Spring Blizzard Approaching

Every year in the fall there comes a day when four or five does come into heat at the same time.

"Oh how convenient," says the farmer. "I can take them all in to be bred and mark them off the list."

Five months later in the spring they all have their kids at the same time, causing the farmer to become (even more) bleary-eyed and short-tempered.

"Oh how inconvenient," says the farmer. "Remind me not to do that again."

Luckily at least Maddy went ahead of schedule with her mud-pit Easter Bunnies. And my mother Belle Pepper helpfully fooled the farmer and did not settle. That's good, I like being an only child.

But now Boxcar Betty, Blue Umbrella, and the sacred Jammies are lining up on the runway.

Fasten your seatbelts. There's a baby blizzard on the radar.

Bunny and Morchella

Easter Bunnies

I am only eight months old so obviously I still enjoy milk. But I have noticed lately that my mother has gotten much shorter and when I go to get the milk sometimes I can't quite fit under her and she actually goes up in the air like if you picked up a wheelbarrow. Because she is so short I guess. It's kind of odd, I used to fit all the way under there.

I hope she doesn't get too much shorter because it's a little bit inconvenient.

Today was Easter here and it was supposed to be a holiday with nothing on the schedule and the farmer was going to go and hunt for some morels because it is morel season. So the farmer did the chores and milked everybody and then went to feed the bucket babies and then heard some high-pitched distant baby screaming.

"What the goodness," said the farmer, and counted the triplets. Two sets makes six. One, two, three, four, five, six.

"What the goodness," said the farmer. Well, maybe it was Abbie and Amarillo, Moldy's twins, yelling about something. Just then they ran silently past. The baby screaming continued.

"What the goodness," said the farmer, looking around like a beagle at a foxhunt.

Maddy had gone behind the barn into the muddiest mud pit on the farm where the tractor even got stuck and had a set of twins three days ahead of schedule. Both were covered with mud and yelling angrily. Maddy was gazing into the distance in puzzlement, perhaps considering updating her Facebook page.

She tiptoed discreetly away from the two little babies as they tried to advance toward her.

The farmer came and got them out of the mud.

"Two little easter bunnies," said the farmer. "No morels."

Goat Glossary

Backsnack (verb, noun): to glean delicious morsels from another goat's back, to backsnack.

Usage:

"I enjoyed a nice backsnack when I stood next to Jammies at the feeder. Her woolly coat is like an alfalfa lint brush."

"I couldn't backsnack because I was stuck next to Peaches, and she has no undercoat."

Miracle Mac

If you are a person and you break your leg you have to waddle around for months with a cast. This is bad because you only have two legs. And one of them is broken. So half your legs are broken, and you were probably slow and ungainly to begin with. No offense to you, but you know what I mean.

I have seen people who were three or four or five times taller than a Nigerian, and they cannot even jump over a fence as tall as their middle. It's sad. Very sad.

Whereas Aunt Hannah Belle, who is 23 inches tall at the withers, used to be able to jump five feet before her waistline expanded. Now she can only jump four.

Anyway Mac the baby goat broke his leg ten days ago. Yesterday they took the cast off.

Fixed. One more example of goat superiority.

Without those thumbs, the people species would have died out a long time ago.

Grass Thief

Tommy the grumpy appaloosa owns all the grass around here. In this photo Moldy hides behind a locust tree so he will not see her eating his grass.

Just looking for some missing earrings, Tommy. Pay no attention.

Headed Out This Morning, Into the Sun

Wronny's bland babies finally got their names. There are two boys and one girl. The super sweet boy is going to be named Spud. The smart one is going to be named Ivar.

The girl had to have an A name. Every person who came said why not Annie? Or why not Ann? Or why not Anna? Anna Banana? One person said how about Anne-Marie?

Anyway her name is not going to be Ann or Anne-Marie. Her name is going to be Anastasia, like the Grand Duchess. She is very imperial.

But I guess everyone will probably just call her Annie.

Dreamboat Annie.

Ship of dreams.

Excuse Me, Sir, Which Way to the Milk Bar?

Double Triplets

Wronny had her kids yesterday exactly by the book as usual. She had a set of triplets, just like Joy. Very boring, just like Joy's. But much bigger and louder. They've been complaining since they got here.

Wronny went right back to work on the milkstand without batting an eye.

"I would not take a thousand dollars for that doe," the farmer said, to no one in particular.

Of course that is easy to say when no one has offered a thousand dollars.

But anyway that's what the farmer said.

Abilene and Amarillo

Joy Division

Joy had three triplets this morning.

There is a large one, a medium one, and a small one. They cry and they sleep and that's it.

No personality whatsoever.

My Special Day

Yesterday was warm and cold and sunny and cloudy and calm and windy and a little bit showery and then it snowed. It is hard to dress for that kind of weather.

Joy the sweetest LaMancha is as big as a house and going to kid this afternoon.

The farmer said yesterday I was going to get special attention because I haven't gotten any attention at all because everyone just pays attention to Melody's two spindly little daughters.

But then I didn't get any attention because the farmer had to go and get the grain and then unload it moaning and wheezing and grunting in a very dramatic fashion which did not draw any applause or interest from the audience.

Then the farmer got the kidding stall ready for Joy. Then Peaches started acting sick for no reason and wouldn't eat her grain so the farmer had to go and cut some branches for Peaches.

Then the farmer had to switch Tommy's blanket. What's the difference which blanket he has on? They don't have any fashion shows around here for grumpy old nags.

Oh then big surprise there was no more time for my special attention.

I don't care, why should I.