Cows and their Cud

Emil wanted to be sure to see Aunt Reta one more time before she leaves this week, so on Sunday afternoon we climbed into the half-ton and drove out to Neil and Rose's northeast of Margo, my home town.

On the way we passed several swathers out cutting canola, and a small herd of cattle.

"Mom," says Emil. "Do cows chew their cud standing up?"

I don't know, says I. They probably lie down to do it, says I.

"Shayla, Kathy Hoffman's daughter, says they chew it standing up too," he says.

Maybe they do, says I. We'll ask Scott. He'll know for sure.

Stay tuned for the definitive answer from the Cow Boy himself.

My cousin Heather and one of her two girlysues were leaving Neil and Rose's around the same time as Emil and I were. 

When we got home, my brother Cameron arrived from Alberta to spend the night.

Making his breakfast this morning

Today he's gone golfing — it's a gorgeous day, not too hot, not too cold, and not too windy — and then will go see Neil and Rose, and I expect will be back here sometime tomorrow, and Reta too.

I'm baking a batch of bread to send home with him. It'll be out of the oven in an hour and then I'm heading outside. It's just the right weather for this Goldilocks to take a walk.

Whenever my ex-hub Gord is out here, I give him several loaves of bread and say "Give Cameron a loaf or two."
Cameron says, "What? That s.o.b.! He never has. He's not getting any of these."
They live in the same condo complex in St. Albert.