Yeah, right. I got about 20 backstitches done when I hear, "Hallooo! Here cow, here cow! Anyone home?" A man appeared out of our woods from one direction, and the cows darted out of the woods from another direction heading towards him. Our neighbor had driven up from Houston to tend to his cows. I think he mostly felt bad because they were on our property again. Other than the cow pats and their presence driving the dog nuts, they really aren't that horrid (unless you step in a cow pat!).
I didn't get to stitch much, but I met our neighbor, learned a lot about cows, and learned a lot about some of the other neighbors (and yeah, a lot of them live in Houston!). And DH ended up with spaghetti and meatballs for dinner (my back-up cook-quick meal).
I'm a knowledge junkie, and I'm always willing to learn about something I don't know anything about from someone who does. And our neighbor, who rents the 62 acre pasture behind us from a guy who lives in California(!), is passionate about cows. So I picked his brain and learned a lot - at least about beef cattle; he doesn't know much about dairy cattle.
I also learned that it's best to wear jeans instead of shorts when tramping about an unmowed pasture. (Hey! At least I put on shoes!) And that you should not run in a pasture lest you step in a hole, lose your balance, and fall face first into a bunch of goatweed. And I learned that the nicely pungent-smelling weed I fell in was goatweed. It can be used in skin care products. ☺
Oh well. Maybe I'll get to stitch today. Uh huh.