The Black Cow of Doom

 It was another rainy day and I did my best to stay indoors.

I can't say that I kept myself busy, but I wasn't completely idle, and I got another ten pounds of honey clarified and bottled.  I'll be glad when this task is finished; as the effort to extract crystallised honey from a 30lb tub is doing my tennis elbow no good at all!

That's about it for Monday. I sorted some honey, fed and watered chickens and picked a few tomatoes, not the most productive of days.  

So instead I'll recount a little of the Black Cow of Doom; one of the panoply of mystical beasts and beings that inhabit my imagination.

Back in 2010 we spent a week up on the Lleyn peninsula in Wales with the dogs. We had a super time and, whilst driving, I regularly saw the road sign warning of cattle.  I took this to be a dreaded portent, and the legend of the Black Cow of Doom was born.  From that point forward, whenever the warning sign is seen, her name is called with awe and reverence and a ritual gesture is performed to ward off ill spirits.*

Let's jump forward to the beginning of last week; 30% and I were sat up in bed enjoying a cup of coffee.  As we looked out of the bedroom window a black cow appeared in the field across the lane. It mooed and the grandfather clock struck eight o'clock. If ever there was a portent that had PORTENT spray painted across it in luminous green.  I referenced the dark coloured bovine of terrible fates and we performed the appropriate gesture.

Now, I need to state quite clearly that I don't believe any of this nonsense. It is just stuff that amuses me and it was a complete coincidence that we saw the Black Cow of Doom the same day we had a family bereavement.

Oops!

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* I also give 30% a gentle punch whenever we see a yellow car, but that is completely different.