Rodeo Without a Marriage Manual

Eventful day, with those two in Dallas.

First of all I have been in utter (udder) worry over the huge bag of Eleanor, as this is the 6th day I have not milked her, having to dry her up now, and it seems to be going down a little. It is not as big as the last time I milked her. I’m not sure if I will milk her out when it really starts to go down, as there are pros and cons for doing so.

The poppies are almost in full bloom.

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The sheep are FAT, being good and staying in the fences and Yvonne had her darling baby which looks like a Holstein.

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I am almost 100% certain that we can call the new baby “Como se” (not that that really is a girl’s llama name or anything) and not Carlll (Llamas in Hats on Youtube), as Nonny wants to call him. Maybe the next one will be a boy and she can name him that. She can also castrate him, as I do not want any more llamas.

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So then to check on the bad Jersey bull (whom I have renamed Fajita de la Septiembre, since no one has answered my ad on Craigslist) and the two bad Highland steers, and the bad horse Evie.

Evie is nervous because she hates being alone. I have been extremely nervous, not wanting to get shot. The cattle market is extremely high, and these cattle ranchers with their fields flowing black with boring pure Angus cows would not appreciate seeing my Jersey bull among their ladies.

I searched for a very long time, and 5 miles or so I found them grazing a field that is for sale (Powderhorn Guest Ranch) and thankfully the gate was open. I called the realtor and told him that we can’t get them until the man gets back with the truck. Whew.

So then, that was the rodeo?

No.

This was.

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Yes, they are growing fast.

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I guess I should pick up all the mouse traps. No, I REALLY need those. hmmmm.

Ok, so what is the marriage manual?

Well, I have been unpacking boxes for days since I don’t have to feed anyone (humans that is) and while living in Dallas so for long, being addicted to Half Price Books, we have a grotesque number of books, one which I just found that might come in handy, if he would only read it.

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I wonder if things had of started right if I had read that almost 30 years ago?

Since I am out of wine, I am going to drink his fancy Organic Chocolate Stout he has in the fridge.

“Hey, Turkey, when ya commin home?” 😉

(update 9:45 pm. Yeagers called and said that the bull and steers are headed past their driveway. Who knows where they will be tomorrow. I guess I’ll have to have a real rodeo tomorrow.)

Perhaps his name will have to be Fajita de Junio.)

I would love to hear your thoughts.

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