pay a very high price.

You will also pay a high price if, as a newlywed, you choose to watch The Shining with your new husband. Because you know what? Those new husbands? They go to work the next day, and it's hard to get Jack Nicholson and his axe out of your mind even in broad daylight.


For the most part, I stay away from the scary movies these days. However, a couple years ago, my bff and I did go to see the new version of "When a Stranger Calls" just for kicks and ended up watching the whole movie through our fingers.

Did you know it's scientifically proven that if you watch something scary through your fingers it makes it less scary?

Okay, maybe it's not scientifically proven, but it sure sounds like a study that Congress would spend our tax dollars on, doesn't it?


Well, I have no earthly idea how a post that started out with flowers and cows ended up with boogie men and scary movies.


But now you've got me curious.

Are you a scary movie watcher?

Do you let your imagination get the best of you when you're home alone and hear a noise?

Or, are you brave and strong and down to earth and no nonsense about such things?

This will be fun!