Improvements

I have some ideas I’d like to run by you, about improving War and Peace

  1. The Prince should be a vampire.
  2. We should add Jonathan Strange, this book needs a magician! 
  3. All of the men should be women. 
  4. All of the women should still be women. 
  5. All of the swords should be cats. 

This way, War and Peace will be the best book ever. 

That is all. 

I resemble that person-

I went to have lunch with my daughter at school, and as I was signing in, the secretary said,

“Oh, great article on you!”

“What?”

“In the newspaper.”

So, I dropped by the gas station and picked up a copy, and FRONT PAGE! THAT’S ME!

The sheep is Candy Darling.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, The Town of Primrose is holding its annual meeting???!!! How did I not know about this sooner?

Matt Geiger came and interviewed me about a month ago, and he did mention he wanted to put me on the front page, but I didn’t quite believe it until I saw it.

First, Mount Horeb, then the world!

Maybe…

This is Net. 

This afternoon, my daughter and I played a friendly game of, Let’s Spread Out That Net We Found at the Dumps Today and See How Big It Is! 

For better or worse, we don’t have trash service. The up side is that we find treasures occasionally. I’ve been wanting some netting to prop up the hops plants. I brought this net home from the dumps in the truck. It was heavy. 

We spread it out on the lawn. It was surprisingly great in size.

Zanimal pretended she was a giant squid. I caught her in my net. She was delighted. 


No tricks of the camera; this net is big! Bigger than our whole yard in Madison. 

There were several holes in it. The holes were mended with quick connectors and ropes. Zanimal collected all of the quick connectors. (The hops won’t care if there are holes.) 

She gathered them together and tied them around her waist with a rope. 

Now she’s trying to sell all of the quick connectors back to me, fifty cents each. I told her I didn’t have any cash. Bad Assed Husband backed me up, 

“It’s true,” he said. “We’re living in a post-cash society.” 

I appreciated that. Solidarity is important when parenting. 

Ghost Cow, or Something More?

I’ve been keeping the sheep in some flimsy, portable fencing during the day, and then going out before dark and herding them into more secure fencing for the night. This evening, while binge  watching Parks and Recreation, I forgot to go outside and secure them before dark. I went out late, and the sheep were all there, ridiculously happy to see me. But there was something else out there, too, and it freaked me out.

I heard something breathing at me from the east. I pointed the flashlight at it. Nothing there. But still, the breathing, 

Hastily, I secured the sheep, and then hesitated. I pointed the flashlight again towards the east, but there was nothing. Just an empty field. Then, sticks breaking. Whatever it was, it was large and broke sticks when it walked. 

I went inside the big fence, and walked back toward the house inside the fence, surrounded by sheep with big horns who like me. Would they defend me, if pressed to? Or would they let it eat me? I wished I had brought a large stick. 

Still, the breathing. It sounded like a horse. Then the footsteps in the forest again. My neighbors don’t keep horses. Or anything, for that matter. 

I reached a point where I had to go outside of the fence again to get home. I did so, quickly. I pretended to be large and imposing. But I am not large and imposing.

Finally, home! Safe inside, I realized my heart was racing and I was totally out of breath! 

What was it? An escaped neighbor’s cow? A bear? But why couldn’t I see it with the flashlight?

I don’t know. 

It was scary. 

I’m still recovering from the Ghost Cow.

Top Ten Reasons I Love Parks and Recreation

  1. Leslie and Ann Perkins are like the friendship I wish I ever had with… someone.
  2. They drink more than I do!
  3. Andy is more unrealistic about his career than I am!
  4. I will marry Ron. In my next life. When Parks and Rec is real and I am named Tammy. 
  5. My daughter loves it so much, between that and watching farm animals, I don’t have to teach her a thing about the facts of life!
  6. Chris also enjoys carob and berries as a dessert alternative, just like I do!
  7. In my next life, I will be Donna.(Except of course my name will be a Tammy.)
  8. April is really a daemon possessing Ron’s mind. I learned that from watching Legion. 
  9. Gary/Larry/Jerry is so sweet. And a great artist. 
  10. Enthusiasm is good. Leslie is the most enthusiastic person on fictional Earth. And that is a wonderful thing. 

Bonus: “There has never been a sadness that could not be cured by breakfast foods.”

Dr. H’s Moby-Dick

“Call me Ishmael,” he said. “It’s not my name, but call me Ishmael! Bwa ha!” He tooted the last part, a silly little laugh. He was a smallish guy. He looked like a cute little rat. Cute little middle aged chain smoking coffee drinking slightly perverted but clearly adorable, absurdly intelligent rat. The kind of rat you would want in your pocket while you presented your PhD dissertation, even though he would make you giggle at the wrong times. 

That was the first day of class. It was summer school, so there were about twelve students, ten of whom were bronze, mostly naked off-season snowboard girls. I went to an obscure, third rate college, high in the mountains of Colorado. The summer school uniform was a sports bra and running shorts. The only jewelry allowed was toe rings. 

One of the mostly naked amazonians with a toe-ringed foot sitting on the seat in front of her said,

“This syllabus is all Moby-Dick. I thought this was American Lit?” 

“Moby-Dick is American literature. Herman Melville was an American.”

“Yeah, but…”

“So! Bwa ha! Page one. ‘Call me Ishmael.’,  best opening line of any book ever. But let’s go back to the title: ‘Moby-Dick or The Whale.’” 

Somehow, Dr. H. made the title dirty. I guess it wasn’t such a stretch- with a name like Moby-Dick. But every time he said it, it seemed to have an extra emphasis on the Dick. And yet, he was so charming about it. With his little laugh, Bwa Ha! 

“This is basically a novel about sex, posing as a fishing novel, bwa ha!” 

That summer, we went through every page of Moby-Dick, coming up with endless sexual allusions, metaphors and innuendos. And then there was the occasional Jesus Christ allusion. And then back to sex.

Sometimes, you would see him outside of class. He was like a broken man, hunched over his coffee, cigarette in hand. Oh, poor Dr. H, one might think. Them you would see him again, Monday morning, a new man! Refreshed! 

“Moby-Dick! Bwa ha!”

Summer school classes were four days a week, Monday thru Thursday. It was full sperm whale immersion. 

The best part about Moby-Dick with Dr. H was that Moby-Dick was basically incomprehensible long-winded tuttle fuddy. The whale doesn’t even appear for the first fourteen billion pages! But, once you heard Dr. H’s amazing explanations of each and every page, it was the most fascinating thing ever written. 

In the end, I learned five things from Dr. H:

1. Moby-Dick is full of metaphors, most of them sexual.

2. It’s okay, even great, to laugh at your own jokes.

3. The more you learn about some things, the more interesting they become.

4. Moby-Dick is the best book ever written. (I believed that for a month.)

5. Sometimes, a rubber chicken makes everything better.

It happened two and a half years later. I was in Senior Thesis. It was held in a conference room. We sat around a large table. Dark. It was a darkly held conference room. Squinting, we contemplated primary sources. 

“Blah blah blah blah,” were the professor’s exact words. The professor was not Dr. H. Suddenly, the door burst open and a life-sized rubber chicken flew through the doorway and landed in the center of our conference table. The door slammed shut. We heard a laugh,

“Bwa ha!” And the pitter-patter of cute rat-like feet running down the hallway. 

A long-forgotten joy welled within me. Mysteries of land and sea, life and death, opened up once again. The winter ice around my heart was melting. A large rubber chicken lay in the middle of a conference room table, like a great, white sperm whale. 

Moby-Dick. 

Oh, man playing recorder coming out of washing machine, how relevant you are to my life!

Goose! 

Today’s comic is Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt. 


If you click on this, you can watch the goose move! 

I spent much of the day with my husband, taking apart our old washing machine. Also, Zanimal is at that point in fourth grade when they make you play the recorder. Also, GOOSE! Am I right? 

In case you didn’t believe me, here’s a small, blurry picture of BAH taking apart the old washing machine. 


It’s in the back of a truck, and he’s taking the metal exterior off if it, to get to the motor. Then we put the barrel outside, to use as a planter. We’re undecided what to plant in it. Anyway, I’m excited, because I can use the little farm truck again! It’s had that washing machine in the back of it all winter, which was fine, but now it’s farm trucking season again! (I.e. There’s a lot of work to do, like filling it with poop and dumping it on the garden, but let’s make it sound fun.) 

GOOSE! 

Goose makes everything sound fun.