The Problem With Farm Auctions

 The problem with farm auctions is that you get so caught up in the excitement and hand waving that you forget just what you went there for in the first place. Standing in the dusty Fair building next to the local farmers and wanna-be farmers watching one bovine after another traipse through the make-shift ring gets your adrenaline pumping and soon your dreams change shape right before your very eyes. I didn't even realize that I had dreams of raising a Jersey milk cow until tonight.

After the first group of beautiful heifers came through I started to think that a refrigerator full of unpasteurized, hand squeezed milk would be the next best thing, but their high price tag scared me off. Then, a few sales later, and with only a couple of stragglers left, the slim pickins got pretty cheap.

There she was, the skinniest most bedraggled red critter in the barn. When the auctioneer could barely get one hundred dollars to start the bid I nudged Rob and suggested she would make a perfect mother's day present. Up went his hand, then again and again, and number twenty-nine was the proud new owner of  our very own Jersey heifer. After finding a trailer to haul her home in we tucked her into her own dry lot and will patiently wait for the sun to come up in the morning to see what we really bought.

Now for a name: Daisy, Milly, Mercy, Petunia, Hamburger...