I currently have three bulls – two Scottish Highlanders and one Hereford. They are all gentle. We are raising beef cattle here, not producing ferocious contestants for rodeos or bullfights.

It turns out that almost all of the water attributed to the water footprint of cattle is the rain that would have fallen on the pasture, whether or not the animals were there. Written by Diana Rodgers - info@sustainabledish.com

Although I was not one to break too many rules, the day they took 1969 yearbook photos, I photobombed as many clubs as possible. I did enjoy Folk Singing even if I never actually joined the club. Fifty years later, there is my smiling face among the members of that club, plus Gymnastics and Equestrian club photos. Sorry, Equestrians, yours was the one club I would have liked to join.

Thirteen of our 15 expected calves have been born, mostly without incident. Last year's calves are getting fat on summer grass and the vegetable scraps we collect twice a week from Shaw's in Gilford. Twenty-eight head graze at two different remote pastures, and our Scottish Highlander bull is back at the farm for a rendezvous with our Highlander cows and heifers.

The first call came in at about 2 p.m. on Tuesday. Eleven of our cattle had escaped from a borrowed pasture at Early Sunrise Farm on Sargent Road in Gilmanton.

Usually, I write about raising cattle, birthing calves, fixing broken equipment, and the challenges of working with husband Bruce. That's hard to do this week because our country is in the throes of racial strife. As much as I'd like to share stories of green grass and newborn calves, I can't ignore the vast and terrible thing gripping the country, and it's not spelled c-o-v-i-d.