Monday, June 25, 2012


It was a cold, damp night.  I was sitting in my usual chair watching Saturday Night Live, just like I do every Saturday night.  The popcorn had cooled off, and my coffee mug needed a refill.  I got up to put some water on the stove, and then I heard it.

The sound of snapping branches and slurping citrus.

Little did I know, but the chickens have convinced the cows to join their personal vendetta against me.  They must have some secret agreement to torture the Norte.  The chickens attack early in the morning and last for the afternoon, followed by a 2 hour cease-fire between 6 and 8PM, and then the cows start their assault in the dark.

I wouldn't mind if they were just eating the grass, but not only are the cows really loud eaters, they are destroying the kumanda yvyra'i by my house and constantly brushing up against my garden fence, which I spent (as you all know) a lot of time and effort on.  If they knock it over, believe me--it's on.  I will not hesitate to #StabACow. "Stabbing a cow" is a term we PCVs use to describe losing it or going crazy.  Our trainers told us a story in PST about a PCV that lost it because a cow kept eating her underwear off of her clothes line, so she stabbed and killed it, and then had to change sites.  In training I thought it was a crazy story... but now I totally get it.  I dream of it often, and it takes a good amount of self-control to keep myself from going after them with my machete.

War has become a routine for me.  In this seemingly endless battle against the Farm Animals, I am constantly forced to remind myself what I am fighting for.  What that is... well, it has yet to be identified.  Sanity?  If anyone has any ideas let me know.

1 comment:

Hannah said...

Bryce, you crack me up! gosh, thank you for your whitty way of describing your everyday life...or battles.