The Fatted Calf has Arrived

You will never hear the word "love" used in my family -- at least not among us  menfolk -- but we know what it is, and we say it with Meat.

Today my annual fatted calf arrived -- a joint production between my Uncle Don (who raises our cattle), my Uncle Woody's boys (who slaughter them), and my Dad, who gave it a ride up here on his way back from his cardiology appointment in Cinci. Sometimes I get it for my birthday, and sometimes for Christmas. Last year, it showed up unusually early, and the steaks were unusually small (it turned out that particular calf had done something to make Don mad, precipitating his early demise). I don't know what he did....but he sure was delicious.

I read through all Dad's cardio notes and I couldn't tell if they were switching him from Lipitor to Crestor, or if they were just adding on. My guess is they should give it all they've got.

We got in a brief visit and caught up on all the neighbors and their divorces ("Wiley's as dumb as he can be -- you know his head is half again as big as Jay Leno's -- but his wife's just crazy-- that's all that's the matter with her. But he'd already called the law on her so many times, he was ashamed to say anything this time..." I am not sure what "this time" entailed, but it involved a new Jeep Cherokee and some significant crop destruction.)

I don't know, I couldn't really focus on anything he was saying, because he also brought along this  -- a coconut cream pie from the pie ladies down the road from the slaughterhouse.

No hugs were exchanged (of course), but I can't imagine a more pure expression of familial devotion than this.