Sunday, 19 October 2008


I was listening to the radio, as I do every morning, and I half heard an advert for The Warwick Rodeo. Click here if you like rodeos or read on if you have no idea what the sweaty horse thing is about. I must admit I have a thing for cowboys but the whole bucking bronco, riding bull thing and falling on your arse in the dirt while clowns spring in to action is a little too surreal me. Anyway – back to the advert. They listed the events – you know horses doing horse stuff etc – and then they mentioned wild cow milking. What the? Wild. Cow. Milking. Huh?

I am a city girl. My natural environment is cement so that I had not heard of wild cow milking did not surprise me. Wild – I understand and my understanding of cows is that they have four legs, an udder and look utterly bored as they chew grass. However the concept of a ‘wild cow’ going all crazy was beyond me. Though, do you remember that song years ago called ‘Cows with Guns?’ We loved that in Oz. Click
here for a reminder. So maybe cows can be wild. What do I know? I only see the end product in the supermarket.

So I went and searched Google and found wild cow milking. It exists. I know. It surprised me too. I thought I had been having a dizzy spell when I heard it. After reading about it two thoughts came to mind. What is the point? And is this a joke?
This is wild cow milking and frankly I cannot believe grown men want to chase a pissed off and no doubt frightened cow to milk it. What is the point? Please explain? Is it a test of manhood to run and squirt milk? Can you not milk it when it’s still or is there some amazing thing like the milk turns to milk shakes when the cow runs? I really want to know. Please email me if you can explain it to me for I see no point in running around and traumatizing a cow. Surely there must be saddles that need cleaning or whatever cowboys do? Wild cow milking – just weird and wrong - go and read a book or something and leave the cow alone. Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?

On to other stuff….

I believe I saw the first snake of Summer. Actually I am preferring to call it a really long lizard as that’s a more comforting thought. I don’t like snakes.
They’re icky.

Hmm…what else…mowed the lawn, did some painting and made a half arsed effort to clean the house just in case someone comes to visit me after the op next week – even though everyone has been forbidden to do so – I want the house vaguely clean so there will be no lawsuits if unplanned people trip over stuff on the floor.

So, that’s my boring arsed Sunday and joy on freaking joy tomorrow is pukeable Monday can life get any better?
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?