Can of Worms

Today, hands freezing, I waited outside of the DMV until there was enough room in the lobby to let me in. I got in the front door, waited in the first line, waited in the second line, and then failed my test. So I get to go back tomorrow. I have to take a driving test as well, since I lost my CO license, which isn't showing up in the computer, because, you know, this is NC. After the three hour ordeal, culminating in my, let's say it again, failure (it was a spine tingling finish: I had missed five questions (you miss six and you fail) and I was pondering the answer to the last question, which was asking what percentage of deaths on the road were a result of alcohol. I went back and forth, hovering over each answer with the mouse, until finally clicking. I clicked wrong.), I went home and made myself a delicious lunch (chicken apple sausage, homemade apple sauce, and kale). Then I spent the afternoon with Christina, bride-to be, working on center pieces.

We were making some branchy, twiggy things that will glisten on the tables, after some DIY crafting. We headed out to her farm yard, armed with saws and clippers, and entered the cow pasture (which is quite large and is home to 4 cows) where some of the most twiggy trees are. At the first tree the cows came to visit, led by Curly, a large brown cow. He was quite friendly and wanted his head scratched. This is the type of cow behavior I can handle: head scratching. However, by the third branch, he started charging at us. Christina and I quickly changed plans, abandoning the collection process and trying to make our way back to the fence. Our procedure was to move from tree to tree, cowering at the base where he couldn't get us. I was terrified. This giant cow kept running full force in our direction, only turning at the last minute. He was smart enough, thank goodness, not to run straight into the trees. We had already three giant branches in our arsenal, which we used to keep Curly at bay and worked our way toward the fence, until our trees ran out. There was a huge part of the pasture without any trees that we had to cross to get the fence. And without trees to protect us, we would be taken out quickly. I thought to myself, "I am too young to die this way." The cow was making larger circles, but kept coming back, while Christina and I circled one tree as he attacked, trying not to hit each other with our giant sticks and saws. There were only two options: wait indefinitely for a Beekman family member to come rescue us or launch ourselves across the open space. Finally, Curly made a circle wide enough that we saw our chance to run across the space and throw ourselves over the fence before he could make it back to eat us. It was quite thrilling and I was glad when it was over. I told Christina that I no longer wanted to participate in any pre-wedding activities involving farm animals or running with half a tree in my grasp. I also got cow poop on my hand. That Curly, he is a mean one.

For dinner, I had walnut crusted salmon, garlic zucchini, and creamy potato soup. I wanted a hamburger, in honor of Curly.