Sunday, June 7, 2009
Friends of our Lovely Community:
I am sure you are all aware of the resurgence and interest in growing, raising our own food. Of recent interest is the "rearing" of GOATS. Good meat, I guess, my father's last words to me, before he died, I was telling him that my Dear Husband had procured a herd of GOATS; I wasn't sure Daddy could hear or understand me, but the the last thing he said to me was, in a faint whisper, "Oh Cabrito!".
Okay, I went along this goat thing my Dear Husband desired, but made it plain "I don't do GOATS".
Then, of course, we had to have a DONKEY to protect the GOATS. My Dear Husband found a Donkey, very unattractive, and was delivered to our our lovely home. Now, this Donkey only speaks Spanish, so we fondly named him DONKEY-HO-TEE.
That didn't work out too well because the Stallion out with the mares resented the fact that the Donkey was still "in tact" and disrupting his 'bisness' with the mares.
Okay. My Dear Husband decides we need a DAWG; an Anatolian Dawg, in fact; so we acquired an Anatolian DAWG. We call her Annie Tollie. She's doing a pretty fair job, save the one GOAT she had to take to task over his aggressiveness.
So far, I think I'm doin' okay. But for SOME REASON, my Dear Husband saw fit to send me pictures and a video of GOATS IN TREES....(NO KIDDING, pun intended).
Now, where I come from, and growing up in a church-goin' family, ANYTHING with horns and a tail and hooves, sittin' up in a tree looking at me is nothing but the Absolute Devil, Satan!!!
When I inquired of My Dear Husband, "Uh, I'm a little uncomfortable with this GOATS in the tree thing, he replied, "Don't worry about it, those GOATS are from Morocco.
Those GOATS could speak Greek, Vietnamese, or Yiddish!! I don't care. If they can sit up in a tree and stare at me, I'm breakin' out the Holy Water!
I won't sleep too well.