Now what is this? Well, it seems that ever since moving here, the goatmother has had some idea in her head of naming our farm. Today it became official. We are hereby all declared residents of 'Mariquita'.
What the hay does that mean? Well, amigo, herein lies a tale. You see, 'Mariquita' means ladybug in Spanish. The first year the goatmother and goatfather moved here, they noticed the remains of ladybugs smashed in door jams, in window sills, and littering various edges of the carpet. Nothing much was thought of it. Probably just a few that wandered in when the other people moved out and all the doors were open. Until autumn arrived. Once it started to get cold, living ladybugs were seen here and there in the house. How were they getting in? Hmmm...must be some small space around the door jambs. The spaces were duly 'stuffed'. No more ladybugs until... Spring arrived. Suddenly ladybugs were everywhere in the house. Every bug-sized nook and cranny was examined but it could never be determined how the ladybugs were getting into the house. In the meantime, the goatmother was dutifully picking up fifty at a time and gently placing them outdoors in a straw bed until the weather warmed up enough for them to fly away and begin doing bug things. It is known that ladybugs hibernate, and so it was decided that they were probably doing so under the boards of the house. Still, the mystery as to how they were actually getting inside the house has never been conclusively solved, although it is thought it might have something to do with the weep holes around the windows.
Nonetheless, the goatmother concluded that the house was 'blessed' and duly proceeded to name our farm after the cute little red and black critters that call it home. This is how we came to have what you see above on our barn. Now, if you will look at the picture below, you will see that the letters and 'bugs' seem to be just a bit too high to be aesthetically pleasing. That would be the fault of Ella. Naturally. You see Ella, being the long-legged, obsessively curious Alpine, tends to want to examine and destroy anything which enters her 'Ah! new-thing-to-mess-with' radar. Knowing this, and being a wise person by nature, the goatmother and goatfather took a bunch of hay, tied it to a string and ran it inside the barn. While one of them held the empty end inside the barn, the other looked to see just how far up the barn Ella could actually reach. It worked pretty darned well, eventhough Ella stole the pencil out of the goatmother's pocket and ate it. Still, despite the lack of a proper marking instrument, the height of the letters was thusly determined. So you see, as are most things, the 'too high' lettering is the fault of Ella. No surprise there.
As for what I think of this whole idea in the first place... Naturally I would have preferred it to say 'Homegoat Security'. Oh, well. As Wayne Dyer said, "If I could define enlightenment briefly, I would say it is the quiet acceptance of what is." And, everyone knows just how enlightened a goat I am.