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I’m swamped at work and home right now. Act surprised. That’s one thing I’ve found about uprooting yourself with the intent to start fresh somewhere else: wherever you go, there you are. You still bring your old personality and habits with you. The tasks are a bit different – I never had to fix the automatic cattle waterer in Chicago – but the fact that I am always too busy seems to have remained the same. Keep that in mind if you want to move out to the country and enjoy the simple life.

In any case,  since I am too busy to do a new post  I leave you with this quick post that’s been in my Drafts since December of 2007…

My kids are becoming “inured” to the surprises of country life. Heading into the stables this morning to feed the chickens (yes, we stable our chickens. I ordered some chicken tack, too, so we can ride them around for Christmas parades.) I heard our 8 year old exclaim, “Hello, possum,” to the possum stuck in the live trap and then walk over to the feed room. Several months ago this would have been an occasion to run back into the house and shout an alarm to groggy parents. Now, it hardly merits a hello.

Cath and I went back to Chicago for a quick weekend trip last week. It’s always interesting to go back. You settle into the old routines fast. Like taking off fast from a Stop sign so that the cabbie coming from the left won’t jump out ahead of you. Or wondering what demonic traffic engineer designed the roads around Woodfield Mall. Well, that’s a Schaumburg thing, not Chicago, but I’m lumping them together since I now live in the “country”, which exists outside of “the suburbs” (Northwest or otherwise), or “the city”.

Going back for a weekend is great for me. I get to go to Games Plus in Mt. Prospect, my favorite game store in the whole world. I get to grab some fancy dining (this time, at Davis Street Fish Market in Evanston – and a Hofbrau-related restaurant near Wrigley Field). I get to see which Daley friend/project/contributor is under investigation/indictment/arrest. It’s a lot of fun. Then, before the Monday morning commute, I come back here where my street is closed at one end for repaving so the normal few cars per hour is now down to zero.

I’m lucky to have a foot in both worlds. I can outdrive a cabbie. I can parallel park a big sedan. I can also repair a fence, operate a front loader, and cut firewood. I can appreciate the difference between a tapas bar and a topless bar (Aside: idea – a topless tapas bar called TaTa’s). I have a clout with the Cubs and with the local township zoning board. I can pluck a chicken (not well) and get through Union Station to the Metra Local. It’s a weird skill set, but fun. I’m still trying to figure out how to fit it all into my resume.

You don’t have to cut your ties with the city to move to the country. Or vice versa, I suppose. Both places have unique things to offer. For instance, in cities outside of Michigan, I here they have these things called “jobs”.  Here in the country we have something called “affordable housing” that isn’t Section 8.

Moving on to new business, I’d like to thank Mike for his naming suggestion. Cath was the final arbiter and chose “Wabash” and “Wilson” for the new calf names. Wabash is the one born first (to Blossom), proceeding in alphabetical order to Wilson (from Yarro), who managed to escape the fence briefly yesterday after Blossom started a stampede when I fired up the tractor to bring out the last round bale. She must have been hungry. What a cow. It reminded me of the queue at the Old Country Buffet on McCormick and California.

Well, we have two new calves, one bull and one heifer calf. Cath and I are proud that we actually pegged the correct due dates (within a week). Mostly. I am still the luckiest cattleman ever in that both births were unattended, but went off without a hitch. The one snag has come from an unlikely place: the names.

Being Blue Line Farm, we have a tradition of naming our cattle after Chicago El stops who’s names begin with that year’s ear tattoo letter. Thus, we have Thorndale, Uptown (not technically an el stop, but it was name her after the neighborhood or name her “UIC/Halsted”, Van Buren, etc.  This year’s letter is W and for the first time, we have actual choices. It’s confused the heck out of us. We’re used to having to pour over CTA maps to find an El stop we can use.

Rather than agonize over it, we thought we’d throw it out to you guys, our friends and readers. Here are your choices:

• Western (3 stops!)
• Wilson
• Wells
• Washington
• Washington/Wells
• Wabash (3 stops!)

Pick any two names and let us know your favorites! Hurry though! The calves are already becoming known as “the two red ones”!