25 August, 2009
ragbag:


having a cow
it is an oft-cited tradition among members of the harvard universe that tenured professors at that college are allowed the privilege of letting their cows graze in harvard yard. no modern day professor has asserted this right to pasture…until now.
on september 10 at 1630, harvey cox, the hollis professor of divinity (wearing full academic regalia) will lead into the yard a “scottish highland long-haired cow, with fetching bangs, or a jersey, with soulful eyes.” a minister will then offer an invocation to assembled faculty members, students, friends, cox, the cow, and yours truly.  the company will adjourn to the divinity school for refreshments and to listen to a 17-piece big band where cox plays tenor sax and the cows play the cow bells (duh).
more here. less here.  photo credit.




September 10, 4:30 PM. See you there‽

Also, the whole “College Pump” column in Harvard Magazine, written by a mysterious fellow of the name Primus V, is uniquely entertaining.

ragbag:

having a cow

it is an oft-cited tradition among members of the harvard universe that tenured professors at that college are allowed the privilege of letting their cows graze in harvard yard. no modern day professor has asserted this right to pasture…until now.

on september 10 at 1630, harvey cox, the hollis professor of divinity (wearing full academic regalia) will lead into the yard a “scottish highland long-haired cow, with fetching bangs, or a jersey, with soulful eyes.” a minister will then offer an invocation to assembled faculty members, students, friends, cox, the cow, and yours truly. the company will adjourn to the divinity school for refreshments and to listen to a 17-piece big band where cox plays tenor sax and the cows play the cow bells (duh).

more here. less herephoto credit.

September 10, 4:30 PM. See you there‽ Also, the whole “College Pump” column in Harvard Magazine, written by a mysterious fellow of the name Primus V, is uniquely entertaining.

ragbag:


counting sleep
sure, i’ve posted sheep terms before, but can you think of anything more specific than a numbering system for counting sheep? pre-industrial english shepherds can and have. there are many regional variations of this rhyme worthy of their own chaffinch-style map though i chose to represent the lincolnshire system because lincoln is my third favourite president and there is no such thing as a garfieldshire system for counting sheep*.
so the next time that you are falling asleep (or not falling asleep), instead of counting sheep by the boring old one…two..three method, why not impress your bedmate with your knowledge of the traditional yan…tan…tether rhyme?
*yet.



It’s my last day at the sheep farm, and ragbag has served up a most timely post to end it all. Also, if you click through to the “sheep terms” link just above, you will find a compendium of sheep terms and one I have the most experience with: 
 daglock—a clump of wool, clotted with dung on a sheep’s hindquarters

ragbag:

counting sleep

sure, i’ve posted sheep terms before, but can you think of anything more specific than a numbering system for counting sheep? pre-industrial english shepherds can and have. there are many regional variations of this rhyme worthy of their own chaffinch-style map though i chose to represent the lincolnshire system because lincoln is my third favourite president and there is no such thing as a garfieldshire system for counting sheep*.

so the next time that you are falling asleep (or not falling asleep), instead of counting sheep by the boring old one…two..three method, why not impress your bedmate with your knowledge of the traditional yan…tan…tether rhyme?

*yet.

It’s my last day at the sheep farm, and ragbag has served up a most timely post to end it all. Also, if you click through to the “sheep terms” link just above, you will find a compendium of sheep terms and one I have the most experience with:
daglock—a clump of wool, clotted with dung on a sheep’s hindquarters

Abattoir

seems quite a sophisticated word, much kinder than its synonyms. “Three lambs are booked for the abattoir on Tuesday” (oh yes, they’re going to frolic and be pampered!) sounds much better than “I’m sending three lambs to the slaughterhouse tomorrow.” Unless, I suppose, you know French, and the meaning of abattre.

Four lambs have died in the week I’ve been at the farm. These four died of illness (pas abattu) and do not overlap with the three lambs sent to the abattoir today. There is a fifth lamb, small and frail, who I’m afraid will not make it through the night. She refuses to drink any milk and sits around crunching her teeth.

Another day at the farm.

  • Me: What were you doing with that cow over there?
  • Farmer: I saw that she had a prolapsed cervix. Popped it back in.