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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: nihil who wrote (33430)	3/28/1999 9:05:00 AM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 108807

I've told you this already, but I'll say it publicly. I hope my boys are lucky enough to get professors like you in their college years- at least one or two! If you teach with the same consummate skill that you write, you must be incredible. Is there a topic you DON"T know something about? I have a vivid memory of trying to milk a cow when I was about 11. It wasn't at all what I expected! I guess I thought it would be like squeezing air out of a balloon or water out of my Betsy Wetsy. I eventually got a small squirt or two, probably not enough to turn coffee to latte. But I was proud. The cow seemed very big and looked at me with these enormous beautiful brown eyes; then she smacked me with her tail. I still eat hamburger though. I wish suddenly that my boys had had the chance to spend a few weeks on a farm- living and feeling and touching a different kind of life. I think it would do them a world of good to slop out a pig pen. I know I'd enjoy watching.

To: nihil who wrote (33430)	3/28/1999 2:14:00 PM
From: E	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 108807

<<, cattle make wonderful and loving pets >> This line of yours elicited a memory that made me laugh. Years ago we had friends, sophisticated NY types, who decided to change their lives udderly, (sorry, couldn't resist) and sell their extensive libraries and Andy Warhol silk screens, (one of which was of a cow,) and other urban accoutrements and become dairy farmers. They bought a charming spread in upstate New York. It had on it a charming farmhouse and a charming cowbarn or two, and a whole lotta cows. The two memories your cowpost, (look, I'm resisting 'compost'!) brought back to me are these: Each night shortly after it grew dark, very shortly indeed, after it grew dark, we were all required to go to bed. It had to be so insanely early because the cows simply had to be milked at some ungodly hour in the morning. It was a small house, and we could hear the last words said in their room each night, "Ready. Get set. Sleep." They were so exhausted. The other memory was of our hike to a hill that commanded a spectacular view. The hill was adjacent to a pasture frequented by the cows. As it happens, I am afraid of cows. I do believe that cows sense fear. I agreed to hike up that hill only after being reassured that the cows were uninterested in people, and wouldn't be bothering us, but that was a lie; cows are terrorists, in fact! A group of them broke from the herd in the pasture below and charged, like elephants on a rampage, up the hill and straight toward me. As they got nearer and nearer my whimpers turned to screams. I tried to hide behind my braver husband and friends, but the cows forced their way heavily past them to gain proximity to my person, on which they proceeded to wipe their disgusting bodily fluids. Cows have disgusting stuff dripping from their noses and also from more nether orifices. Also they smell unpleasant. Who would want such a pet? I wouldn't want to live in the same town with a cow!