Channeling Your Inner Goat

The weather has been rather warm of late and I have had a lot of time to stand about in the shade philosophizing. So it seems, during one of my more fruitful deliberations, I began contemplating The Inner Goat. Naturally, I am sure you are quite skeptical that anyone, let alone everyone, might actually possess something remotely resembling an Inner Goat. You might simply surmise that I am deluded and spouting some sort of New Age gibberish. However, I can assure you that is not the case.

Now that we have that out of the way, let us first examine what The Inner Goat actually is. Have you ever been lying about on a summer day, lazily gazing up at the clouds, and become vaguely aware of that still, small voice within? You know, the one that whispers, 'Hey! Bum cheeks asleep here! Shift those boys around, for goats' sake!!?' Or you're standing about grazing one beautiful evening, look up to see a coyote trotting your way, and that same voice, not nearly so small or still, jumps up yelling, 'Marigold! You can stay here and philosophize all you want, but I'm gettin' the hay outta' here!!!' Well, now, these would be examples of your Inner Goat at work.

Some might refer to the Inner Goat as mere 'in-tuition', but honestly, I can't say as I've ever had to pay it anything. Although I suppose you could count paying attention. That seems to be a necessity since, if you don't, you are certainly going to hear about it again on some level. At any rate, you understand that the Inner Goat can be likened to that 'gut' feeling that people get and often ignore. I said people often ignore. Goats never ignore 'gut feelings'. Believe me, when you have four stomachs, that's just the way it is.

So how does one learn to access the Inner Goat? Meditation. That is the key. Your mind is a blank slate save for the ever-present image of a lone, exquisite Peanut. Soon the Inner Goat begins to surface and you are free to channel it's wisdom. The Universe is yours. The Peanuts are yours!

Okay, so it pays to channel your Inner Goat. Be aware, be guided by and attend to that annoying little voice. Own it. Name it. (How about Edna? Frank???) Chew your cud in contemplation and take note when that voice speaks to you. It might just prove to be worthwhile.

Post Script: If the voice tells you to do bad stuff, ignore it. You are no longer channeling your Inner Goat, but have somehow managed to tap into the Twilight Zone. It means you have used the key of imagination rather than the key of meditation, and you are about to enter into another dimension, a dimension of sight, of sound ... Oh, for Edna's sake! Just tell it to pipe down.

The Rambling Revenant

As you may remember, last October my friend, The Little UnDead, went on a pilgrimage to Forks to visit various sights featured in the book, Twilight, about a teenage girl, Bella Swan, who falls in love with a vampire, Edward Cullen. In case you have forgotten, you can refresh your memory here. Anyway, ever since then, The Diminutive Deceased One has been whining about going on another vacation. Goatness knows nobody here has been interested in catering to his whims, so recently our good friend, Lisa, over at Pink Porches, girded her loins and invited The Short and UnImportant for a visit to Maine. Maine, you ask? Really? Isn't that clear across the United States? Well, yes, it is, but you have to understand that this destination held a particular interest for the Little UnAnimated One.

Now, look at the picture below. What is this, you ask? Well, my friends, this is none other than the Bangor, Maine residence of the renowned author, Stephen King. Yes, that would be the Stephen King, a long-time idol of The Dinky and Dull. Naturally you are probably having a bit of difficulty locating his tiny green presence in this picture, but he is over to the right on the gate.


Can you see him now??? Pathetic isn't it?

Anyway, Lisa, being the kind hostess she is, next catered to The Paltry Peasant's flights of fancy by taking him to the Mount Hope Cemetery. What the hay is that, you ask? Well, The Mount Hope Cemetery was the site of filming for the 1989 movie, Pet Sematary, based on the Stephen King novel by the same name.

Honestly, the Mount Hope Cemetery is on the National Register of Historic Places, not because Pet Sematary was filmed there, but because it is the second oldest garden cemetery in America. As The Petite Punk flew over, he was awed by the serene beauty he encountered. I'm awed he managed to make the flight without taking a nose dive.

You will be glad to know that he did not encounter any recently reanimated zombie-like children, unless, of course, you count the one below. Even though this child constantly kept inviting him over the threshold, try as he might, he could never manage to get in - or even get her to strike up a casual conversation. I suppose reanimation isn't all it's cracked up to be. No doubt one stands to lose a few brain cells in the process. At any rate, The Little Cadaverous Clout decided against going on up through the forest to the ancient Indian burial ground. No use taking chances I always say, even if one is already life-challenged.

Next, The Little InSignificant Expired went on to view the grave of gangster, Al Brady. He wasn't in a talking mood either, so The Tiny and Torpid moved on to the Mausoleum. The doors were locked, however, and try as he might, no one would invite him across the threshold this time. Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed - or, ahem, coffin.

So after the consummate failures at the cemetery, Lisa felt sorry for The Small and Stagnant and took him to see the giant statue of Paul Bunyan featured in the Stephen King novel, 'It'. See him down there at Paul's feet?

Here. This ought to give you a little better sense of Paul's size. He is 31 feet high and weighs 3,700 pounds! Wow. That has to be about as much as Boo. I think The Shrimpy and Stiff was a bit staggered by the sheer size of this mammoth, not to mention just a little apprehensive that if he sat there very long Paul might again become possessed and attack him. Sheesh. The things some people worry about. It's not like he could ram you from behind like Ella.

In the end, though, The Little UnderSized and UnResponsive found the perfect place to take a rest after such an exciting day of adventure. Who knew he'd have to go all the way to Maine to find it?

We would like to extend our most heartfelt thanks to Lisa for being brave enough and kind enough to take The Little Verdant Vampire off our hands for awhile. Believe me it was as much a vacation for us as it was for him. Besides, you know what they say, " Kindness is like snow - it beautifies everything it covers." So, Lisa, this makes you a VERY beautiful person in our eyes!

The 7 Wonders of the World

Everyone knows about the 7 Wonders of the World. These are, in fact, a representation of the most spectacular things in the world. Apparently there have been several lists of these spectacular things made over the ages, the first based on guide books that were popular with Hellenic sight-seers. Now who would have thought that anybody back then would've had the time to run around looking at things, let alone putting together sight-seeing brochures. Weren't they all waaay too busy plundering, pillaging, and conquering?

Well, anyway, I guess the Greeks came up with the number 7 because it was supposedly the number of 'perfection and plenty'. Come to think of it, I guess 7 Peanuts isn't really a bad number, so maybe they were on to something. At any rate, they didn't really call them 'wonders' back then either. Their word was apparently, thaumata, which supposedly means something more like 'things to be seen'. Now that makes more sense to me. Take a break in between conquerings to go about and see a few things. Heaven knows you wouldn't have time while the conquering was going on - far too busy looking over your shoulder I should think.

So with that little bit of background, I humbly present to you the 7 Wonders of the World - at least as far as I could figure them out. But, hey!, what do I know? I'm just a goat, and not even a Greek goat at that.

Now, first, we have the revered Great Peanut Pyramid of Geezers. Many old men took an inordinate amount of time to create this magnificent wonder. Time well spent on a worthwhile project, if you ask me. Keeps them off the streets too.

The Hanging GardenHose of BigLots. Need I point out to you the importance of this wonder?
Statue of NoUse in the Olympics. Not useful, but looks nice, I suppose - even though that is my stump he is using for a pedestal. Oy. The wonder here is that I haven't yet butted him the hay off it!

Temple of Absorption at Ignoramus. Evident here is the wonder that this sign ever made it onto the Temple. Witness the tell-tale backwards 'N's. Oy. Sometimes it takes a village. Sometimes it only takes one.

The Mousoleum of MouseSolos at HaveASnackOnUs. I am wondering if he's found any Peanuts in there.

Lighthouse of Alexander. I don't know who Alexander is, but this is his lighthouse. And, if it's a lighthouse I wonder why the light isn't on? Perhaps Alexander is one bulb shy.

And last, but certainly not least by any sense of the word, a wonder that requires no explanation - none other than:

The Colossus of Blyn.

True Confessions 3

My name is Marigold and I am a Biteaholic. You may remember back in 2007 I became a member of the MBA (Myotonic Butters Anonymous), at which time I embarked on a 12-step program designed to enable me to overcome my addiction to butting . (In case you have forgotten, you can refresh your sad little memory here. ) Anyway, through diligent effort on my part, I managed to gain control over that aspect of my character only to have it resurface in a new and inventive form. Oy.

So, without further ado, I hereby enter into, and put forth, yet another 12-step program as follows:

1. I admit I am quite powerless over my addiction, and my life has become unmanageable. (At least according to some. Actually I kind of enjoy the feeling of power. What's unmanageable about that, I ask you?)

2. I have come to believe that a Peanu...err...power, POWER greater than myself could restore me to sanity. (Well, I suppose it could, but I'm not entirely convinced it is all that likely.)

3. I have made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of the goatmother as I understand her. (Of course no one really understands the goatmother. Come to think of it, maybe No. 3 isn't all that wise a decision after all.)

4. I have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself. (Okay, how does one inventory one's self? One. I count one. One Marigold. Better to inventory the Peanuts.)

5. I admit to the goatmother, to myself, and to the world at large, the exact nature of my wrongs. (Although, come to think of it, how many 'wrongs' do I really have? I mean biting isn't all that objectionable in the grand scheme of things, and really I'm right more often than I'm wrong. Everybody knows that.)

6. I am entirely ready to have the goatmother remove all my defects of character. (Now hold on just a goat-gone minute here! Dr. Freud the goatmother ain't, and I'm not entirely sure I want her dancing around in my head removing anything.)

7. I humbly ask the Great Goat God, Pan, to remove my shortcomings. (Okay. That's better than the goatmother, but really, I am quite short enough as it is. Ella could stand to lose a few inches though).

8. I made a list of all goats I have harmed, and have become willing to make amends to them all. (Okay. I'm willing to let Watson and Peanut have every third Peanut and part of the hay, but that's really pushing the envelope. Really it is.)

9. I have made direct amends to such goats wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. (Now, look. I already said they could have every third Peanut and part of the hay. Come to think of it, every third Peanut doesn't really leave me an adequate supply so I believe I need to change that to every fourth Peanut. Besides, cutting a few calories ought to be good for them. I'm an altruist if nothing else.)

10. I continue to take personal inventory and when I am wrong, promptly admit it. ( Okay. I'm wrong. I think every fifth Peanut is better. Yes, every fifth.)

11. I seek, through prayer and meditation, to improve my conscious contact with The Great Peanut God In The Sky as I understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for me and the power to carry that out. (First of all, everyone knows how much time I spend meditating. How else could I come up with all this wisdom? Plus, I think His will for me is maybe to have the boys get only every sixth Peanut. I've been praying about this. Yes, every sixth Peanut. I'm sure.)

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, I am trying to carry this message to other addicts and to practice these principles in all my affairs. (Yes. Spiritually I am quite awake now, and I've been trying to convince anyone who will listen that every sixth Peanut for the boys is The Way to spiritual fulfillment. Plus, I've been trying to convert Ella because Heaven knows she needs it more than anyone. Come to think of it, if Ella is involved, maybe we better make that every seventh Peanut for the boys. Quite right - every seventh Peanut it is.)

So you see, my friends, I am a changed goat. "How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve themselves." - Anne Frank.

True Confessions 2

Yesterday was Boo's birthday. Okay, I bit Watson in her honor. Besides she is too old and corpulent to do it herself. Hey! Works for me.

True Confession

Okay. I admit it. Tonight, I bit Watson. I know. Shameful isn't it? However, in my defense, he was on our side of the barn, and he was standing there right below me while I was up on my beloved wooden spool. What else could I do? Temptation is a strong catalyst. Like Mark Twain, "I deal with temptation by yielding to it."

Sunrise, Sunset ...

... quickly flow the days.

Happy Birthday my ornery little nephew. Your grandmother would be proud!

Just as an aside ... we have had rain everyday since May 16th. I am thinking seriously of building an ark. I wonder just how many Peanuts an ark can hold?