From the BBC NEWS
comes this startling claim:
Cows have regional accents like humans,
language specialists have suggested.
Click on the link to read the article. You can hear the proof.
MOO. . .
I’ve driven by this field a few times this year. I finally stopped to photograph it.
Click on the photo for a better view.
What they took for inattentiveness was a miracle of concentration.
—– Toni Morrison
Have you ever watched a cat stalk a bird? Every muscle, every tendon, every heartbeat is focused on the prey.
Have you ever watched a cat stretch after a nap? Every muscle, every tendon, every heartbeat is involved in the stretch.
Sometimes when we are totally concentrating on a task we may seem rude and inattentive. Yet we are wholly present. We are present to our moment of focus.
These moments of complete focus are magical moments and frequently are times when we experience the oneness with our Higher Power and the process of the universe. We are totally within ourselves, and we are totally beyond ourselves.
I REJOICE for the moments of total oneness. I am truly myself when within and beyond myself.
Directly from Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much -
by Anne Wilson Schaef
(except for Rocky)
Even the mud is welcome. . . These photos were taken last year. The mudholes are the same, but no blue skies today. It’s still raining.
Words & music by Emmylou Harris
I don’t want to hear a love song
I got on this airplane just to fly
And I know there’s life below me
But all that it can show me
Is the prairie and the sky
I don’t want to hear a sad story
Full of heartbreak and desire
The last time I felt like this
It was in the wilderness and the canyon was on fire
And I stood on the mountain in the night and I watched it burn
I watched it burn, I watched it burn.
I would rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
I would hold my life in his saving grace.
I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham
If I thought I could see, I could see your face.
Well you really got me this time
And the hardest part is knowing I’ll survive.
I have come to listen for the sound
Of the trucks as they move down
Out on Highway ninety five
And pretend that it’s the ocean
coming down to wash me clean, to wash me clean
Do you know what I mean
I would rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
I would hold my life in his saving grace.
I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham
If I thought I could see, I could see your face.
Charles J. Mauro died on September 11th, 2001. I didn’t know him. He and I had three things in common - Brooklyn, Catholic school and working in the Financial District. What little I’ve learned about him was gleaned from these online sources.
Charlie was only thirty eight when he was killed. He was a husband, a friend, a boss, a son. He was taken much too soon.
**********************
May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
Bob Dylan/Copyright © 1973 Ram’s Horn Music
Yesterday morning started out well. The first order of the day was to get the raccoon out of the trap. I’ve learned to do that before I let the dogs out. The dogs aren’t happy about it, but it makes my life easier. Later in the morning, I was wishing that I had my camera in my pocket.
There were two Sandhill Cranes in the hayfield that wouldn’t have needed a zoom lens to capture. One was dancing, hopping and popping. The link has better photos than I could have taken, and you can listen to them, too.
In the afternoon, I started walking to the mailbox, when I noticed a snake in the driveway. Once again, I lamented that my camera was in the house - for about two seconds. No time for a Kodak moment. . .
This was not the snake in my driveway, I don’t know if they were related (they did meet the same fate).
The adrenaline was pumping. I needed to get the dogs in the house now. For reasons known only to them, all three went in when I told them to. I grabbed my shovel from the Mule.
Then I looked down. Oh no, that won’t do. . .
These lovely feet aren’t mine, the image is from Sue’s Sparkler.
I ran into the house and put my boots on my bare feet and over my jeans. Not as stylish, but safer. I contemplated my pistol, but thought better of it. The snake had moved a bit further in and was not happy to see me. I was happy that it had not gone into the tall grass a few inches away. A few minutes later I let the dogs back out.
In the early evening I went through the heifers with Lucky on the Mule. A few days ago I pointed out a heifer to Lynn. She was very heavy with calf. I put the bulls in on the 20th of May. She apparently was bred before we weaned last November. Uh-oh. . . I left the pasture and dropped Lucky back at the house and called Lynn. Who probably wished that he hadn’t answered the phone.
“Lynn - it’s Karen - the heifer- she’s starting to calve - I’m gonna need help - I had to drop the dog back at the house - I don’t know how long she’s been at it - she doesn’t seem to be trying - I’m on my way back down there - she’s got one foot out - I’ll get her in the corral - or the barn - see you there.”
I was born in NY - not only can I talk fast - I’m pretty good with run-on sentences.
I had the cattle moved when Lynn arrived. I think that the bulls had been bugging her in the pasture. We got her in the barn without any problem. She laid down and looked like she was going to give it a go. We left her alone while we went to irrigate. When we returned to the barn she was a changed heifer. No, she didn’t have her calf - she simply decided that she wanted to beat the snot out of us. After a few hairy moments we got her in the maternity pen. We got straps on the calf’s feet and Lynn started pulling. Then we started pulling. Mama pushed a little. The calf was huge - and very much alive. As soon as we got its head out it let us know that it wasn’t thrilled with any of us. The calf came easily to about its shoulders. That was it. I got the calf puller off the wall and fumbled with it. Lynn pulled, Mama pushed, I pulled, we ratcheted, the feet slipped out of the straps, we started over. Finally - it’s a girl! We brought the calf to a pen and released Mama, who still wanted to run us over. She went in with the calf, and we left them alone. Sitting on the Mule, dirty and tired, I said to Lynn, ” I hope none of the other heifers are that pregnant”.
I filled a bucket with oats and went to the barn. I gave Mama some water and hay. I saw that she hadn’t licked the calf, so I poured oats on it. A couple hours later I went back and saw that the oats were gone and the calf was now lying beside her. I gave her more water and went home to bed. When I checked in the morning the calf was nursing.