Marslean insisted on taking a camper trip with us to keep on eye on Mr. C. Cow. She was still a little dismayed over his holiday obsession and wanted to see what kind of mischief he would get into. This feeling intensified the morning of our trip when she woke up to find that the cream and sugar for her coffee was neatly wrapped up in tiny boxes.
I came up with a compromise that would benefit both parties (and my sanity). Mr. C. Cow had to promise to stop wrapping random items around the house. Marslean promised to get more into the spirit of things since her window curtains would stay up in the windows instead of being wrapped up with a bow.
Our first stop on our Santa search tour was a “direct to the North Pole” mailbox. I know what you’re thinking. Mr. C. Cow had said that he felt more comfortable discussing his naughty or nice issues in person. Part of the Cow/Pegasus compromise involved finding Santa AND also mailing a letter. I think that Marslean was worried that, if he didn’t find the jolly guy, he might be out of luck in the wanted presents department. I’m glad she thought to cover all of the bases.
After the letter mailing was complete we ran into a few things while Mr. C. Cow was poking around looking for a guy who employed eight tiny reindeer:
A bear loitering outside of a bakery…..
And a Rudolph owned small sleigh business.
The bear was loitering because she was waiting for the day old stale donuts to get thrown away. I, personally, would rather pay for a fresh donut instead of a dumpster donut but to each their own. Since the donut dumping was taking so long I bought her one when I got ours.
As for the Rudolph sleigh business, it was not a racket but an authentic small business that was started side business. Reindeer owned and horse pulled. It was nice to see horses have the opportunity to earn a little extra cash to buy their foals presents. At fifteen cents a ride it seemed like a steal.
Sadly, no Santa was spotted, but our holiday dispute between Mr. C. Cow and Marslean was fixed. We still have a lot of holiday season to go so we’re not worried!
Mr. C. Cow is holiday OBSESSED when it comes to Christmas. As soon as Thanksgiving leftovers are put away he’s already putting up the holiday tree. He’s baked five dozen sugar cookies before breakfast the next morning. By lunchtime he’s somehow managed to wrap his cow horns in wrapping paper. I’m cool with his need to start decorating but it drives Marslean a tad bit nuts. Especially when she comes home to find the pillows on her bed neatly wrapped.
On top of his holiday enthusiasm, we always go through the entire month of December camper traveling to find Santa Claus. It was done last year and the year before that. Searching for Ol’ Saint Nick is just something that Mr. C. Cow feels he has to do. A letter or email won’t do when he wants to discuss how he’s behaved (mostly) the entire year. This also drives Marslean crazy. She’s attempted to explain to him that an email is perfectly fine. Nope. Emailing is not going to happen. (Does Mr. C. Cow have an email?) We’re on the lookout for the jolly guy in the red suit once again.
Maybe we can get Marslean to go with us on a few of our Santa hunting adventures. It might make her appreciate Mr. C. Cows fascination with the red suited man. It would help me out because there would be two of us trying to chase after him as he’s running after a sleigh.
It’s almost Thanksgiving in the states and we’ve been busy baking pies and tracing hand turkeys. Making a hand turkey is tough when you’ve got hooves or otter hands. Bishop makes a pretty wicked looking turkey with his giant polar bear paws. You have to lay out four pieces of paper just to make his whole hand fit.
Since Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks I asked everyone to share three things that they are thankful for.
Low wind days when you have to fly to the grocery store
Decent WiFi signals
Mr. C. Cow is thankful for…
Free snack vendors
We are all thankful for so many different things but have one thing in common. Each other. We are thankful to have each other. We’re also thankful for all of you that read our postcards every week. Without friendship, love, and all of you none of this would be possible.
With an enormous camper comes enormous responsibilities. If you’re going to drive a camper you need to make sure that your backing up skills are on point. Parking skills must be polished. Knowing how to properly read warning signs so you don’t run off of a cliff or into a zombie horde.
When Mr. C. Cow drives I worry that he’ll forget to use his side mirrors. One of these days he’s going to merge into something unmergable. Until he remembers that side mirrors are your friend he’s restricted to driving in little to no traffic.
There are so many other things you need to remember when driving a camper. Always be aware of how tall your vehicle is. Getting stuck under a bridge does not make you friends. It consistently makes people upset and costs a lot of money to repair damages. Also pay attention to height limit signs at parking garages. I once hit a parking height sign while driving a van. A lovely woman yelled words at me that I cannot repeat here in polite company. This has made me extremely aware of how tall my vehicle is. My advice is to not try to park a camper in a parking garage.
There is a camper driving habit that I am desperate for Mr. C. Cow to break. I can understand driving through tunnels while on the highway. It beats trying to take a vehicle straight up a mountain. What Mr. C. doesn’t understand is that you don’t always have to drive through a tunnel. Or in his case, drive off the road and into a cave.
Driving off of the road to go into cave is not responsible. When that cave looks like a giant skull about to eat your vehicle it is not only irresponsible but it is reckless. Mr. C. Cow thinks it’s fun. I think that, one day, something is going to eat us.
I hope that, if you plan on purchasing a camper in the future, you are a responsible owner/driver. Beware of low bridges. Learn to back up correctly. Don’t drive into caves with teeth.
I am exasperated over all of the rain we have had these past few days. The sun has decided to take a vacation from our neck of the woods. The sky has looked like night decided to overstay its welcome and my hair has frizzed out WAY beyond the normal, safe levels. My locks have been on “defcon puff” alert so much that the alarms have not stopped warning me that my entire head may be taken over by a hair army. It’s wet out.
Side Note: I hate it when it is “misting” outside. Either rain or go home weather! Go all in or get out!
When my hair gets to critical mass and Mr. C. Cow is moo-crying over his hoofs getting muddy we know it’s not the weather for us. One time I caught Mr. C. Cow washing his muddy hoofs in the kitchen sink. This takes considerable stretching exercises beforehand to be able to put a hoof in a sink. It might get dirt all over the place but at least he’s exercising.
When it showers outside I like to curl up with a good book. Maybe a glass of wine. Wrap myself up like a fuzzy blanket burrito on the couch. Mr. C. Cow is the complete opposite. It’s like precipitation drives him bonkers. He has to do EVERYTHING all at once. Put together a puzzle while playing cards. Bake a cake and a pie while tap dancing in the kitchen. When it’s not raining outside he’s more than content to be a lump on the floor watching television. I’m not sure if precipitation hyperactivity is a thing but it sure is for him.
So far today he’s reorganized the spice cupboard in alphabetical order and made a reminder list to remind himself to make a list to remember. If Mr. C. Cow is going to get so wound up then I might be able to get him to clean his muddy hoof prints off the kitchen ceiling.
Fall is in the air and it’s one of the best seasons of the year to hit up a farmers market.
I know that Summer is also a good time. Spring isn’t bad either. Autumn markets are the prime time for buying if you’re into the squash, pumpkins, and brussels sprouts. They are also great for those of us who have to plan a unique and enormous Thanksgiving holiday menu. When you have guests that don’t eat meat, are usually considered the “main entrée”, and won’t eat asparagus (Who doesn’t like asparagus??!!??) it can be a challenge.
Mr. C. Cow went with me on what he called my “squash quest” to start planning the holiday feast. I think he only wanted to come along because it involves food and questing. Anything that he considers a “quest” always needs a heroic cow sidekick. I don’t know how much protection I need on a “squash quest” but I’ll take the extra set of helping hoofs to carry groceries.
As luck has it I was able to get a good idea on what to serve this year without it involving meat or (sigh) asparagus. No warlocks tried to block my way to the market. Not a single booby trap was tripped while walking from the camper. We didn’t even see any forbidding signs telling us to “beware”. I think the quest protection was not needed but Mr. C. Cow said his being there was working.
Speaking of Mr. C. Cow, he seemed to find the whole farmers market thing amusing. Before you could say “But I like asparagus!” he was standing next to a cart juggling gourds. I don’t think the gourd seller appreciated it until I gave him a few dollars for the juggled produce. When Mr. C. attempted to trade an old shoestring he found in his pocket for an apple from an agitated orchard grower, I was able to distract him with snacks.
Holiday meal planning takes a lot of time and effort when you’re trying to do the best you can for all of your family and friends. I’m glad I have enough time to get a menu all planned out. Maybe Mr. C. Cow can resist the urge to haggle or juggle the next time we’re at a market and help me out. At least he kept me safe from warlocks.
Marslean is the one that asked that we not serve any asparagus at this years meal. I don’t think we’ve ever served it for Thanksgiving but she insisted it not be on the table. After explaining that it wasn’t even in season, she was still adamant that we not serve it. I’m going to have to find out if this is a taste thing or a fear thing. If it’s fear then would it be “asparagaphobia”?
I apologize for the lack of a postcard last week Thursday. Mr. C. Cow has been taking typing lessons and spend the entire day practicing. He’s trying to get his “words per minute” speed up from three to ten. Typing with hoofs can’t be easy and finding out that words like “dfa;ejoiardd” and “areraeasdereeee” are not real can be frustrating. Mr. C. could use “talk to type” but he’s determined to do it on his own. I’m glad he’s putting a little effort into it with the classes and practice.
Since Mr. C. Cow was preoccupied with his work, I spent the day at a petting zoo feeding the animals. I must say that I never thought this would be a relaxing way to pass the time. Normally this would be a stressed filled activity involving the feeding of wildlife as well as the feeding of Mr. C. I should call it “expensive and stressful”.
Being an otter, I am naturally curious as to why other animals choose the career path of professional zoo animal. A pro zoo animal is hard enough but being a pro petting zoo animal must be harder. Not only do you have to be on public display but people are always trying to pet you. I don’t even like it when someone touches my beehive. Germs is another reason why I could never take this type of work. Who knows where those hands have been!
I asked a lot of different animals why they decided to get into the professional petting zoo field. The chipmunks were all about the free food. A llama told me it was for the great dental benefits. One goat told me she was doing it to help pay for her liberal arts degree. I can understand the need to make a living. More power to all you zoo animals out there!
When I returned from my educational excursion, Mr. C. Cow was eating a peanut butter banana sandwich and watching old reruns of “As The Cowbell Tings”. Sneaking a peek at his timed typing practice quizzes, I noticed he increased his word count from three to a solid twelve. In celebration of his mastery over a keyboard I should take him to the petting zoo sometime. With extra food to keep the costs down and a cocktail to calm my nerves.