Welcome back to another edition of Random Post Week! As I was taking a bike ride this evening (fairly free of malicious dogs, I might add), I rode by our lovely 4H fairgrounds. Tomorrow is the start of the fair and things had that bustling feeling of expectation. I LOVE the fair. Eat a little fattening food, chance my life on the carnie rides... But my hands down favorite thing to do is visit the animals and hope that I will get to see a baby cow.
Now, I know they are really called calves. And although I've lived in small Indiana corn-growin' towns pretty much my entire life, I have not had much farm experience. So bear with me, I just love to call them baby cows. I love their big soft eyes and gangly legs...their velvet noses and slurpy tongues. I was totally in love with the calf Norman in City Slickers.
Why? I have no idea. I like animals okay, but I tend to like people better. My earliest memory of cow love started when I was a kid and I made up these animals called Wrinkle Moos. They were much like the cattle with the big horns, but they had shaggy fur and were wrinkled like a Sharpe dog. I used to tell my sister they were out in the backyard, and when she would look I would say they had disappeared. It kind of was our inside joke and made no sense (like most inside jokes, the more non-sensical the better!) and we were probably way too old to be doing such silly things; it lasted way into high school! But...the "moos" became kind of a thing with us. We fondly called each other mooheads and still do to this day.
And out of this was born the habit of mooing at the cows out the car window as we passed by fields. And if there's a baby or two running around...I get a little giddy. Frank seemed to accept this rather nonchalantly when we were dating (to his credit), and two of the cutest little cows adorned our wedding cake. On our honeymoon there was a pasture behind our rented log cabin. One evening after a rainstorm the cows were standing in the mist right by the fence. We stood and "talked" to them for awhile at sunset and it's one of those memories of just complete and utter peace that I have. (udder/utter...yeah...I just noticed that...)
Love cows. LOVE THEM.
So fair week is upon us and I will stalk the cow stalls and some 13 year old will wonder why an otherwise seemingly sane woman will ask them if she can pet their calf and she will get a happy goofy grin on her face and her three small kids will get tired of the cows before she does...
But sometimes you just gotta stop and moo.
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