No 'Rest' For the Wicked

Hi! My name is Peanut! You are probably wondering why I get to write in Auntie Marigold's blog. Well, I think it is because I'm related. I also think it is possibly because I don't like Peanuts.

Auntie Marigold is taking a small 'rest' today. You are probably wondering why Auntie Marigold needs a rest. Well, Auntie Marigold has been having a few problems lately regarding a couple of groups she is in. One is called the 'MBA' and the other is called the 'NBA'. The first one is to help her not to be so crabby with Watson. The second one is to help her not to be so crabby with me .

But Auntie Marigold is taking a 'rest' today to hopefully help 'analyze' her newest problem. In fact, she's out on her stump right now dissecting it all bit by bit. I think she is contemplating joining a new group called the 'BA'. Between you and me, I don't think she's doing very well. It all started, you see, some time back. Perhaps you remember one day when the goatmother was leaning over to do some chore and Auntie Marigold reached over and bit her? That was only the beginning. Since then, every time the Sacred Peanuts are not forthcoming, Auntie Marigold begins to have thoughts of a mordacious nature. Well, it seems that the day before yesterday, the neighbor came to visit. He actually came to see me, (I am kind of cute, if I do say so myself). After visiting with me and watching Watson start to faint due to the proximity of the standard poodle, the neighbor stood around in the big pen chatting with the goatmother and the goatfather. He was quite focused on the conversation. No Peanuts were forthcoming. Auntie Marigold lost control. This is why she is considering joining Biter's Anonymous. Pretty soon maybe she'll have a group for every day of the week. That should top some kind of record, don't you think?

So, yes, today Auntie Marigold is taking a 'rest'. I can tell you, there is a lot of soul-searching going on atop that stump. Even Ella is afraid to go near her. This situation doesn't bode at all well for me. My mother has spent a lot of time in the horse trailer, time-out jail cell because she is overly fond of defying attempts to keep her corraled. (You can read about one such recent incident here.) Now Auntie Marigold is biting? Maybe, just maybe, if I work really hard, I can make sure I follow in my father's footsteps. His side of the family seems a lot less 'intense'.

Be All That You Can Be

I've been thinking - always a dangerous prospect in some regards. Nevertheless, I've been thinking. We are quite the eclectic herd. I believe the goatmother subscribes to that motto, 'Give me your tired (Boo), your poor (myself), your hungry... (well, let's face it...this includes most everyone here.)'. Anyway, ethnic diversity reigns supreme on these shores! Wikipedia states, "An ethnic group is a group (of people ) who identify with one another, or are so identified by others, on the basis of a boundary that distinguishes them from other groups. This boundary may take any of a number of forms -- racial, cultural, linguistic, economic, religious, political -- and may be more or less porous. Because of this boundary, members of an ethnic group are often presumed to be culturally or biologically similar, although this is not in fact necessarily the case."

So, I thought, let us examine this idea in the context of our situation. First, I suppose we need to get rid of that ridiculous part that says it must be a group 'of people'. Jumpin' Jehosagoat! How egotistic is that?! Goats can be ethnic. I mean we have a Nubian, a mini-Nubian, an Alpine, a Nigerian and a, well, a 'Myotonian'! And, we all identify with each other just like the definition says. (Well, I don't really 'identify' with Ella, but that is beside the point.)

The definition goes on further to say that a group is identified by others on the basis of boundary. We certainly have that, and our boundary even has electric wire! We have different 'races' (Ella usually wins, but that is only because her legs are the longest), and 'cultures' (I like my Peanuts fed by hand. Ella doesn't care how she gets them, as long as she gets them. Boo likes them, but often can't remember if she already had them or not. Watson only likes animal cookies. Mr. Peanut is very partial to milk at the moment.).

As far as 'linguistics' go, now there we have the corner on diversity. I, myself, rarely speak unless it is worthwhile, and then it is just kind of a small and quiet 'nnnnn'. Ella is miss machine gun voice, doing rapid-fire repeats any time she sees or hears the goatmother. Watson has a true 'maaaaaa', and is usually pretty persistent about it, particularly when animal cookies are involved. Little Mr. Peanut sounds like a dragon fly in flight. And, last but in no way least, Boo has all the vocal timbre of a sick elk and twice the volume! So, yes, I believe we have the whole 'linguistics' angle in the bag.

Now the last part talks about 'economics' , 'religion' and 'politics'. We can fit into those categories too. Economically we are vastly rich if you count our huge store of Sacred Peanuts. Admittedly we are a little low in the 'alfalfa' category, but that is just because everyone is on a diet right now. It won't last. (I hope...). Religiously we all wait every morning, noon and night for our ration of Peanuts. And let me tell you, we are VERY religious about it! Politically, well, Boo, as I have mentioned, *thinks* she's Queen, but I didn't vote for her. In fact, if I'd had my druthers I would probably have voted for the Mighty Quinn since his allegiance lies only with frisbees, stinky things and anything that moves. No competition for the Peanuts. That kind of thinking will ALWAYS get my vote.

Now the last little bit of this definition says that members are thought to be biologically similar, but that this isn't necessarily the case. Of course that isn't necessarily the case! Duh!!! I can assure you that I am in no way biologically similar to Watson. We just don't even want to go there. Why I'm not even biologically similar to Boo since I could not, in my wildest dreams, EVER be that *large*. So you see, it 'ain't necessarily so', just like the definition says.

Still, with all the cultural pluralism that exists in our diverse and eclectic group, we are a shining example of integration at it's finest. After we manage to get all the 'politics' out of the way and figure out who is where in the pecking order, we seem to manage pretty well as a team. Everybody ends up with their own Peanuts or animal cookies, their own hay, their own grain (not nearly often enough) and even their own space. After all, it is the American way to bring together the many, in unity, to become the one. E Pluribus Unum!!!

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Okay. I'm busted. This morning the goatmother let my handsome nephew, Peanut, in with us just to see what we would do. I failed. I failed miserably. I can't help it. I saw that cute little flag of a tail bouncing around the lot and I became blind with desire. My head went down and before I even realized what I was doing, I became unwittingly engaged in an all-or-none game of 'butt the bouncing boy'! Thank goodness he is fast.

I guess I'm faced with going back and reviewing all the steps of the MBA. Except, of course, now it is going to have to be those of the NBA as well. No, I'm not going to take up basketball, unless I really slip up and start butting those little guys through hoops. Nah. I'm just not tall enough. No, this NBA stands for Nigerian Butters Anonymous. I'll have to be a member of both associations. Oy. Do I have this much time?

You know I think it is highly unfair that Ella keeps coming out on top in this racket. She really doesn't have that much self control. It's just that she is more interested in making Peanut-points with the goatmother than anything else. If her nose weren't black and white, it would be brown, I tell ya'! Miss hoity-toity, jump-on-the-stand-and-get-your-feet-trimmed-every-time-without-a-fight!!! Really! Those points are upper-most in her mind, even though we have been without adequate rations for some time now. I don't understand how she can even think about anything other than food.

But, there you have it. I have tried to turn over a new flake of hay, but alas, my efforts have been unfruitful. I can but blame my wanton behavior on starvation. For as my hero, Sherlock Holmes would say, "The faculties become refined when you starve them. Why, surely, as a doctor, my dear Watson, you must admit that what your digestion gains in the way of blood supply is so much lost to the brain. I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix. Therefore, it is the brain I must consider." ( From The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone).

Signed,
Marigold, the appendix

Seeing Spots

Introducing the illustrious Mr. Peanut. Yes, indeed, this is my nephew. I have to admit that when the goatmother and the goatfather brought him home, I thought I was seeing things...spots to be exact. I think he might actually be the first Dalmatian goat. He has that whole 'KISS' thing going on with his eyes too. Gee, maybe he can get his own TV show like Gene Simmons. Do you suppose?

At any rate, he is quite the little laid-back man, if you ask me. Why he has already challenged my man, Watson, with a couple of head butts! He doesn't have a very demonstrative voice, however. It kind of puts one in mind of the buzzing of a dragonfly. Still, I guess that can be a good thing. As far as Homegoat Security matters, they'll never know we're coming...especially if we have set up surveillance near the pond. Of course, just to be on the safe side, he might need to be extra cautious around large frogs and aquatic birds.

But, you know, I just have a feeling little Mr. Peanut is going to make things quite a bit more lively around here. Can a philosophical, sleuthing goat, such as myself, have two side-kicks? Why the hay not!? Welcome, little Mr. Peanut! Let the adventures begin!!!

The Great Acquisition

Oh, my goat! OH, MY GOAT! This is just *too* much! If I had panties, they'd be in a bunch! If a goat can have a cow, I just might!!! Great Good Goat God Pan! - We are getting ANOTHER goat!!! As if it weren't bad enough already, now I will be expected to share my hay and my Sacred Peanuts with yet another mouth? Oy. What is the world coming to. I think the goatmother must have had a lobotomy when she was in that hospital with the goatfather!

Still, as I hear it, the goat that is coming to join us is actually my nephew so he can't be all bad, can he? No doubt he will be quite refined in his demeanor. Although, he is the son of my half-sister, Hannah Belle Lecter, which doesn't, in itself, speak too well for him. Hannah Belle is a full Nigerian handful. But this little fellow's father is Captain January, who is quite the gentleman. I am sure he will have gotten those genes.

We are told his name is 'Peanut' and that he is the smallest baby ever born on the farm where I, myself, was born. He is said to be the poster child for The Miracle Network since he wasn't expected to live beyond his first night. So, as far as I'm concerned, Peanut has two pluses in his favor. 1) He is related to me. 2) His name is 'Peanut' and how can you go wrong with a name like that??? At any rate, if you would like to read more about Peanut, you can go to the site of my friend, Baby Belle, here, and read all about Peanut's difficult and humble beginnings. Just do a 'search' for his name and Belle will tell you all about it. Belle is quite eloquent and loquacious. One simply need be aware some bias may exist in her reports - something I never allow in my literary undertakings.

So there you have it. A crisis in the making if you look at it one way, but quite an opportunity if you look at it another. So, in the words of my old friend Parmenides, I say, " Welcome, O youth, that come to my abode on the car that bears you tended by immortal charioteers! It is no ill chance, but right and justice that has sent you to travel on this way."

A Short Absence

Most likely you have been wondering what in the world has happened to Marigold? She hasn't written for quite some time now. The fact of the matter is that I have been unable to get to the computer. Why, you ask? Well, it seems that after miserably failing some sort of running test called a 'treadmill', the goatfather was whisked away to take more tests. I can understand how anyone with only two legs might fail at running, but I am not sure why they would have to take tests about it.

Anyway, apparently the goatfather had two procedures done called 'angioplastys' and they put two of something called 'stents' in the blood vessels around his heart. I don't know what an 'angioplasty' is and I've been ruminating about this 'stent' thing. Isn't that an unbroken period of time during which you do something? I guess that could be right seeing as how I heard the goatmother talking about him having to lay flat for several hours without being able to raise his head or move his leg. I don't think I would like that, myself, unless, of course, there were Peanuts involved.

At any rate, we were all quite joyous to see the return of the goatmother. Nobody else is quite as skilled, not to mention as generous, in doling out Peanuts, animal cookies and hay as is the goatmother.

Fat Don't Fly

Last night was quite an interesting evening. First off, young Watson decided to go into the big pasture. I know. This doesn't sound very exciting does it? However, prior to last night, it was Watson's custom to stand in the lot, baaing loudly at the rest of us who had gone into the pasture to eat. I'm not sure what caused him to change his mind, but it was certainly cause for celebration. So, being the party-goats that we are, we did. Ella and I engaged in some 'hoofticuffs' while Boo stood around and, well, looked large. The goatmother ran out to proudly take pictures of Watson's first brave excursion into the 'big' goat world, all the while backing up and saying, 'Watson, DON'T come to the fence! I DO NOT have any animal cookies! Watson! THAT is an electric wire! Watson!


So, when the goatmother headed for the barn, we all naturally followed along in stair-step fashion, Watson bringing up the rear. There was a lot of twisting , kicking and butting that went on (in celebration, of course) all the way to the barn. When we got to the lot, Ella and I began to chase each other merrily about the lot. Ella ran and leaped gracefully atop the new little 'goatie shed' and proceeded to jump up and down just to hear the sound her hooves made when she landed. The goatmother walked up to the edge to speak to her, but still on the other side of the fence. At this point, Boo T-boned me from the side, which sent me reeling into the back of the goatmother's legs, who fell into the fence. Thank Goat! it wasn't the electric fence or we would have never heard the end of it! I don't know what possessed Boo. I think it was just the fact that the rest of us were having such a good time and she wasn't getting in on the fun. At any rate, the goatmother recovered and turned to chastise the perpetrator when IT happened.

I'm not at all sure what she was thinking, unless she was just so ecstatic over the fact that someone else besides her was finally getting into trouble. But, Ella decided to perform a pas jete from the top of the shed, taking a flying arabesque over the fence and gate into the lot. That was the plan. But miss Margoat Fontaine, forgot to take into consideration that her weight is not exactly what it was a mere few months ago. No, miss prima goatarina tripped over the top of the fence and went crashing to earth. Believe you me, there was stunned silence. You could have heard a Peanut drop. Ella got to her feet, but alas, she had injured her left leg. The goatmother ran over immediately, feeling to see if any bones were broken. Embarrassed, Ella was not very cooperative. Still, after inspection, no bones appeared to be broken, and Ella, being the trooper that she is, started to put a little weight on it. Finally she shook it off, though gingerly, I admit. However, before the goatmother left for the night, Ella was pretty much back to her old self, trying to butt me around. That's okay. Next time she tries reaching for my Peanuts, I'll just nudge her a little and remind her how it was she got into that predicament in the first place.