Wilbur takes first!

I just want everyone to know that I will be indisposed (whatever that means...) for the next week and a half. Josh's grandma has a farm out in Illinois, so we will be adventuring with the rest of the Robbins out there to the muggy midwest. I'm actually getting pretty pumped about it (Josh is shaking his head and calling me a liar), and am ready to feed some baby cows with bottles. See, I wasn't exactly gung-ho about the whole experience, being that his entire family described to me images of picking ticks off each other's backs like some kind of chimpanzee family, so I was pretty much dreading it. The Robbins don't exaggerate or lie so I know that when Sarah, the baby Robbins, told me how it wasn't that big of a deal and that the girls all comb through each other's hair every night, hunting for any unwanted guests, I not so mildly freaked out. Are you kidding me?! I was dead set on sabotaging the entire trip by feigning an illness, pretending my leg got cut off the day before, or even going so far as to take Josh as hostage and threaten to demolish him should anyone force me to climb aboard the plane to Planet of Disgusting Bugs. But that all changed when Josh made me the most beautiful promise ever. He promised that I would be able to hold a new baby cow, clean and sparkling, in my lap and feed the little sucker a bottle of milk (He also promised to catch me fireflies, but since that is just another form of bug, I was less than impressed). I would love nothing more than to feed baby anythings with bottles, so I am officially jazzed (see all the peppy words I'm using?) to go to the Tick Farm (a.k.a. Josh's grandma's farm).

I know you all will be fairly devastated to not have my oh-so-incredible blog to read every week, but I must apologize since there is a baby cow that has magically been wiped of it's mud and poo, waiting for me and me alone, to nurse it back to health. The cow has probably gotten very skinny and sick looking, and Josh's grandma is probably going to have to shoot it soon. I will sweep in, rescuing the little cow from it's doomed fate, and take the little reject under my wing. I will gradually (we're only there for a week so 'gradual' really means rapid fire) feed and nurture the once-starved calf back to life. The cow will blossom into adulthood, being the strongest and biggest cow Josh's grandma has ever set eyes on (that's saying a lot since she has been raising beef for nearly 50 years...). I will take him to the fair, where little Wilbur (the name of my cow, duh!) will take first place. First place! Imagine! I will ride Wilbur back to the farm, cry, and say my goodbyes. Wilbur will continue to grow strong and beautiful, and Josh' grandma will send me pictures of him, with sentences like, "The best cow ever!" or "We couldn't have done it without you feeding and believing in Wilbur! You're the best person in the entire midwest!" written on the back.

So that is why I won't be updating my blog for the next little while. I will be on a farm, feeding a cow with a bottle, and then taking it to the fair to win first place. *sigh* I just wish we could do something less noble every now and again, but it seems we aren't anything less than noble or heroic (apparently going to a farm is both noble and heroic...).