The Blessed Rain

Thank God for the rain, the blessed rain. That's what the farmer is saying.

The farmer is very tired out by haying, and the rain has put a temporary stop to it. In case you haven't heard, you have to make hay while the sun shines.

When it rains, you can lie around moaning about your tired muscles for a day or two until the haying resumes.

Here are some tips for haying, if you ever have to do it.

1. If you are considering haying, first of all have a dozen or so children, preferably boys or burly girls. Feed them a lot of pancakes and homeschool them so they don't hear a lot of foolish talk about child labor laws. (They will have to be your own children; you won't be able to make anyone else's children hay for you.)

2. When you are picking up hay in the field, use your hay hooks. If you pick up the hay by the strings, you will hurt your hands, and much more importantly, you will mess up the hay bales.

3. Don't pick up messed up hay bales. Just go on to the next bale. The people who don't get to the hayfield on time can have all the messed up smiley bales. These bales won't stack nicely.

4. When you are building your hay stack, make sure all the bales on the bottom are really nice. Iffy bales can go on top.

5. Don't pick up bales in the hayfield when it is 95 degrees.

6. Call up your city friends and tell them you are having a "hay party." It will be so much fun and so quaint! Working like a dog in the hot sun picking up actual hay bales for actual animals to eat! It is just like a reality show, only even more real!

7. Bring a sixpack of nice cold beer for the hay man.

8. Deliver the choicest hay to your favorite goat. (That's me, Baby Belle.)

The Adventures of GoatBoy

Peanut did not get the memo that he is not a normal goat, even though the farmer insists he isn't.

Today he was out climbing the goat tree in the horse pasture while the horses are at summer camp.

He seems to think he is a normal goatboy. In fact he is much more of a hooligan than his big handsome brother Zilla, who bursts into tears whenever he can't see his mama for 15 seconds or longer.

Peanut is the only goat who has been in the sacred cheese room. Anyone else would have been spanked for going in there.

The Hay

The Hay.

The Hay is ready.

It is out in the field in Longbranch and the farmer is going to get it. The Hay is on a heartbreaking hillside overlooking Carr Inlet near Driftwood Point, where it has been enjoying the sunshine and the delicious breezes off the Sound.

The Hay is beautiful this year. But then, I think The Hay is beautiful every year. I love The Hay.

The farmer loves The Hay too, but also hates it. The Hay smells good and makes all the animals happy, but you have to pay for it, either through the nose or through the muscles, and you have to worry about it.

Is The Hay too dry? Is The Hay too wet? Was The Hay cut too soon? Was it cut too late? Is there enough of it? Is there too much of it? Would the Skokomish Valley hay have been better? Will there be enough room for the alfalfa when it comes?

This year The Farmer is paying for The Hay through the muscles, by going out into the field to pick it up, and load it on the trailer, and drive it back to the farm, and unload it from the trailer, and stack it in the barn.

This will be much cheaper than having The Hay delivered.

But it is very exhausting, so the farmer is very grumpy, and Lori is even grumpier, because Lori doesn't love-hate The Hay like the farmer, she just hates it.

As for me, maybe I mentioned it, I love The Hay.

The Hay is beautiful, and sweet. And The Hay smells like Forever. If anyone ever asks you what Forever is like, just tell them Forever is like The Hay.

They will either know what you mean, or they won't, but in any case, The Hay will be here long after they are gone, so it doesn't really matter.

To The Hay: I love you.

The Hay.

Peanut's Progress

When you used to see my grandson Peanut running, you would say to yourself, "run, Forrest, run."

This was because Peanut had a very wooden way of running and not the usual ultra-nimble baby goat caper. The baby goats do not need any half-pipe for their aerial stunts and displays. And they do not need a skateboard either. They just naturally know how to fly.

But Peanut went sort of squeaking along like the Tin Man, like there wasn't enough oil in his joints.

I don't know why but when the visitor humans all saw him, they would say, "Bless his heart." Which I guess is some kind of human insult, because they don't say that when they see the regular baby goats doing 360s off the barn wall. But when they saw Peanut they used to say, "Bless his heart."

Now when the visitor humans come to see Peanut the miracle baby they look at Hannah Belle's triplets for a while and then they say, "which one is he?"

Because it is very hard to tell Peanut from a normal baby now. First of all he has just about tripled in size. And second he walks and runs and capers and tries to jump on his mother's back and chews her beard when he gets a chance and wiggles under the stall boards to go outside with the big babies, which isn't allowed but of course all the little babies do it.

Only the farmer insists that Peanut is not normal. I think this is because the farmer agreed with Lori that Peanut would have to stay here and couldn't ever go to a new home because he wasn't quite normal, in spite of there being a strict rule against wethers here. And so the farmer points Peanut out to the visitors and says, "if you watch him for a while you will see that he is not normal. But you have to watch him for a while."

And so the visitors stare at Peanut. And the farmer says sadly, "Bless his heart."

Cheese Flavors

The farmer has been trying to think of new flavors of soft cheese and I have offered to help but none of my suggestions have been taken. I suggested perhaps a new alfalfa-flavored cheese or possibly a peanut cheese. Another thing that might be good would be a cheese with hints of cob, or a pea-vine cheese, or a banana-peel cheese (this could be marketed to Nubians, they would go crazy for it), or a ginger-snap cheese or a vanilla-wafer cheese with notes of ordinary garden weeds (those spindly ones with the ugly little yellow flowers that nobody knows what they are but they taste good). Then I suggested blackberry-leaf cheese. Blackberry leaves are one of my favorite meals, also salal. None of these suggestions have been taken which puts me at my wits' end. Perhaps you have a better idea.

But I doubt it.