I Don’t Collect Cow Creamers!

Let me start out by repeating, I really don’t collect cow creamers.  I know, “Yeah right” you say, but this is one of those things that sort of insinuate themselves into your life and there they are.  It started out innocently enough with the little white cow on the right hand side.  My Grandmother had gotten the cow somewhere, donated it to a church sale, and won it back TWICE!  Well, as a 10 year old, I thought he was pretty nifty, and Grandma was glad to think it wouldn’t sneak back into her house, so it came home with me.  She lived on my kitchen window sill alone for years, till one day I found the tiny brown one in front at a garage sale.  Only about two inches high, it wouldn’t hold enough milk for even a tiny cup of coffee, and I thought that was so funny that I had to have it.  (Oops, there is that family rule that one of anything is a collection, and here were two!)  Then when my other Grandmother moved in with my Mom, she gave me the wonderful big Bessie on the left hand side.  This one my Mom can remember using for cream for their cereal.  Then I spotted the big fat black and white one, and she was so cute and tubby that home she came.  Then I found the sitting one, and you never see one sitting, ergo, home-go!  Now we come to that purple one in back.  I know, not even a creamer, but the Purple Cow was my favorite poem as a child.


So there you have it, no regrets, except on the part of the writer of the Purple Cow poem who penned this after his poem got a little TOO popular.

Ah, yes! I wrote the “Purple Cow”–
I’m sorry that I wrote it!
But I can tell you now,
I’ll kill you if you quote it!

–Gelette Burgess

I won’t kill you for quoting, but I might, if you send me a cow creamer! (Unless it’s really cool!!!)


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