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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

I was raised in a canebrake by an old mama lion

Do you know I built myself a goat feeder?  With help from John and the children, of course.  It has a hinged lid and can fit an entire bale at a time, and there is wire mesh on the bottom to keep the small yummy bits from falling onto the ground, while still allowing water to escape.  Because of the children it was an all-day endeavor instead of a two-hour project, but we had a good time and there are plenty of staples holding the wire to the bottom. I hope it was empowering for them.  It's crude and unpretty, but I did design it in my head in the aisles of Home Depot while hissing at my children about the prodigious fines they were incurring by climbing the stacks of lumber, and the feeder works exactly as intended.

Pay no attention to the mess behind the feeder.  

For all these years the goats have been picking through the hay to get to the best bits, which knocks the stems and a bunch of the leaves onto the ground, creating incredible waste and mess.  This is not as big of a problem when you are growing your own hay and you don't get through all of it in a year anyway, and it continues to pile up and pile up and make a giant, moldy fire hazard in your field.  But when you're growing wheat instead of alfalfa and you're buying your hay at four dollars a bale and going through three-plus bales a week it begins to chafe. People saying to me "I thought goats would eat anything!" stopped being funny about five and a half years ago.  Goats are the pickiest dang creatures on this earth, I swear.

But they make wonderful cheese.  We have eaten two of my wheels of Camembert, and although they were not amazing, they were fairly enjoyable, especially near the rind where they are getting all runny.  I think I might dare try Gouda again.

A couple of weeks ago the bucklings were starting to be very humpy, and they were old enough that they could potentially not be shooting blanks, so it was time to crimp them.  Imagine how terrible it would be if they got Sophie pregnant!  Things like that reaffirm to me that for all the talk about how intelligent animals are, they've still got a ways to go before they deserve to be at the top of the food chain.  I can think of some people who deserve to be bumped down a few notches, come to think of it.  Would that be a crime deterrent, to have your position at the apex of the food web be contingent upon your continued good behavior?  I think we should try that when we're working out the new societal rules after the revolution. 

Are you excited for the Olympics?  I wonder about the opening ceremonies.  Will they be boring?  London lacks the population density and objectification of human beings of Beijing, so we probably won't see a spectacle like the box people jumping up and down.  I hope there's pomp.  I hear whisperings that Salt Lake is going to try for another Olympic bid, and I'm like "saints preserve us."  I like the Olympics.  LIKE.  It doesn't mean I want all those people crowding me.  Stay where you are, tourists!  Salt Lake is nerdy!

By the way, I wore that dorky copper bracelet yesterday, just for fun because it looks nice on my arm and only cost three dollars, and today my hips are killing me.  Coincidence?  I wonder.  

3 comments:

All8 said...

Go for the Gouda. You can do it. Good job on the feeder.

beckster said...

I love copper jewelry, too. Maybe your hip pain was related more to activity? Not as much fun, I know, as saying it was related to a bracelet your wore. I hate to say it, but I am totally indifferent about the Olympics. The more the TV yells at me about something, the more my interest falls. Oppositional defiant disorder?

Layne said...

Beckster. You must allow yourself to believe in the mystical power of copper bracelets from the hardware store.