And oh, how those calves liked to head butt as they were drinking their baby bottle. They would head butt and heat butt those bottles and since we were, most of the time, dozing, as we stood there feeding those cows before the sun was even up, more often than not, those giant bottles would plop into the dirt. So, off I would trudge the length of that backyard, which at 5:00 am, felt like the route of the NYC marathon.
Now that I look back, I'm thinking...stinkin' cows.
So, fast forward to the future and my cowgirl experience had now come in handy. I made my chuckin' cow noises. I grabbed those bad boys by the fleshy spot behind their ears. They bucked a little, but I just grabbed a little firmer, letting them know who was in charge and I led them off the road to one of the houses lining the country path.
Now, here's where it gets good.
I knocked on one door that had an open gate in its backyard. No one was home, so I took my cows and headed over to the next house. A woman answered the door, seemingly unsurprised, as if she often had visitors showing up holding onto their cows. I explained to her that I had found these cows in the road and asked if perchance, they were hers.
Without even batting an eye, she told me Internet, no they were not hers. They were her neighbors who weren't home but, "Just go on and put them in my backyard with the llamas. I'll take care of em till they get home."
That's right, the llamas.
And I did just that, staying as far away from the creepy llamas as possible. I then hurried back to the car where my babies sat watching their mamma wrangle some calves.
That house sold out a few years ago to a zero-lot-line greed-meister.
Last week, a local Facebook friend informed us there was a shooting at the neighborhood park near her house. We old towners on Facebook bemoaned the fact that our small town has drifted away.
The Hubby and I have our sights set on Northern California. The day is looming up ahead, still a little dim light, but growing brighter every moment. We will find us a small town with ambience and charm and the beautiful grapes of that valley. But, until then...every once and awhile, my small town pops back up, showing its charming face.
A few months back, a guy in a pickup truck decided to do a u-turn on our property. My Hubby came across him right after he ran over our water pipe- the one that stands 3 feet off the ground, the one that I have no earthly idea how he managed to overlook the white pipes as large as a first grader. He damaged his truck and we had no water for a few hours.
My Hubby came down to report to me the news that we had no water thanks to the obviously blind guy in the pickup truck. He handed me the guy's business card and my eyes lingered over the blind dude's last name.
As My Hubby walked out the door to get back to Stevie Wonder who was waiting for AAA to tow him. (seriously, a three foot water pump), I yelled, "Ask him, if he's related to 'Dehlia.'"
A little while later my phone rang, it was My Hubby at the top of the road, "Yeah, Jim here says, 'Dehlia' is his second cousin twice removed." This is how we do it in the South every cousin is assigned a number and every cousin is removed a couple of times over. And what any of that means, I have no utter idea.
I then informed My Hubby that 'Dehlia', had been the talk of our old Bronco cheerleading team when, in learning to drive, she had mistaken the gas for the brake and had ran her father's car straight through their kitchen.
My Hubby delighted in reporting this back to Jim while I was still on the phone. Jim said, "Yeah, I'd heard somethin' about that."
My Hubby didn't even pause when he said, "Dude, it must be a genetic trait."
I'm no geneticist, but I don't think jacked up driving is a genetic trait like male pattern baldness.
I told Jim to give "Dehlia" my best when he came back the next day with a check to pay for the pump damages.
So, there's still that. The fact that it's hard to get away with anything in this town. It's why I try to never beep my horn at anyone no matter how douchey they're driving. Someone might just tell my mom I was rude.
Today's Definite Download: "Feels Like Home" by Randy Newman and Bonnie Raitt. Randy Newman is incomparable in songwriting and then you add, Bonnie Raitt and well...you have splendor.
And because wherever I lay my hat, my sweet memories will always be with those stinkin' cows and that crapload of brothers and sisters of mine and those sweaty, hot wrestlers and all the beauty of a place that was once the perfect small town.