The Heat of the Moment

She waited expectantly, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Somewhere, he was out there. Flowers bobbed gently in the warm breeze and their intoxicating aroma filled the night air. She could think of nothing but him. His strength, his smell, the sound of his footsteps. She knew she shouldn’t, and yet…. Excitement ran through her like a current of electricity and the waiting became excruciating. An eternity passed.

And then, suddenly, he emerged from the darkness. She could think of nothing at all to say, as she gazed into his warm, brown eyes. His strong body glowed in the moonlight and in a moment, she was swept away. Somewhere in the night, a bird trilled a love song to an invisible mate.

Nah. I made all that stuff up. And this should illustrate exactly why engineers should not write romance novels. Really, after observing Priscilla’s increasing interest in her best friend, we finally witnessed the mounting that clearly signaled Bessie’s “standing heat.” A quick call to our AI tech brought Rhonda to our farm within minutes. The wind was gusting and it was bloody cold out. But armed with her trusty nitrogen tank, electric water bath and a semen straw from Son of Fat Louie, she expertly performed the insemination procedure and confirmed for us that Bessie was in heat. Bessie was far more interested in eating sweet feed (that’s our girl) than in anything else going on, and within minutes, was on her way back to her buddies with a belly full of feed and a soon-to-be fertilized egg. Rosebud went through this procedure exactly one week ago, and we are hoping that both inseminations result in pregnancies. We will know in about 3 weeks.

While the procedure does not sound all that romantic, Tom and I felt that it justified celebrating with a really nice Bourgogne. Of course, we feel that way about a lot of things- like cleaning up the basement, getting all the stalls picked and finishing the taxes. Because, despite the depressing news and worrisome economy, there is much to celebrate in our lives. There are catkins on the Elm trees, a hint of green in the grass and 24 wheels of goddawful smelling brie in the cooler. For all its complications, life is still, generally good.

(Photo courtesy of carrieanddanielle.com/.../sustainability/page/3/)