Here is a little bit of possibly useful information for today. You must remember, first of all, that only that which is possible can happen.
And secondly, you must remember that anything is possible.
Anyway, Betsy had her babies on Friday and they are two bucklings. One was wedged in terribly but Betsy agreed to cooperate and the farmer was able to extract him even though no one else was around to hold Betsy still. She stood very calmly - except for the screaming - while the farmer fished a leg around so that he could be pulled out. He was rather gigantic, coming head first with no feet out and his big shoulders jammed in tight.
The naming duties have been handed over to Lori since the farmer has declared intellectual bankruptcy when it comes to kid names this season. Everyone agrees that the two names Buddy and Binky (Xie Xie's kids) are possibly the worst ever. Of course, they have stuck.
Anyway, Betsy's boys are named Hap and Jolly. They seem to like milk a lot and are growing like weeds.
Little Tangy the tangerine/piranha is going to be called Moonshine Yarrow on the papers (no thanks to the farmer). You always know where she is by following the voice that's squawking, to no avail, "STOP BITING ME!"
She chews everything with her razor sharp little teeth, and delights in tormenting little Buddy and Binky. She's an awful monster but the farmer just laughs and says, "isn't that cute?" when she comes screaming out for the milk bucket like a Patriot missile.
Meanwhile the Peaches family continues to weasel its way into the Adorable Antics Hall of Fame, going everywhere and sleeping in a triplets-and-mommy pile of spots and blue eyes. Julius and Hermy are now known as "The Janitors," because instead of sweeping the farmer lets them out every evening and they eat all the spilled grain that has fallen from the feeders as the big fat ill-mannered milkers gobble their dinners on the milkstand.
"Let the janitors out," the farmer says, and the two little butterballs come scurrying into the barn aisle. Augie isn't allowed because she is too squirrelly.
The milk scale has broken, thank Buddha, and that has put a temporary end to the tiresome weighing of the milk, but it appears that Scouty is a whisker ahead of Winnie in the Dairy Sweepstakes.
And last night Lori, moved by the seeming end of the seemingly endless Democratic Primary, gave a rousing speech to all the goats in the down-below pasture, promising that we would always have our blackberry-eating jobs and they would never be outsourced to India, that no goat would be left behind, and that there would always be cob for everybody*, and that everybody* would have the right to reproductive freedom. And she thanked us for being hardworking* goats and supporting her across all breeds, and she bowed with fake humility and went trundling back to the barn with the feed cart.
*not Snow Pea, obviously