I Am Wisely Cheerful ... and LATE!

You are probably wondering about my title.  Well, I missed Wednesday.  Whoosh!  It just passed right on by.  And then it was Thursday, and I really was cheerful.  I just forgot to tell you about it.  Okay, maybe I didn't really forget, but sheesh!, it's the holidays and there are just so many Peanuts to eat.  I suppose I got a little carried away.  Anyway, I figured I better get back on track.  After all, the New Year is upon us and I don't want to start it out on a bad hoof.

So then, what the hay is that picture of down below?  Well, that, my friends, is (or maybe I should say 'was' ...  let us all bow our heads ...) the lid to the cookie jar.  

So what happened to it?  And before you start accusing me, let it be known that no goat has top teeth in the front (unless they are mutants) and are incapable of wreaking such destruction.  Now just take a good long look at that.  A perfect circle of air all the way around except for a few lingering shards of plastic.  That fact is why the Goatfather's fingers can fit between the top and the rim.  Who could do this?  Ah, 'tis a mystery to be sure.  Enter Marigold Holmes and her ever faithful assistant, Watson for one last case to ponder before 2011 comes to an end.

I have to say that even though we were all in the barn at the time the dastardly crime occurred, the munching was so loud no one heard a thing.  I'm sure you are saying to yourself, 'That is simply ridiculous, Marigold.  Look at that destruction.  Someone had to have heard something.'  But I assure you, if you had ever spent even one night in a barn with Boo, you would understand.  Really you would.

The Goatmother came out the next morning to find what you see above.  Now the 'live' trap has been set ever since the last 'visitor' took the taxi, but no one has bothered it.  The Goatmother did note, however, that the trap had been tripped on this particular morning.  Watson and I have been hard at work trying to determine just who the culprit might be.  As long as that door gets closed at night, though, this one might just have to be relegated to the realm of the cold case.

The cookie jar has since gone to live inside the 'inner sanctum', the grain room.  All access to it is lined with either wood or hardware cloth.  I would be seriously worried if anyone managed to make it inside there.  Come to think of it, I'd be seriously interested in exactly how they did it too.  I mean you never know when one might find that kind of information useful, eh?

So there you have it.  The 'live' trap has remained untouched despite the fact that the Goatmother grabbed a literal handful of Peanuts and shoved them in there. (What a waste.  Oy.)  We may never know who was responsible, but that leads me to my late words of wisdom.  Never, Never, NEVER trust that your cookies are mature enough to be left alone.  A sitter is always preferable.  A goat is a good choice.  Trust me.

And where is the 'cheerful' in all of this?  Well, first of all I'm exceedingly cheerful that the mystery miscreant did not, in fact, make it to the actual cookies.  Secondly, I am even more cheerful that it wasn't the Peanut jar that was so savagely attacked.  And third, well, I am cheerful that a New Year is about to begin.  New beginnings, new adventures, new Peanuts!  Happy 2012 to each and every one of you.  Thank you for stopping by to read the humble words of  a reflective ruminant. 

I'm Cheerful! I'm Cheerful!

Well, everyone seems to be very busy this week, but I thought I'd be cheerful anyway.  What can I say?  I'm just that kind of a goat.

Naturally, I'm cheerful because it is almost Christmas.  I'm being as good as I can, but you know how hard that is for someone so innately ebullient.

Anyway, here goes.

Reason No. 1 to be cheerful:

After all the boring weather we have had, there was finally at least some frost to make it feel like Christmas!

Reason No. 2 to be cheeful:

A swan family that came for Christmas!

Reason No. 3 to be cheerful:

The Peace and Joy of nature.

And the last reason to be cheerful:

I think I hear sleigh bells!  Merry Christmas and may you receive many, many Peanuts in your stocking!

Wednesday Words of Wisdom - Wigilia!

Weird looking word, huh?  Well, that, my friends, is Polish, to be exact.  You see, when the Goatmother was a little girl, her father's family got together every Christmas eve to celebrate Wigilia (Pronounced  Veh - LEE - uh ).  It is a custom common to many Poles, though there are apparently differences in exactly how it is celebrated.  But this post will be about how the Goatmother remembers it  (and we should be thankful she can remember anything, if you ask me.)

Now the Goatmother's paternal family came from the region of Poland which lies against the Carpathian Mountains.  Though the Carpathians feature strongly in some Vampire stories, the Goatmother's family contains no Vampires.  At least we don't think so ( The Little UnDead does not count, and please do not encourage him).  Anyway, back to Wigilia.  As previously mentioned, everyone gathered on Christmas eve.  Things began with a passing of the oplatek, which in this case, was in the form of 'host' wafers. ( The 'host', being the little flat kind passed out for communion at the old Catholic masses.)  Everyone went about the room giving a small bite to a family member, followed by a big hug and a kiss.  Oh, and you had to say 'Peace be with you'.  This hugging and kissing was good in some cases and a bit overwhelming in others.  Plus, can you imagine the difficulty in making one itsy tiny host last through twenty-three or twenty-four people?  I can only surmise there were no Ellas in the Goatmother's family.

Nonetheless, when all the PDA's were over, it was time for the meal.  There were twelve dishes, to begin with,  to symbolize the twelve apostles.  Each dish began on a bed of hay (always provided by the Goatmother's family because they were the only ones with livestock) to symbolize the baby Jesus lying in the manger.  This part was pretty nice, but there was a catch, especially if you happened to be a kid.  For you see, no spices or condiments of any kind were allowed for these twelve dishes, and one 'had' to take at least a bite of each dish passed.

The Goatmother can't remember every dish, but she remembers quite well having to choke down unseasoned boiled barley and peas.  Really it doesn't sound too bad to me, but then I guess I'm a purist at heart.  Heck the hay would have been delicious, if you ask me.  I suppose that's why no goats were ever invited.  There would have been nothing left for anyone else.  Anyway, the Goatmother remembers the boiled barley, peas, unseasoned pierogis with plain boiled cabbage inside, ones with prunes, and pierogis with dabs of cottage cheese (vegetable, fruit, dairy). The other stuff is pretty much a blur, but then we have to be thankful we got that much out of her.

After a taste of the twelve was over, the good stuff came out. The stuff with seasoning. There were always onions fried in butter and always cooked by 'Uncle Louie'.  There was borscht made by Grandma, which oddly enough was made with mushrooms and not cabbage.  There was Kapusta, a cabbage dish made with cabbage, sauerkraut and peas, and best of all, there were surprise pierogis filled with mystery ingredients like balloons!  And of course there were desserts - fruitcakes, cookies, and Rum balls!  Grandma always made 'Hrust', which were pastry rectangles, slit and turned inside out, then deep fried and dipped in powdered sugar.  Unfortunately the celebration was devoid of any Peanut dishes.  I know, because I asked.  What?  You knew I would.

And lest we forget, there was always a big bowl of punch dutifully spiked by 'Uncle Mike', who ironically always ended up crying and hugging everyone.  No one ever quite understood why 'Uncle Mike' cried, but it may have had something to do with the fact that there were no Vampires in the family.  Although, come to think of it, he could have been wrong and that was the reason onions were always fried and there was no garlic.  After all isn't tradition and myth always based somewhere in fact?  Actually, after further consideration, it may go a long way in explaining just exactly why the Goatmother is NOT a morning person.  Hmmm ...

After all the kissing, hugging, eating and crying was over, everyone proceeded to midnight Mass.  The Goatmother says it was always really hard to stay awake, but it was worth it to see the altar all decked out with lighted trees and an almost life-sized nativity.  Plus the choir was always on key.  For once.

Anyhow, that was years and years ago.  I wouldn't want to say exactly how many years because I do need to consider just who gives out the Peanuts.  The unfortunate part is that after Grandpa passed away, the family seemed to scatter.  No one got together for Wigilia anymore because everyone was living somewhere else. Today the Goatmother is a bit more 'eclectic' in her beliefs, but each Christmas she remembers, and sometimes she still makes borscht the way Grandma did.

And that, my friends, leads us to this Wednesday's Christmas Words of Wisdom:  Value your traditions.  They may not always be with you.  Besides, now I'm going to have to share my Peanuts.  Oy.

Be sure to tune in tomorrow.  I'm sure I can manage to dredge up something to be cheerful about.

A Yule Jewel

I can't take credit for this, but I sure wish I could.  No, my friend Snowcatcher, here, sent me the link.  It is priceless and quite possibly the very BEST Christmas story I have ever read.  Check it out, here, and I bet you will agree!  Happy Yule!

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Guess what?  I'm cheerful again this week!  Who knew?  Really, I have the Christmas spirit.  Which is more than I can say for some Alpines I know.  The good news is, however, and a really good reason to be cheerful,  is that the Christmas decoration still exists!!!!  The Grinch has not been able to reach it, and, shhhh ... , I think she may have actually given up trying.  More Christmas miracles.

Okay, so here is Reason 1 to be cheerful this week:

Someone no longer smells like a dog and came back with new teal and black striped ear feathers.  As you can see it was exhausting work.

Reason No. 2:

The Goatmother finished her Christmas shopping and got all the packages mailed.  The mini-me is ready for Christmas and so am I!

Reason 3 to be cheerful:

The jolly old elf will be here soon with a sack full of Peanuts slung on his back!  Just 10 days left to be good.  I hope I can manage.

Okay, now, don't forget to go over to Planet Penny, here, and check out what other people are cheerful about this week.  Trust me, it will do your heart good.

Wendesday Words of Wisdom

Wow.  That sure was a short week. Too many Christmas Peanuts to wrap.  Anyway, here it is Wednesday again.  So, I've been thinking a lot this week.  By nature I'm prone to that sort of thing.  I can tell you this, however.  It is not the Nubian half that is so inclined.

Now then, I am an original.  Since 2005, when I was born, I have gone my own way, been my own goat.  I'm simply not one of those, pardon, *sheep* prone to follow the crowd.   I am one-of-a-kind, and like Buffy, there can be only one.   Because of this, I find it not at all surprising that there are some who attempt to copy me.  Take Ella, for instance.  Lately I've noticed her trying to stand on my stump.  Naturally she doesn't fit nearly as well as do I, and it certainly hasn't done anything for her intellect.  I guess it is nice to share, though, and she does get it all warmed up for me.  After all, it's cold out there!

Then there's Peanut.  I've seen Peanut attempting my lightening fast, insert-your-mouth-in-front-of-anyone-else's-oncoming-Peanut move.  He tries, but of course he fails.  For it is only, I, Marigold, esteemed inventor of the move, who is able to accomplish it so adeptly.  I have that certain Je ne s'ais qua when it comes to speed.  Well, Peanut is no slouch in the speed department, but he's just too young and too small to have developed my finesse - my sheer skill.  What can I say?  It's a gift and a curse.

Of course there is little to worry about with Boo.  I mean she spends most of her time looking around doing things like wondering why the water bucket is leaking up into the sky and then coming down on her head.  Or perhaps she spends the entire day trying to figure out why that sticky-out thing is following her everywhere she goes (her tail).  Or she might become totally engrossed with trying to figure out what happened to her feet.  Clearly Boo has little time for imitation when there are so many other, more important, matters to consider.

And, then there is Watson.   When Watson wanders about the premises muttering 'Oy' over every dismaying occurrence, I can but smile.  'Ella butted me.  Oy'.  'I fainted.  Oy'  'Marigold tried to throw me to the Bob-O-Lynx.  Oy.'  Why smile?  Because, my friends, (and this would be Wednesday's Words of Wisdom) imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.  So imitate away.  The Peanut or the shell.  Which came first?  The astute know.

"When with a serious musing I behold
The graceful and obsequious Marigold,
How duly every morning she displays
Her open breast, when Titan spreads his rays."
        George Wither—The Marigold.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Well, goat gracious!  Here it is Thursday again and time to link up to Planet Penny (here) for my Reasons To Be Cheerful this week.

So without further adieu:
Reason No. 1 -

 

This is the goofy goatdaughter (in Pocahontas pose).  We are ever so cheerful this week because the goatdaughter managed to find a new job and will no longer be stuck in the horrible one she has been working in!  Way to go goatdaughter!  We knew you could do it!!! 

Reason No. 2 -

Admittedly, we had to go back to summer for this one.  But let's face it, it is worth celebrating and makes one quite cheerful to look at it.  This is the Western Tanager we had in the Cherry tree this year.  Isn't he lovely?  It's the first time we've ever seen one.  Believe me, it was a whole lot more cheerful than looking at Ella.

Reason No. 3 -

The Goatmother's lighted Christmas house display!

Now, then, I do have one more Reason To Be Cheerful this week, and it is, in my estimation, the most important one.  Our beauteous barn decoration is still hanging!  Wonder of Christmas wonders!  And, it isn't even missing any more greenery!  Of course, someone's nose is a bit out of joint.  Oh well, she'll just have to pull up her big girl panties and deal.  "He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree." - Roy L. Smith.   Or under a Christmas decoration in a barn, for that matter.  Oy.   
Now, make it your b'idness and get ye on over to Planet Penny to see what others are cheerful about this week!

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

Today, my thought is to present you with a treatise on a well-known word in the English language. You may think you know this word very well.  After all, isn't it one of the more common words?  However, my friends, there are nuances of meaning here you may not be aware of.

So the word, Marigold.  For goats' sake, what is the word?

Oh, well, of course.  The word.  The word for Wednesday, my friends, is 'business'.  Yes, that's it.  Just plain old 'business'.  Now, I'm sure you think you already know everything there is to know about this word, but do you really?   First of all, at this time of year there is a lot of  'that's just none of your business' being bandied about.  This usage of the word probably denotes what one normally considers the true meaning.  'Business', that word that says 'this is my knowledge', 'my circumstance'.  It is for me to know and for you to find out.  But what about that part that means, 'this is what I do'?  Like, 'my business is selling Peanuts to good farmers everywhere'. (A highly respected business, too, if you ask me.)

Then there is the shortened version.  You know, 'busy'.  The Goatmother is 'busy' passing out Peanuts.  I'm 'busy' eating hay. The streets are 'busy' at this time of year.

But here is some knowledge you may not have previously been privy to,  for you see, in some places this word takes on unexpected nuances.  Like, say, in Texas, for example.  You have your everyday 'business', but you also have 'b'idness'.
"Mind  your own b'idness, and get out of my b'idness."
Suddenly the meaning has taken the less traversed path and morphed into something far more formidable - something far more personal in nature.  And believe me, wherever 'b'idness' resides, you better tread lightly because you sure wouldn't want to step on anyone's.

Then, of course, one is likely to also stumble upon 'b'idness's' natural counterpart, 'b'idzy'.
"Excuse me, could you ....?"
"B'idzy."
"Oh, sorry.  I didn't realize ... ."
"B'idzy."
"Oh.  Of course ..."
This does not imply that one is merely 'busy', but carries with it an air of total absorption.  One is absolutely NOT to be bothered.  Please go away.  Now.

So, there you have it.  I bet you never even suspected, did you?  So, then, I guess I'll be getting on about this Wednesday's usual b'idness of munching Peanuts.  If you need me, don't bother.  Believe me, it is wise not to.  B'idzy!

The Grinch ...

... that tried to steal Christmas.  How can a 3 foot high goat reach a 7 foot Christmas decoration?  Flat footed, with nothing to stand on.  It is exactly 7 feet from the floor of the barn to the bottom end of our cherished Christmas decoration.  Yet, magically, it is now missing its bottommost greenery.  Out came the ladder and the Goatmother moved it just a little bit higher.  Despite the fact that it is somewhat cropped now, and the bow is a little askew, it still looks pretty good.  Christmas spirit has been preserved.  For the moment.  The Grinch is still eyeballing it.  Oy.

"Those Whos are hard to frazzle, Max. But, we did our worst, and that's all that matters." - The Grinch

Reasons To Be Cheerful

It's Thursday and goatboy!, am I ever cheerful this week!  Why?  Well, I have a clean barn, of course!  Even the Goatmother is cheerful about it.  Mostly because it is done, but that is beside the point.  Anyway, be sure to get yourself over to Planet Penny, here, so you can see why other people are cheerful this week.  You might even want to join in.  Who knows?

I do, however, have a few other reasons to be cheerful this week.
Reason No. 1 -

 

Help cleaning the barn.
Reason No. 2 -

This reason is most amazing!  In all my time here, we have never had a Christmas decoration.  Well, we did have one the very first year, but it didn't last.  There is a reason for that.  One simple word.  Ella.  Being a long-legged Alpine, Ella feels it is her bounden duty to inspect and remove any object she deems inspectable, and she has the reach to go with it.  I guess our first, and until now, only decoration was a little too inspectable and just a little too reachable.  Which leads me to ...

... Reason No. 3 -

This has NOT yet noticed the new decoration.  Let us hope it remains that way for the sake of all our Christmas cheer.

* Our thanks to Faith, whose cheerfulness about Christmas made the Goatmother feel guilty about we goats not having any Christmas cheer which, in turn,  resulted in our lovely decoration.  Thank you, Faith!  (Or should we say "Diolch yn fawr iawn"?)
You can check out Faith's blog here.  Happy week!

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

There may, or there may not, be any Wednesday Words of Wisdom today.  The reason is the Goatmother is going to clean the barn today.    I might be so tired, after watching her do all that work, I may not have the energy left to think of anything wise to say - let alone type it.

"If God gives you a watch, are you honoring Him more by asking Him what time it is or by simply consulting the watch? - A.W. Tozer

If you need me, I'll be spending the day honoring the Goatmother.

'Tis the Season

Thanksgiving is over and you know what that means - Christmas!  So, to start things off right, just in case you haven't already seen it, be sure to check out the Goat Carol of the Bells, here, over at Biology of the Goat.  I have to say they have the Nubians down pat, popping up and too stupid to realize they have snow on their heads.  And, of course the Alpines are right in the center.  Figures.  Oy.  The only thing missing is the Peanuts.  Where, oh where are the Peanuts????

*Addendum - Be sure to note that something new has been added this year and the Fainting goat (which is over on the left side toward the top - the spotty one with horns) actually faints at the end.  You see his feet stick up after his body goes down.   Keep watching.  I had to watch it twice before I caught it.   Oy.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Hallooo!  Guess what?  It is Thursday and that means Reasons To Be Cheerful day!  It also happens to be Thanksgiving here, so that is a reason to be doubly cheerful, don't you think?  Anyway, be sure to go over to Planet Penny, here, and check out why others are cheerful this week.

Marigold's Reasons To Be Cheerful:

The neighbor-wiener! (Look, Higgins!  A paramour!)

Living in a place of such beauty!

I am very thankful the stick people do NOT like me. (We will not even discuss the mud.)

And last, but certainly not least, I am just SO thankful and happy that I am faster than Boo!
Happy Thanksgiving!  May your week be an ever so cheerful one!

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

My goodness!  Here it is Wednesday.  Again.  How does that keep happening?  Oh, well.  Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so I've been thinking about what I have to be thankful about.  Really there is quite a lot, I think.  It has been raining non-stop here, and last night, during yet another downpour, I was thinking how thankful I am that we have a nice warm barn with plenty of hay.  So many animals don't have anyone to love them.  I'm really a very lucky goat.

Of course, all the while I was thinking about this, Ella was pushing everyone around to get the best bits of hay for herself.  I can't really say I'm thankful for Ella.  On the other hand, when she gets into one of her picky snits, where she turns up her nose at the Peanuts, I have to say that I might have to reconsider.  For you see, when Ella gets into one of her picky snits, it makes the Goatmother mad, and the end result is that I get more.  You will not find me sticking my nose up at any Peanut, and the Goatmother really seems to appreciate my enthusiasm.  So I guess I'd have to say I am also very thankful for Ella's picky snits.

Now then, I am also quite thankful for Watson.  He has to be one of the very best crime collaborators a goat could ask for.  He is always willing to help in any way he can.  Besides, he isn't picky, and he isn't greedy like some Alpines I know.  I do wish, however, he could learn to master that annoying fainting thing.  Oh, well, everyone has their cross to bear, I suppose.  Myself, I am quite thankful I don't faint.

Ultimately, though,  the thing I am the very most thankful for is, well, Peanuts.  What?  You thought I was going to say the Goatmother?  Oy.  No.  It is the humble Peanut.  The Peanut, who grows in darkness with one thought only - to some day become the object of utmost adoration.  (Excluding, of course, from those subject to the picky snit.)  To be cherished and savored with gustatory delight.  To be honored above all other forms of ingestibles.  Who gives its life selflessly for the greater good of goatdom.  To ...

Marigold!  Stop.  Everyone knows you like Peanuts.  Get on with the Wednesday Words of Wisdom already.  Sheesh.

Well, goat grief.  I was coming to that.  Wednesday's Words of Wisdom?  They are this:  Be thankful for the small things in life, (That means be grateful for the one-to-a-shellers as well as the three-to-a-shellers.  Heck.  Be grateful for the shells!) because if you don't, you may just miss the best part. Happy Thanksgiving!  May you have no one suffering from the picky snit at your table this year.  Please pass the Peanuts.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

It is Thursday, and that means time to link to Planet Penny with our Reasons To Be Cheerful for this week!  Be sure to pop on over to Planet Penny (here) to see the worlds cutest felt mice, the ever-handsome Higgins, and see what others who have linked to her site are cheerful about this week!!! 

Reason to be cheerful No. 1 -

The lovely Trumpeter Swans have returned for the winter.  (Or is it Tundra Swans?  I can never remember.)
Reason To be cheerful No. 2 -

 

The first snow of the season.

Reason to be cheerful No. 3 -

 

Yet another of the most beautiful sunsets!


Reason to be cheerful No. 4 - (Oooo.  Four reasons this week!)

 

Frou frou farm dogs whose fantastic groomers put purple feather extensions in their hair.    Can you see them on either ear?  How about now?

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

Well, since we haven't had any new critters show up since the bat, it's been kind of dull around here.  Unless, I guess, you count the small winter wren that has been flitting about cleaning up all the summer spiders.  So here it is Wednesday and nothing new to report really.  In light of that, the Goatmother thought I ought to post a recipe.  Naturally, I wanted one with Peanuts, but she said that no one would be interested in a recipe with Peanuts.  Imagine that.  Nah, the Goatmother has to be wrong about that.  At any rate, here's what we came up with.

This recipe is for Macaroni and Cheese, but it isn't just any old Mac 'N' Cheese.  Nope.  This one has some kick to it.  Just the right kind of thing to wake one up from any kind of slump they've been harboring.  The Goatmother and the Goatfather took two recipes and came up with their own version.  So without further adieu:


Marigold's Mac 'N' Cheese 
(Okay.  It is my blog.  I had to get in the act somewhere.)


8 oz. Cavatappi, Macaroni or other tube-shaped pasta.( The Cavatappi looks cool, in my opinion.  Kind of  like adding little pig tails.  I'm just sayin' ....)
1/2 tsp. coarse salt, plus more for cooking the pasta (Yum.  If you are cooking for your goats, they will probably just eat the pasta without salt.  Probably without even cooking.)
8 oz. of assorted mushrooms, sliced and sauteed in 1 or 2 Tbsp. olive oil (Mushrooms.  Oy.  I ate one once and it was not a good thing.  Still the Goatmother and the Goatfather seem to like them.  Maybe I had one of those psycho-relic ones.)
3 1/2 Tbsp. butter (Look out, Paula Dean!)
1/2 C. finely chopped shallots
2 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 1/4 C. dry white wine (Do try to put at least some of it in the mac 'n' cheese.  Wine.  It's not just for breakfast.  I wonder if there is a Peanut-flavored wine out there?)
2/3 C. heavy whipping cream  (If you do not like the sound of your arteries hardening, turn up the CD player.)
7 oz. Gruyere, grated  (It isn't goat cheese, but it's pretty good nonetheless)
3 oz. aged Gouda, grated (I'm not sure where this one comes from.  I've never seen a Gouda, have you?)
2 Tbsp. minced fresh Chives (or Alfalfa if you prefer.  Just kidding.)
1 Chipotle in Adobo sauce, chopped (~ 1 Tbsp. with Chipotle and sauce) (Oyle, y'all!  This is what really makes this different!) 
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard (This is mustard that has received a 'Di' Jon' letter and is obviously very sad, but still tastes good.)
1/8 tsp. freshly ground Nutmeg (Please do note that though this says it is a nut, it sure doesn't taste like a nut.  I'm just sayin' ... )
1/2 C. bread crumbs or Panko  (Do not let those stupid ducks near this or you won't have any for the recipe.)

Directions:
1.  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Cook the pasta according to package directions in a large pot of boiling, salted water until tender to the bite.  (Hopefully it won't bite back.)  This will take approximately 7 to 12 minutes (So you will have time to hand a few Peanuts to any nearby goats.)  Drain the pasta, but don't rinse. (This sounds kind of unhygienic to me, but it makes stuff stick to the pasta better,.  It must be like dirt and soap if you don't rinse off after you bathe.)

2.  In a large frying pan, over medium-high heat, melt 2 Tbsp. of butter (or you can use Olive oil if you are being health-conscious.  Me, I'd use Peanut oil.)  Add the shallots and mushrooms and cook until the shallots are light golden in color and the mushrooms are soft.  Sprinkle the shallot-mushroom mixture with flour, and cook, stirring often, around 1 minute.  Add wine and stir, picking up any browned  bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the cream and stir well.  Sprinkle in the cheeses, one large handful at a time, stirring until each handful is mostly melted before adding the next.  Stir in 2 Tbsp. chives, the Chipotle in Adobo, mustard, 1/4 tsp. salt (Okay.  this salt is optional, just in case you are not a saltaholic), and nutmeg.  Stir cooked pasta into cheese mixture, then pour all into a 2 qt. baking dish. (You can grease the baking dish before hand, or spray it with a little cooking spray, unless, of course, you like to do dishes and are breathlessly waiting for the moment it is all gone and you can scrub to your heart's content.)

3.  Sprinkle bread crumbs or Panko over the casserole, dry, ( if you are boycotting calories), or sprinkle and dot with the remaining 1 1/2 Tbsp. of butter.  (I can hear Paula cheering now!).  Bake until the top is browned and the cheese is bubbling.  This will be approximately 15 to 20 minutes.  (Oh.  Now you really have time to hand out some  Peanuts).

By now you are probably asking yourself, 'Marigold, what in the hay happened to the Words of Wisdom?  Well, my friends, I have not forgotten.  Wednesday's Words of Wisdom are this:  If you don't have anything to say, talk about food.  Everyone pays attention to food.  Hay!  It's food for thought, huh?

The Invasion of the Booty Snatchers

Oy.  What is going on here?  First it was the Bob-o-Lynx and I had to watch my body as well as my Peanuts.  Then it was the rodent population in the barn, and those Peanuts had to be put under lock and key. Then it was the deer and the  big ole' b'ar.   So I've got those Peanuts hidden, I can tell you.  By now you are probably wondering what the hay I'm babbling about.  I can only tell you there is no babbling involved.  Not even a little.  All of sudden, for reasons beknownst only to those trespassers having appeared, we are absolutely overrun with strange critters.  It can only be an invasion and they can only be after my Peanuts.

Anyway, this morning the Goatmother bopped out to the barn.  Wait a minute.  I forgot.  It was morning and the Goatmother is morally opposed to bopping at that hour.  Nonetheless, she came out to the barn, opened the outer door and peered in at the live trap to see if the Goatfather had any new cab fares.  The trap was empty and even unsprung.  Will wonders never cease?  So the Goatmother walked across the barn to the door of the Holy Grail of Goatdom, the grain room.  Guess what?  When she opened the door something plopped onto the floor. In retrospect,  I have to say at least it didn't hit her on the head this time.  If you want to read about that debacle, you can go here.  So what was it?

It was a little brown bat.  Now you may not know that bats can not take off from the ground, and if you went back and read about the time the bat fell on the Goatmother's head, you might also have read that, at that time, the Goatmother and the Goatfather tried to launch the little fellow.  Since they knew better this time, the Goatmother got the bat onto the launch pad ...

... but had the Goatfather take him straight away to the top shelf in the old chicken coop.  I don't think he woke up the whole trip.  Well, perhaps he was knocked out.  Who can tell with a bat?  At any rate, when it gets dark, he'll wake up and be able to take off by dropping from the shelf.  No doubt going on about his batly business - which, I sincerely hope, does NOT involve my Peanuts.

Anyway, I'm just wondering.  Do bats like Peanuts?  The other thing I'm wondering is why, with all the lovely nooks and crannies in the barn, do these guys pick the door to the grain room to roost?  Surely anyone with any sense knows that the Goatmother, being the single-minded sort, rarely looks up when she is on a mission.  I suppose we'll just have to chalk it up to bat stupidity.

With all these strange critter appearances, though, it makes me wonder if it is some sort of omen.  Does this mean we are going to have a lot of snow this year so everybody is stocking up?   I mean, already flurries are predicted for the end of next week, and already there have been significant accumulations at higher elevations.  Oy.  I better ask the Goatmother to go to Costco and stock up on Peanuts.  Why not follow the crowd.  Just this once. 

It's a B'ar!

The Goatmother and the Goatfather got home when  it was rather darkish.  That, of course, is because of the time change, which is always an adjustment, to say the least.  Anyway, as they rounded the corner, the headlights of the car caught something.  It was large and black and fuzzy, and it dashed across the road in front of them and off into the woods.  'What was that?!', they both cried at once.  Well, there are apple trees in front of the house.  Usually the deer are out there scarfing up the fallen apples, but this was decidedly no deer.  We goats were on alert when the Goatmother got down to the barn.  It is a bit of a distance to the apple trees, and while my eyesight it quite good, it was rather dark.  The Goatmother and the Goatfather both think it was a bear.  Me, I'm not so sure.  After all, Sasquatches probably like apples just as well as anyone.  Whatever.  I'm asking that the Peanuts be put under lock and key.  Just in case.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

By golly, here it is Thursday and that means it is Reasons To Be Cheerful day!  Now don't forget to go over to Planet Penny and see what she and others have found to be cheerful about this week.

As for me, there's a lot to be cheerful about this week.  1) -  The Heron lit in the tree and then went on his merry way, not stopping to look for pretty, shiny goldfish the Goatmother put  in our pond.

2) - The Goatmother's weird plant bloomed.

 

And, saving the best for last.  3) - Looking across the barnyard at the Goatmother's red-neck Hovercraft.

 

 Oy.

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

Well, guess what?  Remember the last post when the Goatmother caught our little furry friend?  You know, that one that kept leaving the 'perfectly positioned pile of poops'?  That very evening, the Goatmother breezed through our nightly bed 'turn down' and 'Peanut on the pillow' with a reckless feeling of abandon.  No longer would she arrive in the morning, throw open the barn door and be greeted by said, now infamous, 'perfectly positioned pile of poops'.  Alas, some dreams do come true.  Right?

Fast forward.  Now, don't blame me.  Some of you actually asked for this picture.

Yes, the Goatmother bounced out of bed the next morning.  Well, wait a minute.  The Goatmother never bounces out of bed.  Okay, so the next morning the Goatmother dragged her sorry a .... bum out of bed, eventually came to the barn, threw open the barn door, and VOILA!  This is what she saw.  Obviously the wrong miscreant had been apprehended and falsely accused.  Oy.

Guess what else reappeared?

Can you see some of my peanuts in there?  Anyway, good things come to those who wait. The following morning, the 'perfectly positioned pile of poops' was again perfectly positioned in front of the door.   Sadly, however, the trap had been sprung, and no evidence could be found of the true perpetrating positioner of poops. The trap was reset because that's how the Goatmother is - p.e.r.s.i.s.t.e.n.t.

Guess what?  (I know.  I say that a lot, but how else can I build the suspense, I ask you?)
The next morning the Goatmother hit pay dirt  - or pay Peanuts!  Oh, heck.  She caught the stupid rat!

So, Wednesday's Words of Wisdom are this:  No matter what the situation, if there is one, always assume there is more.  That's really good advice - especially if there are Peanuts involved.  And you know what else?  Always reset the trap.

A Really Good Cause

Hallooo!  Just wanted to take a moment to tell you all about a lovely young lady.  If you go here, to Planet Penny, you can read all about it.  Basically, though, Hannah is a 27 year old, beautiful young lady who was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  She needs more help than she can get in the UK and her boyfriend has started a campaign to raise the funds needed to send Hannah to the USA where she can get the treatment she so desperately needs.  Anyway, if you can help, it is a worthy cause.  And if you are unable, then maybe you can spread the word. Many thanks and a bundle of Peanuts to Hannah.

The Case of the Perfectly Positioned Poop

Such a very long time since my cracker-jack, sleuthing self, Marigold Holmes, and my ever-faithful, not-so-steady-on-his feet-but-capable assistant, Watson, have had a mystery to solve.  It started like this.  The Goatmother would trod out to the barn every morning to perform her usual round of maid-service, and to distribute corn to those stupid ducks in the pond.  And, every morning when she opened the barn door, there would be a perfectly positioned pile of little poops right in front of the door.  Now I suppose one might not find this so odd in itself.  I mean many a barn is inhabited by freeloaders other than the ones that are actually supposed to be there.  (Oh, oops.  Did I really just say that?)  But the rather remarkable thing in this instance,  is that first of all, there was an obvious lack of scurrying into corners when the Goatmother threw open the door and turned on the light.  Secondly,  and most significant in my savvy opinion, is that no where else in the barn was there any evidence of poop except  the one little pile, every morning, right smack dab in the center of the doorway.  How very peculiar, yet curiously organized.

So Watson and I hopped right onto the matter.  Clue one, there was never a daylight occurrence, so obviously the transgression was happening at night.  Now the door between the inner sanctum and our area of the barn is closed at night, making it impossible for us to do any kind of proper surveillance.  However, with my superior ear positioning, I could manage to listen rather well.  Sadly, when you stand next to Boo, few sounds can be heard above the incessant munching.  Obviously Watson was in a much better position to carry out this assignment.  Unfortunately, since Peanut is obsessed  with bouncing back and forth off the hoof trimming stand to gain, what he sees as, a better position from which to butt Watson, little success came from that front.

Admittedly we were failing.  Was it a squirrel?  A chipmunk?  Why were the poops only in one place and why was that place so resolutely chosen?  Was someone trying to send the Goatmother a message?  'Enter Ye not here, for this is my domain, Woman!'?  Now, I would like to interject here that most of you would probably like to see a picture of the 'evidence'.  But allow me to say that no picture will be forthcoming because, let's face it, how genteel is a picture of a pile of little poops?  I ask you, would this be at all proper?

Anyway, the Goatmother got tired of waiting, I'm afraid.  After all, this had been going on for almost two weeks.  In my defense, I had my mouth fu ... uh ... hooves full with other things.  Nonetheless, out came the live trap.  I have to complain a bit, here, because guess what she used to bait the live trap?  Yep.  My Peanuts!  Well, I have to say at least the culprit has good taste, because this morning when the Goatmother entered, there was the customary pile of little poops, but across the way, there inside the live trap, sat a little beady-eyed fuzzy.  No, it wasn't a fuzzy squirrel or a cute little chipmunk.  It was just a plain, garden-variety, rat, albeit not a very old one.  The Goatfather, official taxi service to the temporarily imprisoned, was informed  he had a fare, and the little blighter was hauled away.  We won't say to where, but should you happen to see a small rat running about, it absolutely did not come from here.

Well, mystery solved.  Hay, we helped didn't we?  We kept watch, as best we could, and offered all the advice my superior intellect has to offer.  When the Goatfather got back, he trekked off down to the pasture to burn a large pile of brush collected from the last big wind storm.  When he lit the fire, guess what?  Rodent-type dwellers scattered to the four winds.  Cabra was delighted and carried on like a small bulldozer running to and fro, nose to the ground, pushing aside all the leaves.  Don't worry.  She didn't catch anything.  No, I expect they all ran this way.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Hey!  It is Thursday and that means Reasons To Be Cheerful day!  So, here goes:
Reason To Be Cheerful No. 1 -

Kenny G ???????????????  Oh, goat grief!  Get the hay off here, Goatmother!  This is my blog!  Oy.

Reason To Be Cheerful No. 2 -

It's too cold for slugs.

And Reason To Be Cheerful No. 3 -

Living some place that has some of the best sunsets ever!
Now, be sure to pay a visit to Planet Penny and see what other people have to be cheerful about this week!

Wednesday Words of Widsom

So, before I impart this Wednesday's Words of Wisdom, I'd like to tell you a story.  You see, the other day the Goatfather got a letter in the mail telling him that he had been selected to participate in a study of Flu and the Flu vaccine by the CDC (Center for Disease Control).  Well, he laid the letter aside on the table.  Of course laying anything on the table is akin to sending it into a Black Hole.  You may see it again, and then again, you may not.  At any rate, he read it, set it aside, and didn't tell the Goatmother about it.

Well, the Goatmother, being the master cleaner, did sort of notice the letter laying there.  She did happen to notice that it said something about the CDC and a survey, and to her credit, she didn't cart it off to the recycle bin.   So yesterday, the Goatfather was off doing Goatfather things in the Man Cave, and the Goatmother was bopping about the house doing Goatmother things, when the phone rang.  Now, you know, a person can spend a lot of time getting on the 'Do Not Call' list, and trying to convince every mail order place in the world that you really don't want to receive their catalog.  Despite this fact, the catalogs still arrive and the phone still rings, usually at dinner time, and usually wanting a donation, a vote, or to let you know that this is absolutely your very last chance to receive that opportunity to raise your credit card limit.  So the  Goatmother dutifully picked up the phone, and when the guy said he was calling on behalf of the CDC and wished to speak to the Goatfather, the Goatmother said, 'Well, he's not available'. 

The survey taker was not daunted in the least and the next question was , "Am I speaking to an adult member of this household?"  The Goatmother replied, "Yes, but I'm really NOT interested."  This remark stopped the survey taker in his tracks.   I mean who exactly tells the Center for Disease Control they're not interested? "Can I ask why not?  This is a very important survey and will really help the Center for Disease Control and will only take a few minutes."  "Weeellll", said the Goatmother, "How many minutes?  I'm really busy."  "Fifteen ... and I'll talk really fast."  "Okay", replied the Goatmother, "Let's do it."

First off, the Goatmother seemed to recall that the Goatfather had indeed gotten a letter regarding this.  So, when the survey taker started firing off questions, the Goatmother made an attempt to give her answer plus the one the Goatfather would have given.  Now the survey taker never once told her that he didn't need to know both answers.   However, true to his word that man rattled off those questions so fast he probably could've won some sort of gold medal for World's Fastest Utterance of the English Language.  "Are you White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, Non-Asian, Asian-American, Native American, Latino, of Latino descent, or are you now or have you ever been a Bovine, Equine, Caprine, Canine or Feline?"  Okay, maybe that isn't exactly what he said, but it was so much and so fast that instead of answering the Goatmother just said, "Wow.  That was a mouthful."  The guy laughed.

More questions followed, many of which left the Goatmother wondering, 'I wonder what that has to do with the flu?'  Until, the guy said, "Are you now, or have you been, since July of 2011, pregnant.  Without hesitation, or even thought, the next words that came out of the Goatmother's mouth were these:  "Heaven forbid."  Now if anyone had thought the survey taker laughed before, this time someone likely had to pick him up off the floor after falling from his chair in hysterics.  "Well, I'm fifty-nine years old, for Pete's sake."

Needless to say, the survey taker finished his survey really fast, just as he had promised.  In the end, he asked the Goatmother if she had any other questions.  She said, "Two.  One, is this going to subject me to tons of junk mail, and two, since the letter was actually sent to the Goatfather, is he going to get another call to  get a chance to give his answers?" "Nope, absolutely NO junk mail", to which the Goatmother thought, 'Yeah.  We'll see."  And to the second question, the guy answered, "No.  One to a household.  This is going to go down as one interview with a 59 year old female."  "Oh.", said the Goatmother.  "Well, too bad for him, I guess."  This time the guy nearly busted a gut.


The moral of this story, and Wednesday's Words of Wisdom, are this: Always remember that statistics are only as good as the kinds of questions asked, the people asking those questions, and the people who answer.  Heaven forbid.

When I am Old ...

... I shall wear vampires?????

Okay, my friends, look quick.  The Goatmother simply hates to have her picture taken and this may well be the only one you will ever see.  It is a Halloween miracle.  What?  You only thought they happened at Christmas?

Anyway, you may recall the Goatmother simply loves Halloween.  So, it all began last night with a dinner of spider eggs and a lovely eyeball casserole.  Oh.  Yu - um?

Then this morning, out popped the Goatmother with the Little UnDead and the Goatfather in tow, on their way to Sweet Laurette's (Hay!  Check out her website.) in Port Townsend.  Not only does Sweet Laurette's have the most wonderful food, but it is owned and staffed by the most awesome people.  Anyway, patrons were invited to come dressed in costume during brunch yesterday and today, so, you guessed it, this is where our little party was bound.  The Goatmother had donned an Irish Renaissance gown (the top of which can be seen in the one and only probably ever picture of her above) for the occasion.

Here you see The Paltry Putrid One sitting in one of the chairs outside Sweet Laurette's.  I do not understand how it is that someone so, well, green, gets to go to all these places and I don't.

Anyway, once inside, the group was met by some of the awesome staff people.

Wouldn't you love to be greeted and served by a French maid, Wonder Woman and a Doctor?  Or is she a nurse?  At any rate, in this next photo you can see a 'normally' dressed young lady on the right. She was supposed to be Willie Nelson, but I guess we missed out on that because her alter ego apparently only comes out on Saturdays. No matter.  She stirs up a really mean cup of brew, that one, not to mention being an exceptional person.

Once seated, The Inconsiderable UnInert insisted on having his picture taken again.  Hardly anybody noticed.  Hardly...

I really think he was trying to get Laurette's cute little painter to come over and brush some of the crumbs off his coat.

Now I wouldn't want you to think that the Goatfather refused to enter into the spirit of things because he certainly did.  Sort of.

Even the Zombie guy across the street seemed envious.  Well, maybe he was envious.  Really it was kind of hard to tell.  Maybe he was just scoping out the place for brains.  Ewwwwww.  Don't be concerned, though.  Obviously none of our little party has any.  Oh, oops.  Did I just say that?

All in all, everyone had a great time.  So many places just don't celebrate Halloween anymore.  How cool is it that there are still a few around who do?  Gotta' love Port Townsend!

Now if I can just get someone to take me trick or treating. 

The Halloween Pillow

Now that the cat is out of the bag - or is it the goat out of the barn? - we can talk about it.  Oh, no, it isn't a big, deep, dark family secret, but it is rather interesting just the same.  You see, the first thing you need to know is that the goatmother is not much of a seamstress, or so she professes. She spent the first 8 years of  her education in Catholic school and somehow missed out on all the home economics classes the public school kids were required to take. Despite this obvious lack in her education, the goatmother decided to try making the goatdaughter a pillow for Halloween.  Now the goatdaughter loves Halloween almost as much as the goatmother, but the other thing the goatdaughter loves is fairies.  So you can well imagine, when the goatmother found a wonderful old reproduction of a Victorian Halloween card on fabric, she simply had to have it.  But what to do with it?

It took a bit of time, because, as I said, the goatmother is sadly lacking in the seamstress department. That is probably the reason I've never gotten a coat.  It has to be the reason, because, of course, everyone knows I need one. Anyway, the goatmother planned it out and worked and worked.  She picked out complementary fabrics and even added some charms, some bats, some decorative stitching, and a couple of antique buttons.  When she was finally finished, she boxed it up and sent it off to the goatdaughter.  That is why we can talk about it now.  At any rate, I thought you might like to see it.  She's kind of proud of it and she's been a little hard to live with.  I keep telling her she'd be a lot prouder if it was for me, but so far she hasn't paid any attention.  Still, one never knows, and I'm a persistent goat if nothing else.

Anyway, click on the picture for a larger version.

I guess you just never know until you try, right? 

"It is through accomplishment that man makes his contribution and contribution is life's greatest reward." - John Portman.

 Personally, I feel life's greatest reward comes in a shell. 

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Ah, well, it is Reasons To Be Cheerful day!  We simply can not forget that! And be sure to drop on over to Planet Penny to view others' reasons to be cheerful this week, or even add a link of your own!  So here we go.   My reasons to be cheerful  this week

1)  Guerrilla Art  (Please see this post for explanation)

2)  Cute little old men who stop and ask you, 'What the heck are you doing????' when you are out taking ridiculous pictures, and then join in the laughter.

3)  Halloween

BOO!

Wednesday Words of Wisdom

We live very close to Port Townsend.  Now Port Townsend touts itself as being an 'old Victorian seaport', and indeed it is just that.  It was the original entryway into the Puget Sound when Seattle was just a thought.  It is dotted with beautiful old Victorian homes and strives to maintain that ambiance.  But Port Townsend is also known for the arts - be that painting, drawing, sculpture, theater or any other form.  So really, should it have come as any surprise when the goatmother and goatfather tootled up Sims Way one morning and came upon this:

                                          Photo courtesy the Port Townsend Leader

What the hay????????!

Well, you see the city of Port Townsend, amidst much controversy, recently installed two round-abouts on Sims Way coming into town.  This sculpture appeared very early one morning in the center of the second round-about.  A city Halloween decoration?  Uh, that would be a 'No'.  For you see, Port Townsend is also known to be the home of 'Guerilla Art'.  Some time, in the dead of night, black-clad ninja-like forms covertly run about setting up random acts of art.  One never knows when or where they will appear.

Now the fantastic thing about this piece was the sheer magnitude of it, and the thought that anyone, or any number of someones, could manage to erect something that size without anyone knowing.  In case you can't quite make it out, it is a giant spider consuming a full-sized Volkswagen.  No kidding.  And, if you look to the left, there is an empty pink baby stroller.  Oy.  Now how cool is that?

The goatmother and goatfather went on to eat breakfast thinking they would take a picture of it when they were finished.  The city had other ideas and the whole thing was completely dismantled and taken away by the time they got back.  I, for one, really think they should have left it.  I mean how many cities do you know that have giant spiders eating Volkswagens on the way into town?

Personally I wish the ninjas would come back and erect some giant form of art there every year.  Maybe even two or three times a year.  I mean art is to be appreciated and Guerrilla Art, well, that has to be admired  simply on the basis of its improbability. 

"It's enough for you to do it once for a few men to remember you. But if you do it year after year, then many people remember you and they tell it to their children, and their children and grandchildren remember and, if it concerns books, they can read them. And if it's good enough, it will last as long as there are human beings." - Ernest Hemingway.

Wednesday's Words of Wisdom are this:  Support the arts.  Well, I guess I've done my part.  I think I'll go have a Peanut and figure out how I can get someone to erect a giant goat eating a Peanut.

Practically UnDead (Part 2)

Well, as promised, we're back again with the conclusion of  2011's Expedition of the UnDead - a foray into the world of 'Practical Magic'.  (Oooo.  Didn't that sound all professional?  I think someone ought to give me a Peanut for that one.)  Now, if you are just tuning in and haven't read Part 1 yet, then you better go on down the line and read that one first or you are bound to end up saying 'What the hay?'  Anyway, onward and upward!

When last we saw our hero, he had just found the site of Sally's shop on Main street.  So, 'Destination 4' is the Ursula building where Officer Hallet (Aidan Quinn) stays when he comes to investigate the disappearance of Nicole Kidman's former boyfriend.

This one proved a bit of a challenge since absolutely nothing seemed to be the same.  However, our little tribe managed to find the Ursula building because of the big sign on the top that said, well, 'Ursula'.  Duh.

As you can see, the front door is completely different and the big picket-type fence is no longer present.  And  just where exactly is that UnderSized UnOffed?

Ah, there he is.  If you ask me, I think he's smelling that old sailor-guy's armpit.  Now I don't want to point any fingers, but the goatmother walked off and left The Little UnDead again at this point.  Come to think of it, there might have been a reason.  I mean who wants to hang out with somebody who goes around smelling old sailors' armpits?  Anyway, they finally set off for 'Destination 5'.

In this scene, Sally is seen running home.  This was the most fun one to find because the group got to walk (or fly) up a small bluff with the wharf in the background.

That stupid disembodied hand got into the act on this one.  In it's defense, though, The Little Non-Lifer got so excited when they found the spot, that someone had to keep him from flying out of control.
 

Anyway, that was the end of the 'Destinations' - well for the movie anyway.  If you've never seen the movie, 'Practical Magic', then you should.  And if you've never been to Coupeville, well, you ought to do that too.  It's a pretty magical place.

But we're not quite done.  Nope.  Our intrepid band of travelers had one more stop to make.  Now, anyone that knows the Little UnDead knows that, well, he has a penchant for the red liquid.  No.  I am not referring to blood, although I can see why you would think that.  No, our little friend has a fondness for the fruit of the vine.  Let me be clear here.  I am not talking about grapes, but what grapes make.

With that in mind, it became necessary to make one last stop to visit one of the goatmother and the goatfather's favorite wineries.  Blooms Winery, in Freeland, is home to a Double Gold  award winning wine named 'Poetry', and some other pretty awesome wines as well.   They just happened to be doing a crush that day.  Of course The Diminutive DeadGuy had to get in on the act.

They were crushing Syrah, and our hero was able to get up close and personal with some of those luscious grapes.

Just look at that sappy grin.  Oy.

So, my friends, that brings us to the close of this year's Trip of the Light Fanatic.  There's just one more photo to leave you with.  It is one of those pictures worth a thousand words.  Maybe even a few more than that.

Oy.