Desecration Day
It’s Coming…
I was chatting with a pal via email, and bemoaning the fact that our calving season starts Friday. A rather auspicious start, I’d say.
In the world of registered cattle, each birth year has a letter associated with it. The theory is that you can easily tell how old a particular bovine is simply by their registered name.
2017 is an ‘E’ year for us. Feeling a bit morose, I started doodling some names.
‘Electoral Coward’
‘Election Fraud’
‘Erectile Dysfunction’
‘Egregious Calamity’
‘Egbert’
Okay, so the last one reflects my obsession with ‘Vikings’, but hey, you get the idea.
But, I decided it wasn’t fair to a poor, innocent calf to saddle it with such awful names. Plus, only Egbert meets the length requirement, the rest being too long, when combined with our ranch name.
There are protests organized locally, in Eugene and Corvallis on Desecration Day. I, however, will be home with expectant moo moms.
I shall, however, dress in my black hoodies, and I’m headed to BiMart today to pick up a pair of black sweatpants. I sent an email to the manufacturer of our flagpole to ask, finally (been 5 years), how to bring the flag to half mast.
I will not be watching while the Ungreat Satan plops its cloven hoof on the Bible — hey, might such a thing cause it to spontaneously combust? — and destroys our once great nation by spewing the words of our destruction.
With any luck at all, I will be shoulder deep up the back end of a cow, which just seems right.
