Haarroo ... uh ... err... cough ... ahemm ... Hello. So sorry. Peanut in the mouth. (You know how it is. One has to keep up one's strength.) Anyway, it has been awhile and that is because, *unfortunately*, the last round with the Challenger, was not nearly so kind to the Goatmother as before. Well, it is what it is, and we are on the upswing now. So remember? It's all good!
The other *unfortunate* problem is that my stupid muse, Caprinope, has decided to go on vacation. Again. This year I believe it is Uzbekistan. Are there goats in Uzbekistan? Of course there are. Goats are everywhere. Like UPS. And McDonald's.
Anyway, there was, recently another *unfortunate* occurrence. I mean I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone, (especially any *unfortunate* Alpines), but, really, I simply can't help myself. You see the Goatfather has dutifully been taking care of us for the Goatmother, and doing an admirable job I might add. Things have been going smashingly. Well, except for that one, small *unfortunatecy*. (Wait. Is that a word? Never mind. I say it is a word, so deal with it. Besides, this whole thing is beginning to sound a lot like Lemony Snickett anyway.) So what happened was that Ella was on the stand because Ella is a hog and the Goatfather had put something in the grain bucket. Since Ella was on the stand, the Goatfather saw it as an opportune time to check her hooves, reached over, and closed the latch on the headpiece. Now there is one thing you need to understand about Ella. Ella loves the Goatmother and will do just about anything the Goatmother asks (the Brown Nose). But this was decidedly NOT the Goatmother. It was the Goatfather. Therefore Ella took exception when the Goatfather tried to pick up her hoof and kicked a mighty Alpine kick. Normally this would only have elicited snickers from the, pardon me, Peanut gallery, but in this instance, when Ella kicked the mighty Alpine kick, she fell off the stand. Which really wouldn't have been that big a deal, except her head was still locked in.
So Ella gave the mighty Alpine kick, fell off the stand head still locked in, and managed to scare the bejeebers out of herself and surprise the holy hay out of the Goatfather in the process. Everyone else stopped in their tracks waiting for the pin to drop. Instead all hayl broke loose and Ella took off out of the barn, full steam, headed for the pasture with the poor unsuspecting stand flailing along beside her. At some point, the latch thankfully gave way, and the pas de deux came to an ungraceful end. The much relieved stand gasped its last breath as its mercurial partner sped away. If only we'd had the video camera. Then we could have filmed the fiasco and tacked onto the credits at the end, 'No obnoxious Alpine was harmed in the making of this film'. We could not, however, have made the same claim for the stand. The Goatfather spent a good deal of the rest of that morning in resuscitation efforts.
Let this be a lesson to all unsuspecting persons (and stands) to always let sleeping, eating, or for that matter, doing anything, Alpines lie. This public service announcement has been brought to you by the N.G.A.A A. (Normal Goats Against Alpine Attitude).
So this has been just a short note to let you know that we are still here, still going strong, and haven't run out of Peanuts.