There have been many “firsts” since moving to rural Idaho. To remember them, I’ll be documenting them here every Wednesday.

Last week, as I was schlepping kids around in my car, two “firsts” happened in the same day.

1. I was a hair away from hitting a chicken in mid flight. It flew right out in front of my zippy Odyssey as I was going about 55 miles an hour. Jack and I looked at each other and busted out laughing. I didn’t know those things could actually fly. And aren’t they supposed to be fenced in or something? Maybe it was a “free range” chicken. Maybe that’s why free range chickens are so expensive. Only a handful survive long enough to make it to the slaughter house.
2. As we were nearing our neighborhood, I saw something large on the side of the road. It was black and white and really round. As we got near, I was able to make out just what it was. Lying at the end of someone’s dirt driveway was a big, bloated, dead-as-a-doornail COW! It was lying on it’s side and was so bloated that its legs were almost straight up in the air. I don’t know if it got out of it’s pasture and had a run-in with a truck or what. All I know was that if I didn’t have a list of things to do that day, I would’ve stuck around with my camera in hand to document just exactly what that farmer would do with his dead cow. What does one do with a hugely bloated, expired cow? Hmmm….

As I write this, the local breaking news is that the freeway has been shut down due to a bull running loose. Go figure…