It's Fall. Finally. The Woolly Boogers were right. We've already had our first storm of the season, complete with 37 mph winds. The yard rather looks like a war zone with tree limbs down and leaves everywhere. The trees look as though someone beat them, which indeed someone did. The goatmother's lovely pots of flowers on the deck were thrown off and most of the plants damaged. The only good thing is that we goats have gotten lots and lots of limbs full of succulent leaves to munch on.
As though the storm weren't a good enough indicator, it has also been very cool at night. Last night it was actually down to 40 degrees. Oh, well, I'm not complaining, mind you. I mean, I don't mind the cold, but someone does. In fact, that is the source of Wednesday's Words of Wisdom. Allow me to tell you a tale.
It was Sunday night. The trash had to be gathered on Sunday because the trash truck comes on Monday morning. Makes sense, right? I was watching from the barn as the goatmother, having dutifully gathered the trash, brought out the bags. Being conscientious goatpeople, the goatmother and the goatfather recycle, and so part of the drill is to sort the recyclables into bins. The goatmother set about placing the glass here, and the mixed paper there, and the cans and plastics there.
No problemo, until the goatmother felt something on her leg. Something that hurt. She glanced down and there on her leg was one of those little ground-dwelling Yellow Jackets. OW,WOW,WOW, WOW, WOW! The goatmother had on a pair of stretchy pants, so she grabbed the violated pant leg and pulled it out away from her skin. At which time, the Yellow Jacket, body looped into war position, continued his ugly 'bidness', pumping venom into the pant leg for all he was worth. The goatmother screeched, swatted the little blighter, and ran for the house. There it was again. The goatmother running. Who knew it was possible? But oh, so entertaining!
Anyway, the goatmother ran into the house, spouting epithets as she moved. The goatfather was in the bathroom. You know, how some people are never around? Most of them say things like, "Oh, I must've slept through that." With the goatfather, it's always, "Oh, I was in the bathroom." Anyway, I digress. The goatmother ran around the kitchen mumbling, grumbling, slamming cabinets, looking for the baking soda with which to make a paste 'cuz that's what she'd always done - make a baking soda paste to draw out the poison. She grabbed the box, poured some into a Dixie cup and proceeded to add a little water. The goatfather emerged from the bathroom asking what happened just as the goatmother dropped her drawers, sat down and started to put the paste on the wound. All of a sudden something zipped by her. Then it zipped by again. Oh. My. Goat! "He's followed me into the house!!!!", she cried and jumped up from the stool. "Run to the bathroom!", yelled the goatfather. "I can't!!!!", cried the goatmother. "He's in my pants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Let me just say here that no one has ever shucked a pair of pants so fast. I think it must be an Olympic record. The goatmother made it to the bathroom and the goatfather dispatched the tenacious little beast. In the end, the goatmother ended up with only one major sting on her upper thigh and two small ones on the inside. It could have been much worse.
So, see, not everyone is down with the coming of Fall, and Wednesday's Words of Wisdom are this: Always, ALWAYS wear stretchy pants in the Fall. It just may save your bacon. On the other hand, should you decide to drop them, for whatever reason, by all means make sure you are alone!