Cleo's Last Day

Mom and I have been to cousin Leo's farm for the last two days. I got one bedroom cleaned out and mom kind of wandered around unsure of where to begin.

The little farmer, Allen, who has been caring for Cleo has an appointment today for Cleo. She won't be coming back. I hate that we couldn't find a better option, but we were able to work out with the estate that Allen pays for the processing and gets to keep the meat. At least Cleo's remains will go to a good home. Allen and his family do not have much in their lives and I suppose this is the best option for Cleo.

We had considered taking her to mom's farm, but the barn isn't heated and the cost of feeding her isn't cheap. Plus, mom keeps animals until they die on their own, so then how do you bury a 1,000 pound cow? Then we had an offer from the woman in Tennessee. But she had another cow and Cleo had no way to protect herself and the local farmers said the other cows bullied her. She may have died of fright in the long trailer ride to Tennessee.

I was up before dawn this morning thinking about how hard the farmer's life is. I was also thinking about how my blog on the fundraiser was like a country song. I also thought about taking a trip. I also thought about my 'luigi' for Cleo. I guess I do have ADD.

The Fundraiser

I volunteered at a fundraiser today. It was for a family of a woman recently killed in a house fire. She initially escaped the fire, but then went back in because she thought one of her sons was inside. She never re-emerged, her body was found just feet away from the door. Her three sons survived, and the son she had run back into the fire to search for was at the bar looking for his dad to try to prevent him from getting another DUI. The police quickly discovered that her husband (and the boys’ dad) was the one who had set the fire.

There were over 200 people at the fund raiser. I talked to an aunt who had made 32 pounds of sloppy joes. She had taken the boys in. I told her that I had heard their dad was the murderer, and she began to cry, the boys’ dad was her brother. (Oops, foot in mouth as usual.) She said the shame and horror of it had crushed their family.

There was a fundraising baseball game and a dinner for $10. There were raffles, and silent auctions and a 50/50, where money used to buy a chance is split with 50% going to the family and the other 50% going to the holder of the ticket drawn (the pot was $250 and the winner donated it back to the family). My job was to help set up and then to “guard” the valuable raffle prizes. They were great items, with three autographed footballs, four autographed NFL pictures, two autographed baseballs, and an autographed bobblehead –plus a bunch of craft items. Although the crowd was not wealthy by any means, they were very generous. All the funds raised will be matched by a Lutheran financial non-profit organization.

Living in a small town where people do such wonderful things for each other is very much like living in a military community. We take care of one another.

Birthday Evening

My mom threw me a little party for my birthday tonight. She made apple crisp, her friend Marilee made a cake, and mom and her other friend Shirley each bought a frozen pizza to be cooked at the VFW. Mom also brought a jar of her homemade pickles. It was a really nice party. This is my third birthday in a row without Bob. Maybe next year.

When I got back to the lakehouse today, I noticed the doors to every room were closed and the drains on the sinks were all closed and the sinks filled with water. Hmmmm...I called mom. She had come to my house to check on things while I was away and heard a noise that she thought was probably a bat. So, she filled the sinks with water so that it would drown itself. Then she called my neighbors, Jerry and Shirley, and left them a message asking them to get in the house and kill the bat. Jerry came over and figured out that the smoke detector needed batteries and was making noises. Whew, no bat.

I couldn't talk to mom tonight about Cleo the cow because her friends would make fun of us. I got her alone for a bit and told her about what had happened and she felt like the Tennessee option sounded great because the person was originally from Wisconsin. We'll have to talk more soon. Mom's first response was that we needed to call off the slaughter immediately.

Kim Just Wouldn't Listen

A quick update regarding my sister Kim's ad on Craigslist regarding Cleo the Cow. She has gotten responses. One person said she could donate money for Cleo but wanted to ensure this was legit. Another from Tennessee who rescues dogs and lives on 14 acres with one rescued bull said she could take Cleo in early November when she brings the next batch of rescued dogs to Wisconsin. Another from Michigan is asking her grandma if they can take Cleo. Then, my a-hole friend Rob (who paid to rent-a-cow in Switzerland) contacted Kim saying to deliver Cleo to Germany as 2 inch thick t-bones.

Last night, I told Kim not to do the Craigslist ad. Now what do we do? The estate expects some money to come from the beef. We have no idea if any of these people are legit (other than Rob) and we may send Cleo to slaughter anyways. And how do we get Cleo to ride all the way to Tennessee or Michigan when she runs away as you approach her? She'd probably die from shock at the experience. And then, what if Cleo ends up in Tennessee and that bull rapes her? It's amazing, I thought we were the only freaks on earth that would try to save a cow.

Tonight it's my birthday (which is what we were celebrating last night) and I'm meeting mom out. I'm going to have to break this news to her. More to follow.

Cleo Still Alive

I have been traveling for the past couple of weeks and didn't dare to hear anything about Cleo the cow. I called mom once and she said she hadn't asked because she thought Cleo was probably slaughtered. Mom said she drove by the slaughterhouse and couldn't look. Well, today, I talked to mom and she said that Cleo lives. The farmer, Allen, who was told by the big wig lawyer to put Cleo to market, did not follow orders. Mainly because he felt he had no authority or money to do so. (Processing a cow isn't cheap, you know, plus the cost of hauling her).

So, I'm in Milwaukee with my sisters and brother and my sister Kim and I did a great ad on Craigslist to find a home for Cleo. Yep, we did have a couple glasses of wine to enhance our creative writing, but we think it's only a matter of hours before we begin to hear from people who want to send money or sponsor our cow. We wrote the ad to appeal to the patriotic, God-fearing, disabled, lonely, vegans, and animal-loving farmers.

http://milwaukee.craigslist.org/pet/870700887.html

Plus, one other option exists. I just heard from my friend Rob in Germany and he was recently in Switzerland and "rented" a cow. For a not so small fee, he gets cheese from all the milk she produces. http://www.usatoday.com/tech/webguide/internetlife/2003-07-14-cows-internet_x.htm

I think we could possibly start this in the states with Cleo being the first producer. We may have to buy Kraft cheese to trick the renters (would slices wrapped in cellephane be too obvious), but anyone stupid enough to rent a cow won't know the difference.

We have only a few days to act. The new execution date is Tuesday, October 14th.

Homecoming Dance

My niece Julia is 15 and going to the Homecoming dance tonight. First, she bought a dress, next, had to buy the shoes that matched. Then, put that on-- and of course she needed the accessories, like earrings, necklace and bracelet. Why, for crying out loud, you can’t have the complete look without getting hair, nails and makeup done.

And then, you go to the dance. Kick off the shoes, chip the nails, and sweat off the makeup and hairdo.

Well, my life is on a parallel. I first stripped the wallpaper and painted the dining room. But then the kitchen didn’t match. So then I did that. Then the living room had to coordinate with the colors. But that made the entry way and hall look dated. So, now I have painted for 36 hours, stayed awake due to ghost noises another 15 hours, and slept 10. The paint job looks great. But then I look at the leak stains on the ceiling and the crappy carpet. It’s got to go.

And then, you check in the renters. And before you know it, there are fingerprints on the walls, stains on the carpet, and scratches on the furniture.

The ghost seems to approve of all the work I’ve done, he let me sleep last night. You have to read the comments on my haunted house blog. My sister always has to outdo me with her humor. And sweet Liz telling me to “be brave” as she is about to pop a baby out. She’s the one that needs to be brave.

Tonight I took myself on a date to a nice restaurant. I met two other single women there. We ate in the bar area. Then we went to the club next door which had an incredible blues band playing. One of my new friends claimed to be a professional dancer and she rocked the house… (was she maybe a stripper and I didn’t catch on?)…the other new friend pointed out a trans-sexual on the dance floor. I had to ask her what a trans-sexual was.

I stood there with my jaw dropped. The trans-sexual looked pretty sexy to me. I wondered whether the man who was dancing with her knew.

Haunted Beach House

This picture shows our beach house in the early 1920's. The ocean is to the right. It was an old house that in 1985 was put up on a foundation (but not properly). Over the years, it's had additions and that's what causes all the leaks as it sags everywhere.

A few years ago, a renter told me she thought the house was haunted. The doors would shut and things moved. I figured that was because everything is crooked. Then, a year ago, my sisters and I were here and in my bedroom, the light turned on at night. So did the radio. We freaked out, screamed, and all jumped into bed together. I had put this out of my head until last night.

All alone, I went to bed and started to hear creaks. I tried to think happy thoughts, but kept reverting back to the light and radio turning on (we no longer use that plug, maybe that was it). Then I felt like someone was sitting on the bed. I could not move, I was so frightened. The door was rattling. But that was probably because I had the window open to hear the ocean and the breeze was blowing in. But then again, who knows?

I stayed up most of the night. Keeping the light on seems to keep the ghosts at bay, or at least my imagination. When you look at the picture from the 1920's, it appears that there is some ghostly figure to the left of the group. Those of you who could see Elvis in the pine knot posted earlier will surely see the ghost in this picture.

The burnt orange paint I did in the dining room looks nice, but now I need to paint everything else in the house to match the look. Given that I no longer sleep, I guess that will not be a problem.