This morning, after working in the New Year all night, I came home to find the cows in the newer part of the pasture. The bull was sniffing the backside of a young he-calf so I hope he hasn't gone queer in 2007. They had ventured into the kudzoo patch, standing there skeptical about why they had even been allowed into this fruitless deadfall area. All were present except Panic who probably had flashbacks of loading chutes when they started through the narrow slit leading there.
What a life when I choose to write about cows sniffing each other's butts! I should be writing about working all night and coming home crawling into bed and making passionate love with my man. But somehow that doesn't ring true for January 1, 2007. He's more concerned with Alabama's coaching status and Toprol and Norvasc and Glucophage and Minipress and Librax.
Haley has learned to dial our phone number now so we get a lot of calls. Hayden loves tractors. Mother is excited about George Jones in July. Luke had some worries about his body recently with his latest strep visit. Amanda is starting school soon. Jamby answers 911 calls with one hand and I-won't-say-what with the other. Jennifer didn't come for Christmas. My brother Joe gave me some Sherlock Holmes CD's to listen to driving home and the narrator keeps mentioning the work "ejaculate" in a context I don't understand so I've gotta hit the online dictionary. And Terri needs a baby.
New Years' Resolution: to be a better WMU director.
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