When I looked out my window this morning I spied something unexpected – a cow. Not my cow.
This is not the first time in our six years here that it has happened. About two years ago we looked out to see two very white, very lovely Longhorn cows grazing in front of the house. At the time, we had a German foreign exchange student living with us, and to see cows in the front yard confirmed one of his pre-existing ideas about Texans – we are all cowboys.
I have fond feelings for cows. When I was growing up, we often visited my grandparents on their farm near our north Texas town. They owned about 80 acres and ran a small herd of cows. The lowing of cows is a soothing, homey sound for me, as any sound associated with loving grandparents would be.
We live in a rural subdivision, with acreages too small for cows. People here have an inexplicable fondness for goats. However, our property and house are on an outside edge of the subdivision. Some large tracts of undeveloped land lie to the west of us, and on that land live – cows.
Because of this proximity, I get to enjoy the soothing sound of cows calling to one another, without the fuss and expense of owning them. And, because of this proximity, occasionally one of the girls gets out of her pasture and wanders over to say hello to the neighbors.
Then she strolls back home.
Favorite spot in the garden:
Sometimes when gardening, ideas just come to you. I have had this pot for a while, sitting on my front step. It was too short for its location. The other day I bought these violas, and had an epiphany: “Little blue pot!” Then another: “On stool by glider!” Voila! I am very pleased. Little things like this can make my entire week.