The Globe and Mail featured a column last Saturday, In defence of branding cattle.
You can take a read-through, but you should know Travis pointed out a significant factual error already: It’s not always a gloved hand that puts out the hair fire.
As a matter of fact, just this morning he was (still) complaining about a sore hand, a result of taking one too many kicks to the unprotected appendage.
Meanwhile, I cut three minutes off my 1000m swim time in five days, so I’m pretty pleased about that.
I’m less pleased with having to admit I locked Sylvia in the car last week. Thank goodness I had parked in the shade, and the tow truck arrived in less than ten minutes. She just sat in her car seat saying “Mommy, get in car!” and watching me gesticulate wildly trying to get her to wriggle out of her seat belt and reach for the lock. When Dan (the tow truck driver) finally unlocked the car, Sylvia was rewarded with a Freezie and later, ice cream. Next thing she’ll be locking her own self in the car just for the treats.