The Largest Cow

On the road between Minnesota and Idaho Falls, there is this huge statue of a Holstein milk cow, the largest in the world.

It's one of those things that you see on the road like the world's largest roll of twine or any number of other weird things that occasionally appear.

Ann took the picture, and if you look closely at the bluff at the left, there is something standing on the edge. It's the famous cow.

We didn't stop, but it did make us smile on that long trip across Montana and Wyoming and South Dakota and Minnesota. And let's not forget North Dakota, because I really can't remember whether this statue was in North or South Dakota.

I most likely wouldn't stop, because I've seen old heifers before. The meanest one was my fourth grade teacher. She was like a female version of the Minotaur, except she walked with a bit of a limp. And she also had this permanent sneer on her face. It was like Sylvester Stallone meets Elvis.

She was the meanest woman who ever lived.

There were a couple of strange professors I had in the English Department, but they mostly just eccentric.

One, who taught graduate classes at USU only knew one challenge in life, putting on lipstick. She would come to class, and it honestly looked like she tried to apply it like any average rodeo clown--tuck in the lips, and with a firm back-and-forth motion, violently apply it to the area above the lips. I could just never quite understand how she always smeared the rose-colored stuff on her teeth. I guess creative people just have trouble coloring within the lines.

The other one was my second grade teacher. She wasn't mean. She wasn't eccentric. She was just violently strange.

She did, however, drive a pink Thunderbird convertible. But the incredible car didn't make any excuses for her. She was still violently strange.