Gulliver's Travels. And Also Halfway's.

Well yesterday was a work day at the farm, like every other day, but this time there were helpers to do some of the 10,000 things that need to be done including fixing some fences and reattaching a blown-off roof to the buck shed and clearing the brush from the hot wire and so on.

Anyway it was supposed to also be picture day for Wronny's bucklings, Gulliver and Halfway. But right at the start of the work day the farmer let them out to browse the barnyard with Wronny. One of the kids was supposed to be watching them, I won't name names but it was Seth. The reason he was supposed to watch them is if you don't watch them they toddle off after they have drunk about a gallon of milk and they find a hiding place and they conk out like a light into a  milk stupor and then you can't find them. Once they are in a  milk stupor they sleep for hours.

Anyway after about five minutes the farmer asked Seth where they were because Wronny was walking around without them and Seth said, "who?"

Okay so they were gone and at first the farmer looked for them halfheartedly in the usual places - behind the sheets of plywood, over by the log pile, under the fence posts, etc. Then the farmer forgot about them. The whole morning ticked by.

Then the farmer started looking for them wholeheartedly and even then they couldn't be found. After five or six hours people started to get a little nervous. Perhaps they have been snatched up by an eagle or something or joined the circus.

Okay anyway no thanks to the farmer they were finally discovered under the porch of the main house where they had been planning to enjoy an 8-hour milk stupor but after only six hours they were dragged out into the light of day and returned to their rightful owner, just as everyone was getting ready to leave.

So they didn't get their pictures taken. If they had it would have been a picture of two fast-asleep bucklings, both exceedingly strapping and handsome, one black with white trim and his father's quizzical expression, and one with a big white belly band like a giant Oreo cookie.

So if you can picture that in your mind's eye it will have to do for now.

Portrait Gallery

Wronny and Jammies are doing very well. Why shouldn't they, with 24 hour room service. They are getting the new goat grain that is only for milkers and they love it. Also they get nutter butters and fig newtons, which I don't think is fair.

Wronny's two sons have turned out to be so handsome that they will have their portraits taken today. Meanwhile Buckles has learned to walk properly, woop-dee-doo. Jinx has not done anything interesting but for some reason people can't stop picking her up and carrying her around and talking baby talk to her. It's rather embarrassing to watch but I suppose it attracts attention away from that annoying Butter Belle. 

The portraits will go right underneath here when they are ready.

That's How We Got Here

Well a lot has been happening here, probably too much, first of all after many years of waiting Wronny finally went into labor for real. As soon as the farmer left for town to run errands.

If you would like to jinx somebody when they have their kids, the best thing to do is tell everybody how easy it is for them, how they are a top professional and never need any help. Do that, like the farmer did, then go to town.

So Wronny started trying to have her kids and she just wasn't getting anywhere. The farmer came home a couple of hours later and found her, wrung out with pushing, and just a head sticking out, a big head.

"I'm sorry Wronny," the farmer said, and through some kind of miracle the farmer was able to get one leg around and then a mighty tug of war ensued and finally the kid flopped out like a fish. This kid was a gigantic buck kid and no offense to him but he was one of the deadest looking little gentlemen you ever saw but the farmer spanked and spanked him and swung him around and after about three minutes he spluttered, just like the farmer's Stihl chain saw that won't even pop and causes all kinds of blue language and then finally blurts to life.

Then comes the next one, only very slightly better, this one has a head like a basketball and one leg back and the farmer can't get the second leg so there is nothing for it but another mighty tug of war and this guy plops out and he isn't that much easier to start, both of them have been stuck in there for a while and they are not firing on all cylinders.

And then the farmer bounces Wronny and feels a slight bounce, then bounces again and nothing. And again, and nothing. And so the farmer brings Wronny a special drink, and some alfalfa and cookies and calcium, and goes to let everybody else in and do the milking and the rest of the chores. And when the farmer checks on Wronny about an hour later she looks okay.

But not quite right. Something isn't quite right.

Well the next time the farmer comes back Wronny still hasn't passed her placenta and she still doesn't look right so the farmer decides there is nothing for it but to go in and sure enough there is another kid in there and this kid is about as stuck as you can get and it takes ten minutes of flipping and rearranging and end-of-the-world bellowing and finally the last buck kid comes out but the farmer cannot get him started.

He gets the full 911 but he will not start.

"I'm sorry Wronny," says the farmer and Wronny being a queen reacts in a dignified fashion not mentioning that she never goes to town when the farmer needs help, and after nuzzling the third triplet gently for a couple of minutes she turns her attention graciously to her two other bucklings and the farmer decides then and there to let her keep them instead of making them bottle babies.

It seems like the right thing to do.

Ok fine a couple of days pass and then Jammies goes into labor and if you aren't satisfied with jinxing just one kidding, be sure and invite someone over to watch the next one and that should guarantee another jinx.

Jammies starts to push and the farmer sets the timer for one hour, this is the inflexible ONE HOUR RULE.

If you are ever wondering how long should you wait after your doe starts pushing before you do something, here is the answer you have been looking for. WAIT ONE HOUR.

Well the timer gets to 57 minutes and the farmer goes and washes up and comes back and starts in to poking around and there is no nose to be found, and there are no toes. The nose-and-toes position, which is the position you always want, is not happening.

All right then starts in the bellowing and the fishing and the farmer is getting a very perplexed look and finally out comes a tiny little pancake of a doeling and it is immediately apparent that there isn't really any point in the 911, the little doeling was never made for this world, so back in and what a tangle it is getting the next one out but my goodness it is a normal one and after a kindly thrashing it is wide awake and raring to go, and then back in, and yes, there is another, only this one is UPSIDE DOWN, laying on her back with her toes to the sky, and it takes some swirling but she comes out and agrees to breathe and after a bit she looks like she will make it only she won't be able to walk properly for a while because of her tendons being so horribly contracted but that is nothing of any importance.

And so that's what happened. It wasn't easy by any means but Gulliver and Halfway were born, and so were Buckles and Jinx.

Triplet bucks, then triplet does. Things could have gone better. But they could have gone a lot worse.

So that's how we got here. And here we are.

Dear Diary

The little fat one Clara Belle gets carried around a lot. It runs up to the farmer simpering the way Moldy used to do. Then it jumps up on the farmer which isn't supposed to be allowed. Then it gets picked up and carried around, preening down on everyone with a simper from high above with lordly airs. I really don't like that one. I hope I do not see it get carried to the grain bin. If I do I will make a black mark in my book and a mental note to t-bone it when it comes down in our pasture. When the farmer isn't looking, obviously.

Eo is keeping a detailed list of grievances against it so I will add mine in there also.

1. Simpering
2. Preening
3. Jumping up (not allowed)
4. Lordly airs
5. Obesity

are - oh - see

Well the samples went to the lab and Cherry's milk came back 6% butterfat, that explains the sleepyheadedness of the population when placed on Cherry milk. It also explains Clara Belle's waistline, since Iota's milk came back over 8% butterfat. But it doesn't explain Betty's stingy mark of 3.2% butterfat, that doesn't really make sense, unless the milk tester sort of forgot to mix the milk right with the dipper, and took all the milk off the top for Iota and Cherry's samples, and off the bottom for Betty. Anyway we'll see what happens next time.

In other news the milkers and babies got to go out in the front pasture with Willen the Haflinger who is too fat to go in the back and eat nice grass with the other horses who are enjoying some delicious red top. There isn't much grass there since Willen ate it all but there is a large thicket of blackberries poking through the fenceline.

The horseshoer came over and he was in a mood and he used a lot of colorful sayings, including "that's a ration of crap," which is what he says when he hears something preposterous like the cost of vet bills or how much the hospitals charge to take out a little kidney stone the size of a pea.

They charge a lot, and "that's a ration of crap."

Feel free to use this expression if you need to, it comes in handy, if you are in polite society you can say, "that's an R - O - C."

If you still do not understand what it means, here are some examples of how to use it:

a.) Wronny still has not had her babies, and that's an R - O - C.

b) The grass hay has gotten very stale, and that's an R - O - C.

c) They didn't tell us the electric fence was back on, and that's an R - O - C.

( phonetically: are - oh - see. )

The Circles that you find...

We have all become very concerned about Clara Belle.

Her brother went to his new home and Clara Belle has been forced to drink all of Iota's milk. We didn't get the results back yet, but judging by her waistline I think it must be about 10% butterfat. In fact I was going to suggest if it isn't too late maybe her name could be changed to Butter Belle. Or possibly Beach Belle.

By this time she is about twice the size of Midget, who is quite a bit older, and she shows no sign of slowing down.

"How adorable," the visitors say when she comes stampeding toward them to be picked up.

"Oh dear," they say, when they try to lift her.

"Try this one," the farmer will say, and hand them Mango, who weighs about two pounds, or LGO (the little gray one). Even Clover weighs about half as much as Clara Belle.

Meanwhile Coco and Coffee have retained a surprising amount of Nubianity, considering that by this time they are only 1/16th Nubian.

Yesterday when everyone came into the barn for dinner they all ran into the usual stalls, except Coco who started running in a circle and jumping off the milk stands in the aisle. She went around once, and then twice, and then three times, and by that time the farmer had closed all the doors to shut everyone in and just stood staring at Coco.

Even Pinky was perplexed and asked Coco what she was doing.

"I am running in a circle! A circle goes around and around," she answered, panting. "Forever!"

The farmer snatched her up and dropped her over the stall door, or I think she would still be out there putting her views on geometry into action.

I hope she doesn't start trying to run in a trapezoid. Or a parabola.

We continue to be sobered by the circles that we find in the windmills of the Nubian mind.

Wronny's Kids....

....Still did not get born.

"This is a little ridiculous, Wronny," said the farmer, showing Wronny the calendar where it was marked in ink that she was going to kid in March.

"It is MAY now."

Wronny chewed her cud impassively.

The farmer showed a list of names of people waiting to take cheesemaking classes where they milk the professional goats and then make cheese.

"Do you want these people to have to milk Cherry?"

Wronny chewed her cud impassively.

"Or perhaps you think they would like to milk Iota?"

Iota's style of milking is that she gobbles the food as fast as she can with one half of her mouth while at the same time emitting a constant only slightly muffled high-pitched scream with the other half. This is really an astonishing trick, it is like something you would see in Las Vegas. Not on the Strip but maybe out on one of the side streets. Pretty far out, actually. In the desert, maybe.

Also while screaming she kicks one of her back legs in a sort of sidestroke motion so that she looks like a little white frog.

The funny part is that she has improved almost 51% since she started: in the beginning she wouldn't eat at all and just devoted herself to kicking both legs and splitting everyone's eardrums with a completely unmuffled banshee howl.

"This is why Nigerians get a bad reputation," the farmer said darkly to Betty, like it is Betty's fault because Iota is her daughter. Betty chewed her cud impassively. "She gets that from her father," she told us when the farmer went away.

"I want those kids on the ground, Wronny," the farmer blathered on. "And no more false alarms. Stop pretending to wax over and loosen your ligaments. Do you hear me?"

Wronny chewed her cud impassively.

Meanwhile while all the charts were being reviewed Poppy popped out a set of triplet doelings without any sermon from the farmer and after a short stay in the delivery room they were ushered out to mix with the other  mothers and babies and this was an occasion for another lecture.

"I do not want anyone bothering Poppy," the farmer harangued the other mothers. " She is very shy and sweet and I do not want any of you monsters bothering her or her triplets. Does everyone understand me?"

Betty, Iota, and Cherry chewed their cuds impassively.

An hour or so later the farmer came out to check the baby stall and Poppy had pinned the other mothers to the far wall with a series of masterful head flips, backed up by skillful earbiting and Sugar Ray Leonard style body blows. Poppy and her triplets lived inside an imaginary line that cut the stall in half. The other mothers and kids lived in the other half.

The hay feeder and the water bucket - you guessed it - were on Poppy's side.

You never know what motherhood will do for someone.

"Hmm," mused the farmer. "Maybe Poppy could train Iota how to milk properly."

Milk Master Midget

Well the milk test day has come and gone.

Here is what happened.

Coco Plum slept the whole day since she was planning to do that anyway.

Coffee Bean escaped from the barn but since she is part Nubian she did not know she had escaped and she ran back in and was reapprehended. But since she is part Nubian she did not know she was reapprehended so she was just relieved. She would not take a bottle but drank freely from the farmer's elbow. Since she is part Nubian she did not know that there is no milk in the elbow.

Write this down if you are making a chart or something: there are no (zero) mammary glands in the elbow.

Anyway the mind is a powerful organ even in a Nubian and after drinking her fill of elbow milk Coffee was convinced that she needed a nap and she nodded off as usual.

Cubby and Clover guzzled freely from the bottles that were provided. For a while it was feared that Cubby might explode.

Horatio drank sparingly, just enough to get by. Clara Belle drank only a little, but gobbled extra hay.

At 9 a.m. Midget guaranteed that his gallbladder would explode if he were not reunited immediately with his beloved mother. He sang heartbreaking spirituals to himself to keep hope alive. Nobody knew the trouble he had seen. How could they?

At 10 a.m. Midget refused the bottle. "I will never drink from that bottle!" he screamed.

At 11 a.m. Midget refused the bottle.  "Please come and take me!" he beseeched the sky. "My suffering is too great for this world!"

I felt like clapping. It was quite a Passion Play.

At noon Midget refused the bottle. At 2 p.m. Midget refused the bottle.

At 3 p.m. Midget guzzled exhaustively from the bottle with a speed and dexterity not seen since the days when Tangy was a bottle baby. It was feared he might explode. A murmur of awe went up from the gallery.

When you see a Milk Master, a true Milk Master,  you must tip your hat, one professional to another.

Well played, Midget.

The Sorrow and The Pity and the Deaf Ears

The farmer explained to the mothers that they would be going out with the fat ladies today and the babies would not be going with them because the mothers are going on milk test and they need to bag up.

The babies cried. And then the mothers cried.

The mothers went out and joined the scrum at the feeders and it was a beautiful day and the babies stayed in the barn. The mothers gobbled at the feeders, crying together in a low hum, with their mouths full. The farmer started sweeping out the barn.

Clover is the smartest one of the babies and she screamed at the top of her lungs when she saw the farmer. "I HAVE AN IDEA!"

The farmer just kept sweeping.

"CAN YOU COME HERE PLEASE!" screamed Clover. "I HAVE AN IDEA!"

The farmer backed the tractor out to go get the flatbed and hitch it to the truck.

 "I CAN TEST THE MILK FOR YOU!" screamed Clover. "I KNOW HOW TO DO IT! I HAVE BEEN DOING IT MY WHOLE LIFE!"

The farmer hitched the tractor to the flatbed. The mothers finished gobbling and started crying.

 "ALSO I REMEMBER NOW," screamed Clover, "I JUST TESTED THE MILK AND IT IS FINE. I TESTED IT YESTERDAY! IT'S FINE! A+!"

The farmer rolled the fencing off the flatbed and pulled it out to the driveway.

"EXCUSE ME," screamed Clover, "MIDGET IS HAVING AN ANXIETY ATTACK! HE IS A MAMA'S BOY!"

"THAT'S TRUE!" screamed Betty from the other side of the fence.

"AND I THINK HIS GALLBLADDER JUST POPPED!"

"I HEARD IT!" screamed Cubby. 

The farmer went and got the truck and hitched it to the flatbed.

"MIDGET JUST FAINTED!" Clover bellowed. "AND COCO IS HAVING A BRAIN HERNIA!"

The farmer got in the truck and drove away.

"I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY!" screamed Clover. 

"I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY!" screamed the mothers.

The truck disappeared, heading down the road toward Home.