Old Hippie Begins Employment at NASA

I got it! But my blog is still sucking. Sitting here, thinking about my farm to be and how the stars are gonna look at night because there are no lights anywhere around there and no people! No people! It won't suck, I can tell you that. I have lived in a town for two years now and my neighbors are the freaking parking police. I hadn't lived here for TWO MINUTES before my neighbor came over and TOLD me to move my car because apparently, ONE of my tires was two inches on his property where he possesses numerous parking spaces and has ONE car while we possess NO parking spaces and have three cars. And he is here for exactly two weeks per year, thank God, but still didn't want my car which is the size of a freaking chihuahua near his property! So much for Southern hospitality! The next day, the neighbor around the corner came over and told me my fence wasn't high enough for my dogs. My dogs are LABS! He was afraid the Labs would get out and maul him, apparently! Only if you have a hoagie in your pocket, pal. So that's what my welcome to a neighborhood in a town where there are people went. SO....when we get to the farm NO ONE will tell me where to park or I will bust a cap in their ass because it's all mine. Did I tell you it was all mine? Can't wait to get my cows. 

The Rental Space on these F@#$%^g Blogs!

Will someone PLEASE tell me WTF amount I am supposed to fill in there? Do you just make up a random number off the top of your head? If I could figure out how to finish this, I would be applying to NASA, not sitting alone in my house banging this keyboard! Help people!

Don't Turn Your Back On Bossy!

 We are starting an Organic Grass Fed Angus Cattle Farm in our late 50's. If that's not stupid enough for you, it gets worse. I have begun researching the buying of the stock online, not in person. Of course, when we actually go get these girls in real time, we are dragging along an old cattleman with us because he has told us some pretty scary stuff about cows or "cattle" as they are called when raised for beef. Oh, and incidentally? I don't believe in killing things. I'm one of those nuts who brings cockroaches outside instead of stomping them to death. So, I promise you when these girls have had a great year-and-a-half of frolicking in the sunshine with their BFF's guess who will be NOWHERE in sight when the stock truck pulls up to take them to market? Back to why you need to be on your P's and Q's around these girls. There's alot more than meets the eye with cattle and cows in general. Did you know that at least 20 people per year are killed by cows? My entire life I had thought of cows as completely docile, cud-chewing aunties, but our rancher friend told us that if he didn't come with us to pick out the "nice" cows at auction, we are screwed. What? Aren't they all nice? No way, he says. There are some that just study you waiting for you to make one wrong move and then bango! You should never turn your back on any of them, he says. Like any mother wanting to protect her offspring, she will stomp you into a red, moist spot in the dust if you get between she and her calf, should you pick out one with an axe to grind toward us humans. And why shouldn't she grind her axe? It's not like our track record is so great, eating them all these years. And the bulls? While some of them are big, dumb jocks who's only role in life is to whack the cows, others are worthy of PBR events with names like "Terminator" and those boys are usually freezer bound, poor guys.  I remember once as a girl, cutting through a particulary bucolic looking pasture in upstate NY (where my heart rests the best) and seeing a herd of cows, thinking it was a good idea to stop and gawk at them. Big mistake, sistuh. Somehow I managed to outrun Mr. Bull who, I'm guessing, was just prancing around trying to impress the ladies and could have sent me to Valhalla in short shrift if he really wanted to. Maybe he knew I had suffered enough humiliation when I soiled my britches hauling ass over the fence, but that 's just a guess. Later.