Lives in a Shoe

Memorial Day

I remember Mrs. Abel, fourth grade teacher, who forced us to memorize this.  Although at the time it was only schoolwork, the beautiful words have lived in my consciousness and now I honor their meaning.  I can still recite it, too.

Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation: conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war. . .testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated. . . can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate. . .we cannot consecrate. . . we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . . and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth.

The Tale of Elmer Cudd

George, bless his heart, had surprised me with my very own cow, the beautiful and headstrong Margaret Thatcher.  He didn't know that you can't have only one cow, so when Margaret's herdmates were taken away to begin their life in the dairy, poor solitary Margaret ran the fence and cried and cried...

Desperate, George contacted a client who had a dairy herd which included a little steer we could borrow until Margaret had her calf.  Then we'd give him back (oh, right).  When the little guy -- about six months old, confused and frightened -- stepped out of the trailer he let out a small cry.  Margaret lifted her head at the sound and came running, all knock-knees and swinging udder.  Just before the people left with the trailer I thought to ask what the steer's name was.  The lady looked kind of perplexed and said, "Well, Bubba, I guess."  I didn't know that male calves are commonly called bubba calves and thought it was a real name.  Margaret and the little Bubba guy touched noses and a deep friendship started.

He deserved a real name, so he is Elmer Cudd -- but we still call him Bubba. Bub grew and grew -- I learned that Holstein steers grow so large that they had been used as oxen to pull wagons.  A gentle giant, he is sensitive and shy, affectionate and loyal. He trusts me to brush him and scratch his chin and feed him bread.  Sometimes if he's been especially good I treat him to some of those little fruit pies you can get at the 7-Eleven.  Apple is his favorite.  He likes to smell my hair if I've used a scented shampoo or perfume.  In the warmer months I sometimes bring a book up to the field when he is reclining and use him as a backrest.  I used to bring him treats in a pocketed apron -- Bub would go behind me and untie the strings.  He did this again and again -- he has a finely-developed sense of humor and loved the prank.  He is demonstrative and loving -- a vet once said, "I've never seen such an emotional steer..."

We think he weighs about 2500 pounds.

Here he is with Margaret, who is herself a good-sized cow.

For Mary's Mother

(Ignore the date printed bottom right.  New camera and I haven't read the instructions yet.)

Looking from the living room into the kitchen.  Mary and George are sitting at the counter and Larry is perched on the kitchen cupboard by the sink.  Delilah Pearl's crate is on the other side of the couch, with two snoozing cats atop.  Baker and Little Mister, I think.  The furniture arrangement looked a lot better without the crate, that's for sure -- but if you love a large dog and the dog needs a large crate, well...you put the crate smack in the middle of your living area.  You just do.

Behind Mary is the door leading to the deck.  Beyond the kitchen, off to the right just this side of where Larry is, there is tiny hallway leading to the bathroom and the bedroom.

You can see the cheery little red propane stove -- the EDBD model.

A real estate salesperson would call the 500 square foot houselet "cozy".  Yeah, we'll go with that.  Cozy.