We got a second calf! Or my younger daughter did, anyway. This calf will be her project, so she was responsible for tracking down farmers and sending queries. She finally found a farm on the other side of the county with newborns for sale, and last week she and my husband and son went to pick it up.

They weren’t well prepared (no surprise there): the calf shat all over the back of the van — aka the newly named Shitmobile — and they had to pull over and wrap the wriggly critter in tarp. 

She’s a cross — between which breeds, we’re not sure — and totally adorbs, with her turned-up nose and big brown eyes. My daughter named her Butterscotch.

We weren’t at all sure that Daisy would let the new calf nurse, so the first evening after my son finished milking, we put the calf in with her. With Daisy restrained, the calf nursed fine, and Daisy didn’t seem all that bothered.

And then the very next day, the kids saw the calf nursing on its own!

We’re still continuing to bring Butterscotch in after milking time to make sure she gets a chance to eat. But half the time she’s not even interested so we’re guessing she’s getting plenty throughout the day. Also, her pee is plentiful and clear so she’s obviously hydrated.

With a second calf, it means that we’ll soon be able to nix the evening milking altogether, and eventually we’ll be able to skip morning milkings, too, should we decide to go somewhere or take a break: we’ll just leave them together overnight and the calves will be able to keep up with the supply on their own. Also, a cow-fed calf means my daughter gets to raise an animal pretty much for free, which is nice.

This same time, years previous: flying, flashfloods, and fireballs, rocking the house, pinned, chocolate peanut butter sandwich cookies, the quotidian (5.18.15), help, a burger, a play, and some bagels, my favorite things, strawberry spinach salad.

Cook’s Illustrated recently ran a little blurb about how xanthan gum keeps things like salad dressings and smoothies and homemade yogurt creamy and emulsified, and it eliminates the ice crystals in homemade ice cream, so I followed their directions to make a little of it (I had some in the freezer leftover from my husband’s brief foray into the world of gluten-free eating) into a gel: two cups of water whirled in the blender with one tablespoons of xanthan gum. Almost immediately, it transformed into a snot-like viscus mass which I transferred to a jar and stored in the fridge.

Now I just add a teaspoon or so to anything that needs a boost of creaminess. So far, this has only included ice cream and fruit sauce — I’m hardly an expert — but still, that counts, right? The gloop is weird and mildly creepy, but, best I can tell, it shouldn’t kill us. (I hope.)

***

Every time I hear the intro to Schitt’s Creek or see one of the characters or hear a reference, it’s like I’ve been injected with a shot of joy. I start grinning and can’t stop; I feel like a fool — I know I look like a fool — but I’m too happy to care. 

***

I found a hair product that works! When my hair is still sopping wet, I massage a couple generous squirts into my hair (for some reason, I’ve always felt like product makes hair gross, but that is not the case!), scrunch thoroughly, and then let it air dry. For years, I haven’t touched my hair with a brush, but now I also not longer even pick it out. Instead, each morning I wet my hair with fistfuls of water, do a comb-through with my fingers, and work in just a touch of product.

The curls are loving it.

***

I recently came across this girl and promptly fell down a rabbit hole listening to all her songs. I kept feeling like she reminded me of something, and then I realized: The Commitments! What a kid.

***

With one of the 30+ horses that she’s in charge of this week.

We’re going on a family vacation!!! To Massachusetts, of course, to see our daughter, and New Hampshire to visit my husband’s brother’s family, then on up to Maine to stay at a friend’s place and do all the exotic Mainey things like boat around a cove and eat lobster rolls and dig for clams and visit quaint bakeries. The last couple days, we’ll head back to Boston where we’ll go whale watching — when I told my daughter about the whale watching she was like, “Seriously? We’re going to go on a vacation and do touristy things like a normal family?!” — and take in the city sights. If you knows of any off-the-beaten-trail gems (food! hikes! little coves! etc), tell me! 

This same time, years previous: the coronavirus diaries: week ten, the quotidian (5.13.19), the quotidian (5.14.18), driving home the point, Captain Morgan’s rhubarb sours, crock pot pulled venison, people watching and baby slinging.

Hello, friends. How’s everyone doing?

^{photo credit: my younger daughter}

Right now I’m…

Lamenting….  that I can’t run because, o woe, it appears that I’ve strained a hamstring. Ever since I started Ultimate, I’ve noticed that the back of my leg was a little sore but I just chalked it up to being out of shape. But then I kept playing, and then I tried to drop kick my husband the other night — that hurt. Then yesterday when I tried to go running, I made it from the front gate to the driveway and was like, Nope, that’s not happening. So now, for the first time in maybe forever, I have an honest-to-goodness injury. I’m hoping, if I’m real good, I’ll be better in a week or two. That’s realistic, right? (Please say yes.)

Dreading… my impending mental breakdown due to the aforementioned leg injury and the resulting inability to run, WAAAAAH. 

Watching… Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. I thought it’d be heavy, in a disturbing sort of way, so I was surprised that I ended up loving it. The acting was marvelous and it had a delightful “play” vibe, probably because that’s what it was written to be. (It actually felt Shakespearean.) It made me miss theaters. Acting, too.

Canceling… (some of) our evening plans because HELLO GAS SHORTAGE. (When I explained the situation to my younger son, his first question was about the hackers: “Are they environmentalists?”) One slight tweak and the whole world gets laid up. Or at least that’s how it feels. (Says the woman with a strained hamstring.) From what I hear, this should be resolved within a few days, but in the meantime, us country folk have got to conserve. Only work trips, for now. 

Basking… in the afterglow of a string of maskless gatherings: our small group gathering for an indoor meal where only two people, younguns who haven’t been fully vaxxed, wore masks and the rest of us were free, free, freeeeeeee; my parents popping in for a quick viz; a girlfriend from out-of-state; a weeknight supper with friends, and then last minute my older son deciding to come, too, along with some of his friends. It’s all so utterly normal — the casual invites, the mingling, the sitting around a dinner table — and yet wildly luxurious. It’s quite the buzz.

Starting… almost every social interaction with, “Can I hug you?” And then, when they say yes, squeezing them practically to death. The way I carry on, you’d think I haven’t been hugged in a year! Oh WAIT. 

Savoring… the leftovers from a sudden flurry of Indian cooking. It all started with the paneer I made on Sunday, because once you make some paneer then you need the saag to go with it (and then the rice and the butter chicken and the spicy Indian potatoes and the fresh na’an from a downtown deli). And then our friends came for supper and, without knowing we’d be having Indian food, brought a bag of frozen paratha. Serendipity strikes!

Craving… bran. I know, weird, right? But I was playing with bran muffins at work and all the taste testing and leftover mini cakes that I brought home and ate for breakfast with tons of butter just whet my appetite for more. I have three bran muffin recipes in the files, but I kinda think I might want a fourth. Something special, yet simple. Ideas?

Reading… The Memory Police. I’d heard it was a page-turner, but nope. I just can’t get into it. 

Regretting… trying to watch The Da Vinci Code for our family night movie. I somehow totally forgot about its sinister edge. We quit, but not before inadvertently scarring a child or two for life. Oops. 

Coming to the conclusion that… it’s time I splurge on a good bag. I always go for something small and then it gets way too full and bulky and I can never find what I want or carry all the things I need. I want one that will last — something like this, or this — but those prices, ouch! 

Celebrating… that vaccines are approved for children ages 12-15! Any day now, we’ll be able to register our younger son for his appointment. LET’S GO, PEOPLE!!!!!

Making… pepperoni rolls for supper. What are you having?

This same time, years previous: when there’s “nothing” to eat, prism glasses, on getting a teen out of bed in the morning, the quotidian (5.12.14), happy weekending, one more thing, the reason I got up, springy dip, for a reason.