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.