Ruled by nutz

I haven't had many deep thoughts lately, so I thought I might wade over to the shallow waters and discuss everyday life. Kirk and I took the bulls to the doc yesterday to make sure their man skills are up to par. The skills are summed up as a recent e-mail joke goes, "The geography of a man: Between 1 and 70 a man is like Iran, ruled by nuts." I guess what we did yesterday could be called the Laura's Lean Beef test.

I accidentally loaded a bull that we weren't planning on using, but I guess God looks out for those who aren't thinking. For lack of a theological description, we'll just call it the Forrest Gump clause. Turns out that bull had an infection and was only shooting straight half the time. The Forrest Gump clause can make those of us who invoke it look perty darn sharp. That is if we weren't dumb enough to be honest about it. (Of course I won't mention that I poured him on so we can't sell him for 45 days. Oops, did I say that out loud?)

Considering only one bull got rowdy after he was on the trailer I'd say things went well. Well, of course that now we are down 3 bulls maybe not, but I can always find something to be thankful for. One, I didn't get run over. Two, I work for the ranch and don't own the ranch, hence I don't have to buy 3 new bulls. Now if that isn't a congressional way of looking at life I don't know what is.