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This is Lonnie. He’s a real farmer. And that’s Londa. She’s a real farmgirl.


These are real cows.

Lonnie: The black ones are Angus. The white ones are Charolais. Some of them are mixed.
Me: Which ones are the ornamental cows? I want an ornamental cow for my meadow.
Lonnie: What?

Mother Cow: There is a disturbance in the force.

Me: Would you like to be my ornamental cow?
Mother Cow: Let’s get out of here.

Mother Cow: HURRY! She’s following!!

Me: Fine. Go. I’ll settle for driving this big macho tractor.

Okay, I can’t really drive a tractor.

Black and White Cow: Stop looking at me. I’m not an ornamental cow, either.

Mother Cow: She’s back. She’s stalking us.

Mother Cow: Get moving!
Me: Fine. Just fine! I like these fluffy Charolais cows better anyway! Look! Two sweet babies!

Me: Do you want to be my ornamental cows? C’mon…. I have sweet hay! I’ll call you Cream Puff and Taffy and I’ll let you dot my meadow.
Lonnie: Cream Puff? Taffy?
Me: Shhhhhh.

They’re thinking about it!
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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