Life Without The Internet

As both of you who actually read this blog may have noticed (of course, that includes my girlfriend and my mother), I have been MIA online for the past few weeks. I promise you there is a great explanation for it. All I need now is to find a good way to spin it for you.
First of all to my Mother, I love you. I don’t know where I would be without you. You teach me through your amazing example that it is possible to love an offbeat son unconditionally. If there was a “World’s Greatest Mother” Award that my imaginary non-profit foundation gave out, you would have it, hands down. In all the trials that I go through, I now know that I can depend on you for anything. Which is why I feel that this is the best time to ask you an important question. May I have some money?
Life on the farm has been quiet. I’ve made friends with the cows, mended some fences, chased enemy cows out of our property, forgotten to bathe, (therefore I) lived like a hobo as I of course refined my highly sought after talents and skills with the Xbox. I gather that if I spend at least a few hours a day on it, I can be the gamer that other gamers speak of in legends. People will say, “Wow, He’s really good!”; “He sure has a lot of gamer points!”; “He’s using game-genie!”;“That ReprovedRapier guy really doesn’t have a life does he?”

Ah that would be the life. I know I know, it doesn’t pay very much now, but they say that a knowledge of “The Secret” can jaunt me top in no time!
I have counted the cows so many times that I even decided to affix a name to each of them, appropriately after the numbers I call them in the business of counting them. My favorite of them all is affectionately called “#22”. He’s black, just like most of my friends. (just kidding just kidding, he’s really white) I go to him first, say “Hi, Number 22, How are you?” To which his reply is a blank motionless stare, then with his patented cow-chew, then a motionless stare, then back to eating the grass. It is absolutely priceless. I feel like I really connect with him on that unspoken, spiritual level.
And then, I proceed to count the cows—most of the time haphazardly—probably because I start with the #22 first. Then naturally I would count #7, #3, #14, #11 (who is a particularly mean one, I must say), #6, #15, #2, #7 (wait, didn’t I just count you?), #16, #4, #12, #1, #5 (who is nicknamed, for all intents and purposes, “fattie”), #17, #13, #20, #8, #10, #19, #21, #9, #18, then the last one: #11. Then, I count them on my fingers. Are they all there? Shucks I think I miscounted. Dang I better recount. (grunt)
Jokes aside, before I was sent to watch the family’s cows, I really had no bearing of how important to God’s plan animals really are. But after a few weeks out here, I have really come to value the Lord and his creatures. It’s peaceful, because I feel that the more that I learn about them, the more I learn about myself and human nature. There is true beauty in the world. And I think that’s the way he meant it to be.
Aside from being natures lawnmowers featuring natural fertilizer that comes out of their butts, cows are actually very peaceful and friendly. They know when their master comes, and they all “moo” to tell the others to come and get treats from me. (Oh yeah, I feed them treats too). It’s kinda cool to see a herd of 22 cows “moo” and run as fast as they can to greet me at the gate. It’s humbling in a way.
Who would think that a herd of cows could teach me humility and respect? Not me. I’m just happy I’m out here.