Monday, January 16, 2006
Not to worry...
...That strange yellow ball has disappeared from the sky. It is raining again, but the weather reports say we will only get an inch or so of rain today. So it's pretty nice.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Saturday, January 14, 2006
How Odd...
Something very strange and peculiar has happened. The rain has stopped falling from the sky. The sky is not completely gray any more. And there is this yellow ball, a big bright round thing, high up there. Weird, weird, weird. I'm sure the farmer will tell us what's going on...
Friday, January 13, 2006
Top Ten Reasons Why Today is a Really Nice Day in the Northwest
10. Right this minute at the farm, it is only raining steadily, rather than pouring
9. Around 9 a.m., we saw a tiny crack of sky that was off-gray instead of completely solid gray. I know, we should have taken a picture, but it passed so quickly there wasn't time
8. We haven't broken the all-time rainy day record yet - heck no, we are only on day 25 in a row
7. The trench the farmer dug yesterday is still carrying some of the rainwater away, so the mud in the barnyard hasn't swallowed any baby goats or sucked anyone's boots off (yet) today
6. The grass will be so green this spring!
5. The horses have left their run-in and are actually grazing. Woops, they went back in. Oh well.
4. The quacking of all the ducks who decided not to go south (why bother, there is a new lake right here) is so soothing.
3. Whatever happens, Mike Brown isn't head of FEMA any more
2. We are still getting room service from the farmer
and the Number One reason why it's a really nice day here in the Puget Sound region:
1. We aren't all standing on the barn roof, waiting for a helicopter!
9. Around 9 a.m., we saw a tiny crack of sky that was off-gray instead of completely solid gray. I know, we should have taken a picture, but it passed so quickly there wasn't time
8. We haven't broken the all-time rainy day record yet - heck no, we are only on day 25 in a row
7. The trench the farmer dug yesterday is still carrying some of the rainwater away, so the mud in the barnyard hasn't swallowed any baby goats or sucked anyone's boots off (yet) today
6. The grass will be so green this spring!
5. The horses have left their run-in and are actually grazing. Woops, they went back in. Oh well.
4. The quacking of all the ducks who decided not to go south (why bother, there is a new lake right here) is so soothing.
3. Whatever happens, Mike Brown isn't head of FEMA any more
2. We are still getting room service from the farmer
and the Number One reason why it's a really nice day here in the Puget Sound region:
1. We aren't all standing on the barn roof, waiting for a helicopter!
Monday, January 09, 2006
le deluge at the barnyard
Holy Brother Noah, here comes the rain again. Rain followed by rain, followed by rain, followed by rain, followed by rain. Mudslides all around the Puget Sound, and mud up to our ankles here in the barnyard.
Even the bucks have gone into their shed. When the bucks won't come out to the fenceline to try to meet girls, you know it's raining.
We don't have an ark, but there is a kayak upstairs in the barn. So if worst comes to worst, the farmer and I will paddle on down the road. Too bad, there are only two seats in the kayak. Precious Winnie will have to swim for it.
Even the bucks have gone into their shed. When the bucks won't come out to the fenceline to try to meet girls, you know it's raining.
We don't have an ark, but there is a kayak upstairs in the barn. So if worst comes to worst, the farmer and I will paddle on down the road. Too bad, there are only two seats in the kayak. Precious Winnie will have to swim for it.
Monday, January 02, 2006
My due date
Well, guess what, everybody. Last year my due date was Valentine's Day, and this year it will be Memorial Day. My babies are scheduled to arrive at the very end of May. Blue Marvel (aka Marv) is going to the baby's father. You can read more about him here. So now we can start the kidding countdown...
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Hard Cheese
It is the last day of the year and we are down to our very last milk of the season here at the farm. There is only one little yearling Nubian, Boo, still milking. And according to the farmer, Boo's style of milking is "a long walk on a short pier," whatever that means. I did see Boo kick the milk bucket over a few times but I'm sure it must have been an accident. It is a well-known fact all over the farm that Boo is not a rocket scientist.
For example, one morning the farmer came in to feed us and Boo jumped up yelling in alarm and asked me, "who on Earth is that?" I told her, "doh, Boo, that is the farmer who comes in here ten times a day and gives us all our nice grain and hay and straw and water and sometimes even peanuts or licorice." And Boo said, "oh." I realized later it was because the farmer had a new hat and so Boo thought it was a different person. Nubians.
Anyway, this upcoming milk shortage makes the farmer very grumpy because it means no more jack, no more goat milk fudge, no more honey-rosemary chevre, no more panir, no more goat milk lattes (try one and you won't go back), no more goat milk ice cream, no more nothing. How would you like it if you had fresh goat milk every day and then one day you had to go to the grocery store and buy a cardboard box full of that watery overcooked stuff they call milk? "Yuccch" would be the word that springs to mind, or maybe "barfola". If you would like to read about real milk, you can go to the real milk site.
Today the farmer said, "I will be glad when Winnie comes back in milk."
For example, one morning the farmer came in to feed us and Boo jumped up yelling in alarm and asked me, "who on Earth is that?" I told her, "doh, Boo, that is the farmer who comes in here ten times a day and gives us all our nice grain and hay and straw and water and sometimes even peanuts or licorice." And Boo said, "oh." I realized later it was because the farmer had a new hat and so Boo thought it was a different person. Nubians.
Anyway, this upcoming milk shortage makes the farmer very grumpy because it means no more jack, no more goat milk fudge, no more honey-rosemary chevre, no more panir, no more goat milk lattes (try one and you won't go back), no more goat milk ice cream, no more nothing. How would you like it if you had fresh goat milk every day and then one day you had to go to the grocery store and buy a cardboard box full of that watery overcooked stuff they call milk? "Yuccch" would be the word that springs to mind, or maybe "barfola". If you would like to read about real milk, you can go to the real milk site.
Today the farmer said, "I will be glad when Winnie comes back in milk."
That's all we hear about, Winnie Winnie Winnie the LaMancha. Just because precious Winnie milked for two years as a first freshener, big deal. "Winnie comes from a lot of milk," the farmer says. "Winnie is so pretty, she is going to the state fair when she comes back in milk." SO WHAT. Who cares about going to the state fair and lying around in a tiny pen all day so a bunch of city people can goggle at you and ask questions like "how old is this cute little lamb?"
When the farmer isn't here we call Winnie "farmer's pet" and "brown nose" - it's true, she does have a brown nose. And then we RUN.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Boxing Day
Some people love Christmas, but we goats love the days after Christmas, because that's when the farmer takes off the tinsel and the ornaments and brings out the Christmas tree for us to eat. Yum! This year we are getting a noble.
The only problem is that it is kind of like the day-after-Christmas sale at the mall. Everyone jockeys for position at the fence when they see the tree coming down, and if you don't have a good spot you don't always get to munch the best needles near the top. Oh well, even so, there is plenty of tree left to go around. Even the bark is good.
Once when I was in the house when I was a baby, I was watching tv with the farmer and I saw a Christmas tree at "The White House." (I don't get it, because our house is white too, and sometimes people say, "they live at "The White House" about a mile down from the post office." But this was a completely different house. Oh well.) This tree was huge, taller than a barn.
Now that was a good tree. That would have lasted us a week, even with the Nubians hogging to the front of the line. They said it was a spruce, though, and we don't have that kind of tree here, so I'm not sure it would have tasted as good as ours.
The only problem is that it is kind of like the day-after-Christmas sale at the mall. Everyone jockeys for position at the fence when they see the tree coming down, and if you don't have a good spot you don't always get to munch the best needles near the top. Oh well, even so, there is plenty of tree left to go around. Even the bark is good.
Once when I was in the house when I was a baby, I was watching tv with the farmer and I saw a Christmas tree at "The White House." (I don't get it, because our house is white too, and sometimes people say, "they live at "The White House" about a mile down from the post office." But this was a completely different house. Oh well.) This tree was huge, taller than a barn.
Now that was a good tree. That would have lasted us a week, even with the Nubians hogging to the front of the line. They said it was a spruce, though, and we don't have that kind of tree here, so I'm not sure it would have tasted as good as ours.
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