It came from the bushes marching with a languidness that makes my enormous cat seem fleet of foot. Its hooves beat the ground like the loneliest drum circle during an “occupy” protest. Yes, we have a cow and it is unwelcome. Like trying to barbeque drunk, it has left patties all over our lawn and driveway. Mysteriously as fast as it comes, it leaves again like an incompetently heavy ninja that only Chris Farley could relate to. In Norse creationist mythology, the cow Auðumbla sustained Ymir while licking the first god Búri free of the ice. Somehow I feel this cow isn’t nearly as important, no this one is just here to defecate and chew bubble gum… but it was all out of gum. Truly it is hardly a threat but rather an annoyance and I’m sure it is getting nothing but satisfaction from this. In fact, last time it brought a couple friends to chew the literal cud.
The vineyard is excelling though despite bovine influences, some vines towering making us feel as though we are at a carnival as children and not tall enough to ride the coasters. Lush green leaves grasp at the sky and insignificantly small batches of grapes burst like miniature Popeye arms from the bottom of some of our vines. We will make wine this year, not a lot, but some. Growing grapes though has afforded us with new bizarre problems. First and foremost, one of our vines decided not to grow grapes but rather a series of terrifying green sea urchins from what we can only figure is some sort of Lovecraftian alien influence. Looking through the Canadian disease guide for vines leads us to believe it is some kind of mold potentially from too much moisture under the canopy of leaves. Just in case though, we irradiated those grapes, we believe there to be nothing “noble” in this rot. It hasn’t stopped there though, the bottom leaves of our vines have also started to brown, is this seasonal? Lack of water? Potassium deficiency? Open rebellion? We have no idea.