Let me just say something about Lisa's cows.
They are so spoiled.
Nobody claims otherwise. Yesterday, I was standing in the hay mow which looks out onto the bedding pack. All the cows were in, patiently waiting for milking. Wait -- they weren't "patiently waiting." They were lounging. They don't give a good goddamn what happens as long as they are comfortable. Bird's eye view is a funny perspective for looking at cows: their bodies look even wider than usual, spread out on the ground as they lay. You could say they are lazy. Why else would one remain lying down while pooping? But no, not lazy, just secure in their knowledge that soon some poor fool human will come running along, apologizing for being late, manure fork in hand. Sometimes I'm picking the pack while they're standing around, and I'll see a tail lift, and over I go with my fork, to put it down on the ground behind the cow. I say, "Here, let me get that for you." Who else has someone to catch their crap before it hits the ground? I tell you.
I bet they wish I were Hindu. According to Mohandas Gandhi, "the central fact of Hinduism is cow protection."
Look: "At festivals commemorating Krishna's role as protector of cattle, priests mold the god's likeness out of cattle dung, pour milk over the navel, and crawl around it on the floor....the priests say that to take care of a cow is in itself a form of worship, and that no household should deny itself the spiritual enjoyment which comes from raising one."
That's a little education from The Sacred Cow and the Abominable Pig, by Marvin Harris.
I haven't tried the deity-making yet, but I do connect with the spirit when working with these animals (and all animals). If I didn't receive milk at work, I would want a family cow. Peter the cheesemaker didn't quite laugh at me the other day when I told him how I want a Randall Lineback cow. Randall Lineback! The original Vermont cow. Think that could be a marketing plug? They are so pretty with their black noses and brindle. And they don't give too much milk. I told Peter they were dual purpose and he said, "you mean, beef." Ha-ha, Peter. I don't know if we'll actually get one, but I'm still going to go visit the ones that were brought to Taylor Farm.
Well, time to drink more tea and bring in wood. Why does the sickie get the wood chores today? Because she's at home and we need wood. Oh well. I love being at home so much that even being sick isn't so bad.