Sunday, April 5, 2009

A Goat in a Sweater and Other Stuff




I am immensely grateful to the rescue organization that we adopted two goats from yesterday. The goats are absolute dolls! Having tame goats is like having two very friendly dogs that don't bark. The add on Craig's list said that they "would take all the love and cookies you could give". It was the truth. I am completely and utterly in love. They are older girls (five and seven), but they will finish out their years here with us. We are so happy to give them a loving home, especially since the alternative was a slaughter truck.

They were named Patty and Keeta, but we weren't fond of the name Keeta, so now they are Patty and Selma (just like Marge's sisters on "The Simpsons"). They are adapting to their new home and are working on their roommate relationship. As it stands right now Selma is trying to establish dominance over Patty, since Selma is older. Selma is being a bit of a b*&#@ to Patty, and won't let her in their little house. We are hoping the situation will iron itself out soon. I put a sweater on Patty this morning, since it was so windy and cold and her roommate was not sharing her room.


I'm really hoping some crime was committed at 7:30 this morning, so I will be interrogated.

Detective: "Where were you at seven thirty a.m. on April fifth?"
Me: "I was putting a sweater on my goat."
Detective: "Of course. There will be no further questioning."
[In the pictures Selma is eating "forbidden" sticks through a fence that is protecting a tree within their enclosure. Selma was not giving me any good shots, so I settled for that. Patty is sporting the sweater :-)]

Friday, April 3, 2009

IQ Test

I keep seeing these offers to take a free IQ test on yahoo. They always have a picture of Oprah, or Obama with their IQ underneath them, challenging you to beat their score. I took one of these goofy tests four-ish years ago and the results have plagued my relationship (now marriage) ever since. For the record, I don’t think these tests are very accurate. Anyway, my score was pretty high and when I was finished it gave me this goofy certificate to print out that said I officially had a high IQ. It looked legitimate when the ink hit paper; it said my name and plainly stated that I had a high IQ underneath. To be obnoxious, I decided to put it on the fridge.

Later that same day Jason and I had a spat about something or other. He told me “you just think you are sooo smart and you know everything.” I didn’t even respond, or mention the fact that I now had official documentation proving my genius. He had yet to notice the certificate on the fridge. I went to work (I was bartending at night), and hoped he would find that silly certificate.

He found it! He used the url at the top of the printout to go and take the same test. What was his score? A full thirty points less than my score! He printed out his test, and I later found it in a pile by the computer. He never mentioned the test to me. Later when I brought up the test he claimed that he “wasn’t trying” when he took it. Who takes an IQ test and doesn’t try?

Now every time Jason has the nerve to say “you think you are sooo smart”, I reply: “Well, actually…..” (I’m always interrupted there)
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT THAT STUPID IQ TEST! I told you I wasn’t trying.”

Jason is, in reality, a very smart man. He married me, didn’t he? He is much smarter than I am about a lot of things (Jeeps, livestock, wind direction, weapons, mythology, fast food, dog breeds……not multiplication tables, though). I just happen to be a better test taker. He has a wealth of knowledge about a lot of useful stuff…no, really. This doesn’t change the fact that I will ALWAYS use that test as leverage, mainly because it irritates him so much. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do to our mates? Irritate the bejesus out of them?
(Jason, I know you read this sometimes.I love you!)

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

A Fond Farewell to a Friend

.......or foe. I'm still not certain which you were, Antonio.

This is the last picture ever taken of Antonio, my ornery little rooster. He was moving too fast for my camera, hence the blurriness (maybe someone will buy me a better camera for mother's day.....nudge, nudge). He was at the threshold of the chicken house and he was threatening to attack me. Ahhh, memories.

I saw my "Antonio stick" laying in front of my chicken house yesterday. It was the stick I used to hold off his attacks until he realized who I was (the food and water lady). It made me incredibly sad that I no longer need it.

On mild fall evenings I would open the bedroom window. It would become apparent that my decision to leave the window open was a bad idea when a little, feathered someone would start incessantly crowing at four a.m. Laying there, I thought: "Dammmit, Antonio! The sun is not even thinking about rising for another two and a half hours." There were several times that he made so much noise at night, that I walked out to the chicken house, because I was certain that something was trying to murder the chickens. I would shine the flashlight in the hen house to illuminate a bunch of annoyed looking hens and turkeys (I swear that if poultry can look annoyed, they most certainly did). I'm honestly shocked that a turkey didn't just "take him out" because he was going crazy from sleep deprivation.

He didn't just crow at night, or in the morning. His crowing was pretty much an all day event. The silence now is a constant reminder of his absence. I never thought that I would mourn this hard over a chicken.

Antonio, I hope you are in that big chicken house in the sky making a terrible racket! I'll see you one day, and you will probably try to attack me. Then you'll realize..."Oh, it's the lady that always has food. She's pretty cool."

Monday, March 30, 2009

I Heart Peggy Hill



Peggy Hill Pictures, Images and Photos



So, I had a bout of insomnia this week. This is a cruel thing, since I have two babies and never get enough sleep anyway. At three in the morning, both kids were sound asleep and where was I? Watching "King of the Hill" on Adult Swim. My mind was full, and I was too antsy to sleep. Three nights in a row "King of the Hill" was my only friend. I watch this show every afternoon with Barrett, since we both enjoy it. Of course I was thrilled to get an extra dose at an ungodly hour.


We watch all the animated shows here: "The Simpsons", "Southpark", "King of the Hill", "Aqua Teen Hunger Force", "Robot Chicken" and my husband watches "Family Guy", but I hate it! In one "Southpark" episode they suggested that the writers for "Family Guy" are actually manatee and I suspect they are right. I'm sorry to alienate any of my three readers, but "Family Guy" is just not that clever. It's not!

Why do I love "King of the Hill"? I love it, because Peggy Hill is the best television character ever created. She's a substitute Spanish teacher who can hardly speak Spanish. She does things like write a paper for her thirteen year old son, and then get angry because he received a "b". Peggy Hill's claim to fame is that she is the state boggle champion. She is constantly seeking acceptance, only to be disappointed. I relate to her awkwardness.

My favorite episode is when she gets the job as the "helpful hints" columnist in the local paper. The first hint that she comes up with is to mix bleach and ammonia to make a stronger cleaner (Ammonia and bleach yield toxic chlorine gas, in case you didn't know). She figures out what she has done after the paper has gone to print. The next morning she decides to go buy and steal all of the papers, so that no one can read her mistake. Oh, that Peggy!

Peggy's witty sayings:
"They're always in the last place you look, because once you find them, there's no reason to keep looking."
"Would you please tell Boomhauer that Swiss cheese is not Mehican, it is American."
"My rose-colored glasses are off and the world looks flesh-colored and unappealing."
(Peggy's rejected ideas for "musings":) - Lots of cookies will make you fat. - Thank goodness for plexiglass. - Sunburn, too much of a good thing. - Nothing is dirt cheap, because dirt is free. - Give a donkey the chance and he will bite you in the ass.

Enough said.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Hard Lessons Learned

Some days I wonder if I am cut out for country life. Today is one of those days. I was thrilled about the arrival of my goats. I woke up yesterday morning and had the tingle in my stomach like it was Christmas day. I went outside to see them as soon as I could. Although, they weren't really thrilled to see me, since they are wild. I sat outside the shed where they had decided to hide and talked to them. They seemed to kind of enjoy me speaking to them, but they showed no signs of wanting to come out and see me.

Later in the day Jason comes in and reports that one of the goats has escaped.
Me: "What? How?"
Jason: "I don't know"
Jason spent three hours driving through the nearby creek bed and the surrounding pastures. No sign of her. We removed a fraction of a 2 by 4 hanging from a post that we assumed the goat jumped onto, then onto the roof of their living quarters, and then to freedom. We figured that this would eliminate the possibility of the other goat escaping.

We went to town and bought sweet feed, hoping to attract our wayward goat back to its new home. I was hopeful. When we returned home, the second goat was gone too.
Me: "Are you sure she is gone, Jason?"
Jason: "Yes, I am sure."

Less than twenty-four hours since I had gotten the goats and they were gone. Their pen consisted of five-foot "cow panels" about the best fencing that money can buy. They still escaped. The pen where they were being held at the place from which we purchased them was not nearly as well constructed, or as tall as the confines we had made for them. So, we were falsely confident that they couldn't leave.

It turns out that the goats had been allowed to roam free on 160 acres. They only came up to their former owner's home to eat at night. They were never handled, except to be moved. They were only penned to be sold...to morons like us. From what I have read....... a bit too late, you can't keep a goat unless it wants to be kept. The tame goats are bottle-fed from the beginning and identify their owners as family. These goats were wild as hell. They will not likely come back. I have hope that they will assimilate into a nearby cattle heard, so that they will survive. It's a terrible thought, but a lone goat is no match for a coyote pack.

I feel responsible for them. I feel terrible that they got out, and that I failed at keeping them safe. Fortunately they escaped before I had time to become emotionally bonded to them. We will only by newborn goats from now on. I am still getting some baby goats within the next couple weeks. I have a twinge of hope that my wild goats will be returned, as every farmer within twenty miles has been made aware of their existence.

Antonio, my beloved rooster, has been missing since Saturday. The ornery little turd went down to the creek bed (beyond our property) and has not been seen or heard since. He is too dumb to run from anything. He used to challenge my 100 pound dog, so I fear the worst for him. All of my other poultry is accounted for, but not him. It's not as much fun collecting eggs without having to fight off his attacks with a stick. I miss him.

The only reason that I agreed to move to the middle of nowhere, without a Target, or Kohl's within a reasonable drive was because I was promised lots of animals. I wouldn't care if my chickens stopped laying eggs tomorrow. They are my pets. I wouldn't care if we never yielded as much as a drop of goat's milk. I would just like to have a goat that I could call my friend. We have lived on our property for almost a year, and we are still learning a lot about having a hobby farm. Even though I am down about the loss of my goats and my rooster, the farm lives on. My bevy of hens are still in the yard eating bugs. My elusive barn cat is still lurking....somewhere. My dogs are still hunting mice in the woodpile. The horses are still soliciting me for treats. I hope that one day Jason and I will sit around and laugh about our first year on our little acreage and all the things that went wrong.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Got Goat??



I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meet Carmen (front), and Rosie. They are my two new babies.

Friday, March 20, 2009

The Wild Monkey Who Lives In My House



















I




I adore him. Despite:

  • the food flinging
  • furniture climbing
  • shrill screeching
  • dog chasing
  • dish breaking
  • magazine shredding
  • clawing my face
  • biting my butt (he's done it more than once, people)
  • grabbing the dog's weiner
  • throwing himself on the floor and screaming bloody murder

He's quite charming and a constant source of entertainment. It's a good thing, because it more than cancels out all of his naughtiness.