And so it begins...



The cows are going to slaughter. Actually, just the calfs go. This seems so aweful if you are a pet lover, but these cows are not pets, they are car payments. So Albert took 8 youngins off to market this morning. This means nothin to him, he lives on the other farm. Me, however, it means a lot to because I live here where the babies were taken from. My husband is to work so he is laughing that I am stuck on the farm. Why is it such a big deal? The mothers cry for their young for three days. They don't cry like boo hoo. They cry like moo moo. It is how they call their young when they are too far away from the heard or time to eat or lost. So they will look and cry for three days...and nights. They will break away from the heard and go looking for the youngins so that they are all discombobulated. They roam all over the place crying for their young...and all night. Sometimes they get stuck right outside my window...all night. Luckily, I can scare em off if it gets too much, but still, it is loud and it is painful. And it is three days of mooing...and three nights.