Moo

I'll admit I am still that person who yells, "Look! Cows!" every time I see some. I just can't get over it. I love animals, and when I was in grade school we would go to farms on field trips, farms very similar to what James would call home.

We usually go out to the farm for holidays, the whole family, James' dad's side at least. This consists of several uncles and his grandparents and two cousins our age. His uncles are just as country as the next and several of them have farms of their own. One uncle, however, doesn't. He happens to be my favorite uncle (but don't let that get out).

On this particular Thanksgiving everyone was gathering around, grabbing food and talking shop. It gets pretty busy in the kitchen and living room during these holidays and usually you can't hear one person over the next. Suddenly, Uncle Dave, the fav'e, shouts "COWS!" and everyone quiets down but within seconds goes back to their own discussions. I look up and out through the large windows in the front of the living room and yell it, too, "LOOK, COWS!"

mooooooooooo.

Sure enough, there in the front yard were several big ol' cows, meandering their way through the yard, grubbin'. Even for the country folk, this was a surprise. I ran outside and almost beat James's dad out. He rounded up the cows while I petted them and another uncle hopped on a four wheeler to corral them back down the street... back to the limousine farm where they came from (Limousines are a type of cow! Now you know, too!).

Not much of a story, but it is one of my fondest memories of holidays at the farm. It isn't every day you see cattle walking through the front yard.