Thursday, June 27, 2013

so if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real

So, what have I been doing, apart from welcoming wet, sticky baby goats into the world?  So much.  The summer kind of so much, that feels like a lot, but is actually not very much and in fact makes you feel quite slothful when you look back and try to figure out why your house is so dirty.

We have watched about eleventy billion movies, now that Grant has joined the ranks of teenager and we have approved him for a little higher octane in his media.  We have been playing the music from Pirates of the Caribbean, Grant on the trumpet and me on the piano, and now that I can play duets of a sort, having children is totally paying off.  When Emmett starts the drums we are going to rule.  We are going to make the Partridge family look like a bunch of amateurs!  Like thumb-sucking babies!  We had a successful family reunion with John's side of the family and got our children well established in a pattern of staying up late and sleeping in, which I'm sure we won't regret at all.  I took the kids to a water park and got a speeding ticket on the way.  John and I went to Jersey Boys, and although it doesn't engage you emotionally the way something like Les Mis does, the music is great and I came home and reminded my children that for "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" alone Frankie Valli deserves our respect.  They love that song, but have been resistant to the rest of the Valli/Four Seasons catalog.  We went to dinner at Bambara and ate some bone marrow, which was a little too much for me in this stage of educating my palate.  I ate it, but didn't really enjoy it.  John tasted it and his body said NO.

And I am an inventor now!  I probably already invented some other stuff, but I have forgotten what it is.  But if you were religiously following my tweets you saw that I have invented a new clothes:

Here's how it came to be:  I have been looking for fabric with which to make some cute knit skirts, but evidently the jersey knit market is entirely controlled by the Inner Party, because I can't find anything.  So I was thinking, maybe I'll take some of the shirts I don't wear anymore and cut them apart and use that fabric.  I pulled the shirt up around my waist to see if the fabric would work, tied the sleeves to get them out of the way, and then I was like, "Well, I guess I'm done!"  I was calling it the skirt-that's-a-shirt, but my brother-in-law David called it a shkirt, and I think that's so much more simple and elegant, much like the item it describes.  I wore the purple one to church on Sunday, and got so many compliments.  Do it, you guys.  So empowering.  

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

detective or sneak?

We are done kidding for the year, and I am feeling much happier than I was at the beginning.  Hazel is, like, the best goat of all time.  Triplets, two of which were breech, and the worst possible configuration of such?  NAILED IT.  To sum up quickly, she had one buck, labored for another hour, then had a doe, a big clump of placenta, and then another doe.

Here's the long version of the story, which is more for my records than for entertainment:  Willa came yelling into the house yesterday afternoon "Hazel's having her babies!  I saw a thing coming out of her bum!"  So out I ran, and saw that we were going to have trouble because there was a big old baby butt (plus scrotum, nice) hanging in the breeze.  I sat down next to Hazel and gently eased the baby out while she pushed, and miraculously it wasn't too bad.  I didn't even have to do an episiotomy (joking, I don't even know if you can/should do that to a goat).  I was mad it was a boy, though.  Then Hazel acted like she wanted to have another baby for a while with no progress.  Our neighbor--the one we bought Hazel from--came over and went spelunking but couldn't feel anything.  We sat and chit-chatted for a while, then Kathy checked again, and tried to go further down the canal, and found the hips of the next baby.  I got all anxious, because it was a miracle the last breech birth went as well as it did, and we couldn't turn the one inside without professional help.  So I called the vet and we got the truck all backed up to the pen so Hazel wouldn't  have to walk very far, and I went into the pen to get her, and there was a slimy new baby girl on the straw.  So that was a relief.  We waited some more, then just when it seemed like all she had left in her was placenta, ploop, here came a baby head out the birth canal.  Kathy had come back by then to see how things were going, and she hunkered down and pulled the doeling right out before you could even say boo.  She is a roan, which makes me very happy.  It was an exciting delivery, and I was all covered with mucus and blood and other effluent.  I think my shirt and shorts might be ruined.  I'm so thankful that there were no complications--Hazel could easily have had her uterus sliced open by the babies' hooves and died.  It seems that she likes having triplets.

Here is how they look:

 Minerva (panting) and Templette (nuffing the ground) 

Mr. Gibbs in the foreground, with Roger in the background. 

Roger has to go to the vet today to get his eye operated on--his eyelid keeps folding under and irritating his eye, and he'll go blind if we don't fix it.  Even though we're selling him it seems cruel to just leave it the way it is.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

too much

Feeling super gross, and I'm not saying it is because I ate a bunch of sushi and Chinese and Thai food at 10:00 last night, but I sure don't want anybody to say "Mars roll" to me anytime soon.  I will watch lots of movies now.

Monday, June 17, 2013

who told you to put a balm on?

I'm pretty annoyed about the whole NSA surveillance thingy, and am surprised by the number of people who are relaxed and cool with it, like, "I'm pretty boring and have nothing to hide; why should I care?"  I can't figure out if they're being serious--there was a pro/con surveillance opinion piece in the newspaper yesterday in which the pro-surveillance person (a Republican, because you know how they're such fans of limited government) made an argument so inane and childishly worded that I can't be entirely certain it wasn't actually a point/counterpoint lifted straight from The Onion.  Among other things he was saying that people volunteer information about themselves online all the time, so why does this bother them, and I'm just like, "DUDE.  Because they chose to volunteer that information."  Does he really not see the difference between the two scenarios?  Does he really not have a problem with the government spying on us without permission?  And lying about it until faced with evidence that they were?  I thought there was a huge vein of "BUT THE CONSTITUTION!  THE FOUNDING FATHERS!" running through the Republican party--does he not see the hypocrisy in his position?  Maybe he's just really good at compartmentalization.

I have seen Cedar City now, and it is a fine place.  Too hot and windy for me to live there, but they have a superb shaved ice stand that has earned my undying loyalty.  Shaved ice is one area in which I happily welcome and embrace all the artificial colors and flavors they care to throw at me.  Tiger's Blood with shelf-stable ultra-pasteurized cream poured on top?  Bring it on.  Pineapple/Orange/Strawberry with a sweet white substance that has not been identified stirred in?  Likewise.  The guys upgraded us to mediums for free because we told them we were shaved ice connoisseurs who had sought them out after hearing reports of their good ice--all true.  Also while were were in Cedar City we visited Cedar Breaks National Monument, and that is a gorgeous eyeful.  I was a mostly non-embarrassing soccer parent at Grant's games, and I can sometimes detect an offside situation now, so there's that.  No goat babies came while we were gone, for which I am grateful.  Roger, Sally's baby, is thriving and has started jumping around like a little deer.

I have a problem with poltergeists stealing my lip balm.  I have lost three tubes in the past month.  Maybe it's the NSA!  Maybe they're collecting my DNA to make an army of mes!  Joke's on them, I am weak and lazy.

Monday, June 10, 2013

it all just sounds like oooooooooo

We're leaving for Cedar City in a few days, and I've been hoping that Hazel and Sally would be cool to me and kid just a tiny bit early so I won't spend the entire time worrying about all the starving dead goat kids waiting for me at home--not that there would be any.  Goats are very good at taking care of things on their own (unlike some I could mention, SHEEP), but I like to be there all the same, especially since Sally was such a poopypants last year about letting her babies nurse.  Well, here is what I found today:

Yay! Sort of.  Sally had kidded a beautiful baby, but wouldn't you just guess, it's a buck.  Those gorgeous looks, from that fantastic breeding, wasted on something we can't even keep.  It's like the heartbreak of Tex all over again.  Look at his blaze!  And that splash on the side!  This is a disappointment.  I have my fingers crossed for Hazel.  The genes aren't quite as ritzy, but we could definitely work up with a doe from Hazel--just look how beautiful her daughter Sally is.  

I just remembered--I meant to talk about how much I hate nightgowns.  Why would somebody want to wear one?  Do they derive comfort from a doughnut of fabric wadded around their midsection?  Nightgowns are ridiculous and there seems to be no reason to wear one unless you're a person who enjoys pretending to live in a time before women were allowed to wear pants.  Even so--bloomers have existed for a long time, couldn't they have just worn bloomers to bed?  I wash my hands of it.  

I went to an Amish bulk foods store this afternoon, and one of the brands they carry leans pretty heavily on artificial colors and flavors, which I wouldn't think the Amish would have a lot of access to, and it doesn't seem to me that jam and pickles need artificial colors and flavors, but what do I know?  

Sunday, June 9, 2013

maybe I'll name a buck snidely whiplash

Couple of thoughts:

Willa might be my first child to like Playmobil toys.  I've tried so hard, but all my kids have denied me the opportunity of buying myself Playmobil under the pretense of buying it for them.  Jerks.  But the other day after we spent over an hour doing birthday recon in the artsy fartsy toy store in Logan I asked Willa what her three favorite things in the store were, and one of the things she showed me was a Playmobil set with a pegasus pulling a carriage.  So now the door is open, and I was looking for a couple of people to augment the pegasus carriage, and one of the sets in the same line as the carriage is of what they call a princess and a fairy, and they are both wearing dresses, but for some reason the fairy character looks like it has stubble of a handlebar mustache.  Curious!  

I think it would be nice if we as a culture developed a custom of giving breakup presents at the end of relationships.  Nothing extravagant; just a little something nice to end things on a good note.  Like a gift certificate for a Frosty or something, you know?

I ate so much sushi tonight that I came dangerously close to vomiting.

We watched the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie the other day, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I think that the first time I watched it it was too hard to understand.  How sad that a Disney pirate movie was over my head.  I guess I'm getting dementia.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

I can't speak for the boss, but my heart is stuffed to the rafters

Upon closer inspection and observation, I believe that Groceries and Rex were involved in the deaths of the chicks, whether maliciously or opportunistically.  But there is a heat lamp in there and wire covering all points of ingress/egress now, so hopefully Penguin and Brad will be here for the long haul.

After a number of years since first reading about them, my craving for radish sandwiches became undeniable today, so I went to Logan to buy the best bread I have access to, the best butter in the store, and some radishes.  It was worth it--they are delicious.

Also, if your complexion has been mysteriously clear lately, it is because there was evidently some event or ceremony in which I inadvertently agreed to take on the blemishes of the entire world.  It's been a real party, let me tell you.

I have three walnut-sized tomatoes on my Dr. Neal tomato plant.  I am going to MOP THE FLOOR with my mom and brother-in-law this year.  It's my year!

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

r.i.p. yam hill

Oopsie all of the baby chickens but two are dead.  The fun part is not knowing whether it was cold, skunk, or other chickens that did them in.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

oops I accidentally fell into eternal jail

Am writing a real post but for now you must watch all of these it is important to me and you: