The farmer unexpectedly found an old picture of Marty, the kindest Nubian who ever lived. But you can probably tell that just from looking, even though she is asleep in the picture. She loved to sleep with her head on her little daughter Marigold.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Marty
The farmer unexpectedly found an old picture of Marty, the kindest Nubian who ever lived. But you can probably tell that just from looking, even though she is asleep in the picture. She loved to sleep with her head on her little daughter Marigold.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Pipe Gate Massage
Sometimes you can come within an inch of your life and not even know it.
And that is what happened yesterday.
Not to me, but to my Aunt Hannah Belle.
It was a red letter day. The farm had been rendered spotless. This was because the dairy inspector was coming for a visit. He came right on time and inspected all around the barn.
Even Walker the Talker, the little minimancha buckling who has something to say about everything, had been instructed to keep quiet.
The dairy inspector nodded at everyone in the barn. We nodded back, pretending to admire him. Then he put on a hairnet, which meant he was going into the dairy. The farmer went with him, and they were gone for about five minutes.
While they were gone Aunt Hannah Belle mysteriously appeared. She had been 100% banned from the barn during the inspector's visit, owing to her incorrigible behavior. In fact the farmer had put her down below with the fat girls and mended the little hole in the fence that Melly had made.
"That ought to hold you," the farmer muttered with satisfaction, having woven the field fence back together with an attractively rustic snaggle of baling twine.
Maybe the farmer shouldn't have said that.
We watched in shock and awe as she sashayed down the aisle toward the grain cans. She hannahbelled all three of them in rapid succession, spilling 150 pounds of dry cob and 14% dairy ration onto the barn floor in a seven foot swath.
She ate with lightning speed, like one of those people turned loose in a grocery store for ten minutes. Even Betsy was impressed.
Then for a change of pace she jumped onto my mountain of pea hay, knocking a few bales out of the stack while she searched for hay with the peas still on it. Even Winnie was shaken by her audacity.
A gasp went up as everyone heard the door of the dairy open. Aunt Hannah Belle scuttled away, moving like a worried crab with her feet seeming to rotate underneath her. She ran around the corner toward the pipe gate into the front pasture, and it seemed she had time to make a clean getaway, but then there came a familiar grunting noise.
She was stuck in the gate, too fat to squirt through from the angle she had chosen. Stone cold busted. The dairy inspector, three feet away, popped his eyes in surprise to see a fat little goat teetering between the pipes of the gate.
"What is that?" he said.
"Oh she gets stuck in the fence sometimes," we heard the farmer say nonchalantly. "She is a little bit fat."
"Isn't that cute?' said the dairy inspector.
"Yes," agreed the farmer grimly, looking daggers at Aunt Hannah Belle, who had shrewdly adopted the attitude of someone enjoying a nice relaxing pipe gate massage.
"Well, I better get going," said the dairy inspector. And he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. The farmer took a step into the barn, saw for the first time the hannahbelled cans and the wanton destruction of the one-goat buffet, and smoothly pirouetted back out.
"I'll walk you to your car."
And that is what happened yesterday.
Not to me, but to my Aunt Hannah Belle.
It was a red letter day. The farm had been rendered spotless. This was because the dairy inspector was coming for a visit. He came right on time and inspected all around the barn.
Even Walker the Talker, the little minimancha buckling who has something to say about everything, had been instructed to keep quiet.
The dairy inspector nodded at everyone in the barn. We nodded back, pretending to admire him. Then he put on a hairnet, which meant he was going into the dairy. The farmer went with him, and they were gone for about five minutes.
While they were gone Aunt Hannah Belle mysteriously appeared. She had been 100% banned from the barn during the inspector's visit, owing to her incorrigible behavior. In fact the farmer had put her down below with the fat girls and mended the little hole in the fence that Melly had made.
"That ought to hold you," the farmer muttered with satisfaction, having woven the field fence back together with an attractively rustic snaggle of baling twine.
Maybe the farmer shouldn't have said that.
We watched in shock and awe as she sashayed down the aisle toward the grain cans. She hannahbelled all three of them in rapid succession, spilling 150 pounds of dry cob and 14% dairy ration onto the barn floor in a seven foot swath.
She ate with lightning speed, like one of those people turned loose in a grocery store for ten minutes. Even Betsy was impressed.
Then for a change of pace she jumped onto my mountain of pea hay, knocking a few bales out of the stack while she searched for hay with the peas still on it. Even Winnie was shaken by her audacity.
A gasp went up as everyone heard the door of the dairy open. Aunt Hannah Belle scuttled away, moving like a worried crab with her feet seeming to rotate underneath her. She ran around the corner toward the pipe gate into the front pasture, and it seemed she had time to make a clean getaway, but then there came a familiar grunting noise.
She was stuck in the gate, too fat to squirt through from the angle she had chosen. Stone cold busted. The dairy inspector, three feet away, popped his eyes in surprise to see a fat little goat teetering between the pipes of the gate.
"What is that?" he said.
"Oh she gets stuck in the fence sometimes," we heard the farmer say nonchalantly. "She is a little bit fat."
"Isn't that cute?' said the dairy inspector.
"Yes," agreed the farmer grimly, looking daggers at Aunt Hannah Belle, who had shrewdly adopted the attitude of someone enjoying a nice relaxing pipe gate massage.
"Well, I better get going," said the dairy inspector. And he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. The farmer took a step into the barn, saw for the first time the hannahbelled cans and the wanton destruction of the one-goat buffet, and smoothly pirouetted back out.
"I'll walk you to your car."
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Let a Smile be Your Umbrella
The camera is broken. If it wasn't there would be a picture here of me standing in the grain bin eating all I want.
Anyway today there was a 'cloudburst.' This is where the clouds burst and the rain comes drenching out. The farmer had just gone to the store when it happened.
We were locked out in the pasture because the farmer says the milkers are too lazy and they need to stretch their legs and eat apples and not loll about in the barn all day. So the farmer locked everyone out and went to the store.
The clouds burst and everyone scattered. Aunt Blue and Mr. Jimmy and Senor Franky went running down to the fat girl pasture where they stood in the cabana screaming and taking enemy fire from the fat ladies who do not appreciate outsiders coming into their little cabana which they seem to think is some kind of luxury resort in spite of its extremely dilapidated condition.
We watched with interest as they ran in and out of the cabana. First they would run in and take enemy fire from the fat ladies and scream because of that. Then they would run out to escape the enemy fire and scream because of the cloudburst. Then when they couldn't stand the cloudburst any more they would run back in. And so on.
Up above Tangy was running in circles for no apparent reason except she is part Nubian. Winnie the Hun ran back and forth between the wellhouse and the apple tree. She couldn't decide which one blocked out more rain. Everyone else ran back and forth trying to get away from Winnie.
Did I mention us. Me and my mom just went into the barn. I am very small so I go where I want. My Mom is a Baby Belle daughter so she knows how to push on the locked gate in a certain way so she can go through it. When we got inside Aunt Hannah Belle was already in there eating pea hay.
Hello she said. Stand over there and eat only the hay that falls from my mouth onto the floor. Okay we said.
Outside the cloudburst and the screaming and running continued while we ate pea hay in a thoughtful manner.
After a while the farmer came home and let the drenched milkers back into the barn. But not before running and calling for me. I signalled to be picked up and the farmer carried me over to the grain bin to eat all I wanted.
"I'm glad you did not get wet," said the farmer. "You might catch cold."
I looked over at the milkers. They were angry as hornets and sopping wet to the bone. Drowned rats is one phrase that comes to mind. How sad, I thought, eating my grain.
Anyway today there was a 'cloudburst.' This is where the clouds burst and the rain comes drenching out. The farmer had just gone to the store when it happened.
We were locked out in the pasture because the farmer says the milkers are too lazy and they need to stretch their legs and eat apples and not loll about in the barn all day. So the farmer locked everyone out and went to the store.
The clouds burst and everyone scattered. Aunt Blue and Mr. Jimmy and Senor Franky went running down to the fat girl pasture where they stood in the cabana screaming and taking enemy fire from the fat ladies who do not appreciate outsiders coming into their little cabana which they seem to think is some kind of luxury resort in spite of its extremely dilapidated condition.
We watched with interest as they ran in and out of the cabana. First they would run in and take enemy fire from the fat ladies and scream because of that. Then they would run out to escape the enemy fire and scream because of the cloudburst. Then when they couldn't stand the cloudburst any more they would run back in. And so on.
Up above Tangy was running in circles for no apparent reason except she is part Nubian. Winnie the Hun ran back and forth between the wellhouse and the apple tree. She couldn't decide which one blocked out more rain. Everyone else ran back and forth trying to get away from Winnie.
Did I mention us. Me and my mom just went into the barn. I am very small so I go where I want. My Mom is a Baby Belle daughter so she knows how to push on the locked gate in a certain way so she can go through it. When we got inside Aunt Hannah Belle was already in there eating pea hay.
Hello she said. Stand over there and eat only the hay that falls from my mouth onto the floor. Okay we said.
Outside the cloudburst and the screaming and running continued while we ate pea hay in a thoughtful manner.
After a while the farmer came home and let the drenched milkers back into the barn. But not before running and calling for me. I signalled to be picked up and the farmer carried me over to the grain bin to eat all I wanted.
"I'm glad you did not get wet," said the farmer. "You might catch cold."
I looked over at the milkers. They were angry as hornets and sopping wet to the bone. Drowned rats is one phrase that comes to mind. How sad, I thought, eating my grain.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
HRH MILLIE
Yesterday we got to go out with the big goats. We went to the orchard pasture and then we all went out into the summer meadow where there is free grass and brush. The grass was over my head so I started crying in a dignified fashion.
No one came for me probably because they were all stuffing their faces with free hay.
So then I started screaming at the top of my lungs because what else could I do.
None of my friends or relatives came. Later my mother said, "I heard you but I could tell you weren't hurt and I was busy."
Busy eating.
There was a big crashing noise of a large creature running through the brush and then the farmer picked me up. I was way up in the air and I could see everything. Down below in the meadow all the goats were eating buckbrush and canary grass.
Winnie the Hun was eating hardhack. Big Orange was snuffling around the pears that had fallen off the pear tree. Zane Gray was up on the old oil tank that had rolled down the hill. How did he get up there?
I could see everything. I was like a Queen.
Later we were up in the front pasture playing and I saw the farmer. I ran over to the farmer so that the farmer could pick me up.
I looked out and down below I could see the fat ladies crowding along the fenceline clamoring for pea hay.
The farmer carried me into the barn and put me down in the grain bin so I could eat all I wanted. I was standing on a mountain of goat candy. I was like a Queen.
Then the farmer carried me over to the stacks of pea hay which no one is allowed to touch because it is like gold. The farmer put me on top of one of the bales so I could eat all I wanted. I was like a Queen.
The farmer's friend from Longbranch came over and saw me standing on top of the wall of pea hay.
"You better be careful," said the farmer's friend. "You will spoil her. She is just a little goat."
"I will try to remember that," said the farmer, brushing the pea hay out of my beautiful coat.
I was like a Queen.
Friday, July 31, 2009
From the West
The Wind came! The beautiful beautiful sweet ocean-cool wind from the West! And we were turned free!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Big Sizzle
Today was a frightening day. It was the hottest day ever in Seattle, 102 degrees. In the shade on our porch at 6:30 it was 103 degrees.
Wendell the pest is a boston bulldog and he started having a heatstroke and had to go in the shower where he knocked over all the shampoos and conditioners not to mention the sea salts and loofahs in an effort to escape from his life-saving treatment. Then he had to wear a bag of frozen peas around his neck. Nobody looks very good in peas, and Wendell is no exception.
But that wasn't the frightening part. The horses also had to have showers and then they rolled in the dust completely coating themselves with dusty mud so that we went from a blond horse and a paint horse and an appaloosa horse to three black horses.
But that wasn't scary.
The scary part was when we were lying in the cooling center in the middle of the afternoon and we suddenly saw a large albino creature approaching in the distance. The creature was huffing and puffing and Zane Gray and me quickly hurried over under our mother to stay out of its way. But it came right for us on a beeline and then it bent over and picked Zane Gray up and I closed my eyes in fear. Oh dear, I thought. Why couldn't it take Frank, the little pill?
But I didn't hear any screaming so I opened my eyes after a minute.
"Don't be afraid," said my mother. "It is just the farmer. In a pair of bermuda shorts."
Very very frightening.
Wendell the pest is a boston bulldog and he started having a heatstroke and had to go in the shower where he knocked over all the shampoos and conditioners not to mention the sea salts and loofahs in an effort to escape from his life-saving treatment. Then he had to wear a bag of frozen peas around his neck. Nobody looks very good in peas, and Wendell is no exception.
But that wasn't the frightening part. The horses also had to have showers and then they rolled in the dust completely coating themselves with dusty mud so that we went from a blond horse and a paint horse and an appaloosa horse to three black horses.
But that wasn't scary.
The scary part was when we were lying in the cooling center in the middle of the afternoon and we suddenly saw a large albino creature approaching in the distance. The creature was huffing and puffing and Zane Gray and me quickly hurried over under our mother to stay out of its way. But it came right for us on a beeline and then it bent over and picked Zane Gray up and I closed my eyes in fear. Oh dear, I thought. Why couldn't it take Frank, the little pill?
But I didn't hear any screaming so I opened my eyes after a minute.
"Don't be afraid," said my mother. "It is just the farmer. In a pair of bermuda shorts."
Very very frightening.
The Dangerous Case of Mr. Jimmy
Because of the horrible unprecedented heat here in the Northwest I am once again stuck inside with my two cousin-brothers Jimmy and Frank. They are a few days older than me and Zane Gray. Frank is handsome, he is blue-silver with blue eyes and black boots. But as far as personality he is called "the little pill." This is funny because he isn't little. He is very chubby.
On the other hand Mr. Jimmy has the personality of an angel, which happens quite frequently in my family, which is known as the Baby Belle family if you have never heard of us. Usually though it is Aunt Hannah Belle's sons who somehow manage to develop the highly refined family sweetness, perhaps because Aunt Hannah Belle is not only a Baby Belle daughter but also a Marquee daughter.
But anyway Mr. Jimmy is gaining fast on some of the classic sweet Baby Belle Boys of yesteryear, and this is making the farmer very nervous. This morning the farmer was scratching Mr. Jimmy's back and he closed his eyes halfway and snuggled up under the farmer's chin.
"Stop that, Mr. Jimmy," the farmer said. "You know there is a strict policy of no wethers here."
Welcome to Phoenix
Well they said it is going to be 103 degrees today which will smash all previous records for the highest temperature. Not only that but it is going to stay hot all through the weekend after they had promised that the temperature would go back down on Saturday and Sunday. This causes the farmer to milk the milkers at 10 p.m. which previously was an hour past the farmer's bedtime. And this also causes a great of anguished screaming in the morning because previously the breakfast time was 6 or 7 and now the breakfast cart does not come around until 9 or 10. Which frees up two or three hours for complaints and whining.
Some aren't that noisy about it but some must always bellow their outrage to the bleachers. Aggie the plus-sized miniature Nubian who looks like a tiny beached whale is one of the loudest complainers. She gets into a panicky state whenever her blood sugar drops below 100,000.
She is down there right now hollering "I FEEL FAINT! I FEEL FAINT!"
"Well," said the farmer this morning, "we have the cheese, so I guess we could also open a whinery."
Some aren't that noisy about it but some must always bellow their outrage to the bleachers. Aggie the plus-sized miniature Nubian who looks like a tiny beached whale is one of the loudest complainers. She gets into a panicky state whenever her blood sugar drops below 100,000.
She is down there right now hollering "I FEEL FAINT! I FEEL FAINT!"
"Well," said the farmer this morning, "we have the cheese, so I guess we could also open a whinery."
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Cooling Center
Zane Gray and me forgot to act sensible yesterday when we went out, so we haven't learned our lesson. We are going to be confined to the barn. This is our cooling center. Jimmy and Frank are also confined. I don't understand it because Bubbles and Pinky are running free and they haven't got a lick of sense. Yesterday Bubbles ran headfirst into the feeder. And Pinky is a well-known special needs goat, no offense to her because she is part Nubian, but Ziggy has to head-butt her inside when it starts raining. If this is called sensible then what can you do. Anyway tomorrow they say the heat could be triple digits, unlike Pinky's IQ, so we won't be allowed out then either.
Also P.S. Zinnia is allowed out and she tried to eat a ball of baling twine.
Also P.S. Zinnia is allowed out and she tried to eat a ball of baling twine.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Interesting Times
It is interesting when you find out things. I just found out my brother zanegray's name is really Zane Gray. Interesting.
Also, I thought we lived on a nice cool farm where the main kind of weather would be patchy morning fog. It turns out where we live is actually stifling hot and no one can stop talking about it. Interesting.
People came over and they were saying things like. "Goodness it's hot," or "is it hot enough for you?"
One lady came over and she said, "is it hot enough for you?" and then she laughed and laughed. I guess this is some kind of joke, although I noticed the farmer did not laugh. I think it must be hot enough for anyone, certainly for the farmer.
I have not seen a lot of farmers, really only one, our one that lives here. But I noticed our farmer is somewhat on the round side, and does not seem to like the exceeding hotness we are having, which is predicted to last all week. They are saying that it is going to be 100 degrees in Seattle in the middle of the week.
The farmer's friend came over and told the farmer that even though it was 92 today it was going to be much hotter in the middle of the week. I wondered what the farmer would say and sure enough, just as I would have guessed, the farmer said, "that's interesting."
But with a stony stony stony face.
Hmm, I thought. Interesting.
Also, I thought we lived on a nice cool farm where the main kind of weather would be patchy morning fog. It turns out where we live is actually stifling hot and no one can stop talking about it. Interesting.
People came over and they were saying things like. "Goodness it's hot," or "is it hot enough for you?"
One lady came over and she said, "is it hot enough for you?" and then she laughed and laughed. I guess this is some kind of joke, although I noticed the farmer did not laugh. I think it must be hot enough for anyone, certainly for the farmer.
I have not seen a lot of farmers, really only one, our one that lives here. But I noticed our farmer is somewhat on the round side, and does not seem to like the exceeding hotness we are having, which is predicted to last all week. They are saying that it is going to be 100 degrees in Seattle in the middle of the week.
The farmer's friend came over and told the farmer that even though it was 92 today it was going to be much hotter in the middle of the week. I wondered what the farmer would say and sure enough, just as I would have guessed, the farmer said, "that's interesting."
But with a stony stony stony face.
Hmm, I thought. Interesting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)