Acey, Deucy...

As you may recall, this has been an unusually terrible winter. When it isn't snowing, it has been raining, all of which adds up to a LOT of time spent in the barn. Recently we have had a couple of 'nice' days and we all thought, 'Ah, Spring has sprung'. Then yesterday it rained ... again ... a lot.

Naturally we are all getting just a bit tired of this scenario since all there is to do is eat, lay down, eat, and dream of succulent green grass. This being the case, I, with my superior intellect, sought some method of relieving the monotony. So is it my fault that when the goatmother came out to the barn last night, she found the water bucket on the floor,the stanchion out in the middle of the barn (instead of up against the wall), and a colossamongous hole dug in the floor?

Yesterday, as we stood about listening to the ever-persistent raindrops falling on the roof, I suggested we try something different for a change. After all, the goatdaughter and goatson-in-law are coming to visit this summer and they live in Vegas. Why not help them feel right at home by brushing up on a little Blackjack? What an excellent idea and what an excellent choice! Boo can't count past 21 anyway and well, we could play for Peanuts. It was perfect.

And so it began... The trimming/milking stand was pushed out into the center of the barn so everyone could gather round. I was dealer and banker (you don't think I'm going to let anyone else have control of the Peanuts do you?). Ella took up First Base (naturally, since she ALWAYS has to be first) and on around until it ended with Watson in the Anchor position. I dealt. Boo looked at her cards and folded right away. (She was actually dealt 20, but turns out she can really only count up to 12.) Peanut said 'hit me', and Ella did, misunderstanding that this only meant he needed another card. Finally, Watson went Bust and it came down to a Stand-Off between Ella and myself. Now I don't like to brag, but when it comes to gambling, well, guess who possesses the more exceptional skill? Ella, the ever-over-confidant, did a Double Down with her Peanuts. I met her double and called. She turned her cards to reveal 19 points. I turned mine to reveal a perfect 21. The Peanuts were ALL MINE!!! All I can say to describe what happened next is that Ella went berserk. She started butting everything and everyone in sight, all the while going on about how I had cheated. Really! The nerve. She hit the water bucket and sent water flying all over the barn and anyone unfortunate enough to be standing near. Boo just stood there, because who in their right mind would even consider going up against the Hoover dam? But, then Ella went after Watson. Now Watson can't jump up on anything like the rest of us, which is how the hole got there. Imagine a stiff-legged goat trying to get away and the only route of escape seems to be getting under the barn.

The goatmother will never really know how the barn came to be in the state she found it in. Perhaps ignorance is bliss in this case. As for we goats, well, maybe we'll have to investigate a different avenue of making the Vegas goatdaugher and goatson-in-law feel right at home. Gambling just doesn't seem to be worth the trouble. "Remember this: The house doesn't beat the player. It just gives him the opportunity to beat himself," - Nicholas (Nick the Greek) Dandalos. ...to beat himself and everything else around him in the process! Oy.