STARTLING FACTS

Today is Wednesday. It is a day of startling FACTS.

I will use CAPS to draw your attention to these FACTS in case you are feeling sleepy.

The SUN is shining BRIGHTLY in spite of the fact that it is NOVEMBER.  They say that it will not RAIN for at least the NEXT WEEK. I personally do not believe it but I will wait and see what happens.

WRONNY our herdqueen has been DRIED OFF. Wronny is five and she has been milking since she was a yearling with only about six weeks off in all that time.  She does not like being dried off and it has not improved her personality.

I am IN HEAT and I have been denied my CONJUGAL rights and I am going to do something about it. In case you are wondering I feel very EMPHATIC today.

Those are the startling facts. Now for some not so startling facts.

Pinky is NOT GETTING ANY SMARTER.

Brandy is NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER.

Willen is NOT GETTING ANY THINNER.

Also today is the LAST DAY in the Mannapro video contest. Our cousins at Minter Bay entered a video starring Farmer Wendy and you should go and see it if you haven't and vote thumbs up for it to help them win the prize.

My cousin Cora Belle is in it, HOGGING SPECIAL FOOD as her whole family is prone to do.

Thanks

Well it is Thanksgiving today and we are counting our blessings.

Our blessings are:

It isn't raining right now because it is saving up for the monsoon that is planned for this afternoon.

Precious Precious Pebbles did not freeze without her jacket because she was able to develop a thick layer of blubber from all the special treats she got.

Brandy is still alive even though she is an old bag and she even started bossing Wronny around again which everyone politely ignored because Wronny is the Boss of Everything and you shouldn't act like she is being bossed around even if you see it with your own eyes.

The hay did not run out yet.

The grain did not run out yet.

Jammies sleeps in the pile next to me and she is like a cast-iron potbelly stove.

Betsy's eye grew back.

That little mini-mancha daughter of Binky's finally went out of heat and stopped screaming.

The helpers came and put the roof back on the buck shed. (The farmer is too fat to go up there.)

I have three new sisters.

Tomorrow is another day.

Thanks.

Go Like the Wind

The Internet travels so fast that you think you know everything right away. But then it turns out you weren't paying attention and something you would like to have known zipped by while you were eating your alfalfa.

A few years ago the farmer went to a special screening in Seattle of the movie Seabiscuit. There were a lot of kids there and an emcee came out and he said before the movie started there was a special guest to introduce and would everyone mind sitting quietly for a moment and then one of the doors to the movie theater opened and a big bay horse walked in from the lobby, as serene as you please with a jockey on top, and matter-of-factly clopped down the long staircase from the back of the theater and went right up to the podium in front of the movie screen.

As calm as you please, not batting an eye when the auditorium erupted in applause despite the announcer's suggestion about sitting quietly.

The horse was Chinook Pass, the only Washington-bred Eclipse Award winner, and the one-time fastest horse in the world.

I suppose being the fastest horse in the world is not a bad trick, but there was something about this horse that was more interesting than that, something you wouldn't very much expect from the fastest horse in the world, and that was the way he radiated peace. Marty used to do that. And I have seen Jammies do it once or twice.

Perhaps it was because his best friend was a goat.

Anyway, we just found out that Chinook Pass died last year at the age of 31, and we were very sorry to hear it.

We send our condolences to Ellie.

Milk Time

Wendell isn't allowed to milk and you can see why in this video.

Adagio for Strings

Part 1. Goat Spring turns to Goat Winter.

Sometimes it seems very hard to get ahead in the world. You work and you work. And what happens. Nothing.

All summer I was eating blackberry bushes through the fence. Now the horses are in our summer pasture and the blackberries are just growing back. The horses are too high and mighty to eat blackberry bushes, all they will eat is apples and grass.

At first I was disgruntled about this but then I realized it is actually good. There will just be more blackberries when we go back in the front pasture.

We tried to put on a nice revolution and what happened. Nothing. The farmer fixed the fence and the Goat Spring is over. At first this seemed unfair but then I realized it keeps the milkers from hogging our meager supply of food. Sometimes the 'revolution' favors the fat. A fence can be better than a revolution.

I made a plan to become Top Milker some day and then I realized that I am not going to get any bigger and Wronny is about three times my size and I don't think anyone as small as me with no sisters has ever been Top Milker so it's probably impossible. But I did make some sisters, and maybe we can all pool our milk to become Top Milker together.

If not, we will just go around saying we are Top Milker, like Betsy does. Sometimes saying it makes it so. And after all, Top Milker is a state of mind.

Part 2. My brush with immortality, starring Abby.

A lady came over who was an artist and explained she wanted to do goat paintings.

The farmer did not know quite what to say so settled for "I see."

The lady suggested starting with a picture of a little goat and she pointed to me. "This one would be perfect."

"That's Millie," said the farmer.

"I could start with Millie," the lady said, then lapsed into a long story about herself and how she had become an artist because of her keen powers of observation and her sensitivity.

"I see," said the farmer.

The lady wanted to know if Millie (that's me) would be a good goat for a painting. She would take a picture first and then do the painting from the picture.

"Millie would be fine for that," said the farmer, mysteriously not mentioning Pebbles at all in spite of Pebbles' extreme talent for being photographed.

Then the lady explained to the farmer that she was going to observe me with her keen powers of observation before taking the picture so that she would be able to capture me perfectly. "Her inner essence."

"Okay," said the farmer. The lady studied me for several minutes with pursed eyes then she went to her car to get her camera and she came back and she spent quite a while using her keen powers of observation as she followed Abby around and then captured her perfectly on the camera.

"Thank you," said the lady as she was leaving. "And thank you, Millie!" she said, waving to Abby.

If you see a painting somewhere of a little goat that looks like it is from Oregon and it is simpering at the camera and the picture is called "Millie's Inner Essence" or something like that, I just wanted you to know that I do not simper and it isn't me.

Part 3. The Family Tree.

Some people came in late and they are confused about who I am.

I am Herron Hill's Million Belles, known as Baby Belle Jr. People call me Millie.

I am not the original Baby Belle. My grandmother Baby Belle was the original Baby Belle. Don't worry, we are doing an infographic about it.

Being Baby Belle is like being the Queen, or the Dalai Lama, or Punxsutawney Phil. You cannot choose it. It chooses you.

Ommm.

Everybody's Learning How

This is why I would never move to California.

Pebbles, Without Her Jacket

Send help!

Oh Well

The fence was fixed in the usual higgledy piggledy fashion and the rebellion quashed and the Goat Spring is over. I guess they were right, you can't fight City Hall.

Occupy the KP

Okay we started our own Occupy movement and right now we are occupying the middle pasture where the milkers and the upper 1% (BP et al) get grain and alfalfa. Unlike us, we only get grass hay and a smattering of grain and none of us have jackets or parkas not that we want them they look ridiculous.

But anyway we are occupying. That's mostly because the fence is broken and several other things broke after the fence broke and the other things are on a priority track while the fence is languishing in its broken state. Meaning that anyone who could jump over a caterpillar can jump over the fence.

Even Betsy got out and she is the most Nubian of all our remaining Nubian crosses. Right now she is occupying a little patch of land in front of the buck pen, walking back and forth and yelling out her demands in a very unambiguous manner.

We are putting together a list of other demands besides Betsy's and we will present them to someone if anyone ever shows up. If no one shows up we will present them to Wendell.

Let us know if you would like to join our  movement I have a feeling it will go viral. Or maybe I am just coming down with something. Anyway it is the only Occupy movement on the Key Peninsula so you will probably be hearing about it on the news. Or maybe not.

Power to the 99%!!!!