Marigold!
MmmPflmmff ...
Why haven't you been blogging? What HAVE you been doing with your time???
MmmPflmmffftt ...
Marigold!!!
What??? MmmPflmmftt ...
MARIGO-OOOLD!!!! STOP EATING!!!!
What??!!! You're bothering me. MmmPflmmfffftttt ...
Marigold! You're fat!!! You're TOO fat!!! You belong in the Fat Girls' pasture like our friend Belle has, only we don't HAVE a Fat Girls' pasture.
You are annoying. You are an annoying Goatmother. Go away. MmmmPflmmmttttt ...
Okay for you then. NO MORE Peanuts until you have started blogging again. You owe it to yourself and to your public ... which come to think of it is probably not even out there anymore. They have probably gone on to other more important pursuits. They are probably following the blogs of frogs ... or horses ... or maybe even porcupines! I would NOT blame them if they were, in fact, following the blog of some interesting and intelligent porcupine that does something more than sit around and eat all day. Yes, some CUTE little Porkie some place. It would serve you right!!!
MmmmPflmmmttttMmmmflt ..... A porcupine you say??? Oy. What could a porcupine possibly have to say that was even remotely interesting? Okay. I'll start blogging again. I can't let some ignorant rodent out-do me. It wouldn't be seemly, now would it? Not to mention how would a porcupine even have access to a computer? Tell me that. Oy - yoy.
Stay tuned ..... MmmPflmmff ....
Life goes on amidst change. Finding the laughter one day at a time...
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
The Visit
Well very recently we had visitors. Now these weren't just any visitors, mind you. These were the very best kind of visitors. The kind bearing gifts. You know, like Peanuts and cookies. Like lots of Peanuts and cookies. Big Peanuts and organic cookies. Are you getting the picture here?
Here let me show you:
You will notice who is front and center? Look how svelte I am. Also notice that *the Alpine* has her nose turned away. This is a good thing, just in case you didn't know that already.
Now I want to tell you here and now that the Goatmother could take a lesson from these two lovely young ladies. First of all, one did not need to beg. Peanuts and cookies were offered freely. Generously. With abandon. None of this, 'Marigold, you simply must wait your turn.' Or, 'Marigold! Share!'. No, my friends, with these two it was first come, first served. And since I am most definitely the fastest and most sure-footed goat here, guess who was served most often? Which, come to think of it, might be why *the Alpine* has her nose out of joint in that picture. Oh, well. It is what it is, Ella. Live with it.
Anyway, just look at this one:
See there? That sainted young lady is making sure the Peanut goes directly to me. How considerate! How polite! And you thought all kids did these days was play video games. No. And notice how she ignores *the Alpine* even though said Alpine is trying to insinuate herself between me and the source of joy? Marvelous! Rapturous! First class all the way.
The only problem with this visit was that they just didn't stay long enough. I miss them terribly. Well, I miss all those Peanuts and cookies, but I really did like the girls too. Besides, the Goatmother is just stingy. Maybe they'll come back if I ask politely.
At any rate, I hope if you have visitors at your house, they are as splendid as these. There is an old saying "The ornaments of your house will be the guests who frequent it." ~Author Unknown Do you suppose that counts for barns too???
Here let me show you:
You will notice who is front and center? Look how svelte I am. Also notice that *the Alpine* has her nose turned away. This is a good thing, just in case you didn't know that already.
Now I want to tell you here and now that the Goatmother could take a lesson from these two lovely young ladies. First of all, one did not need to beg. Peanuts and cookies were offered freely. Generously. With abandon. None of this, 'Marigold, you simply must wait your turn.' Or, 'Marigold! Share!'. No, my friends, with these two it was first come, first served. And since I am most definitely the fastest and most sure-footed goat here, guess who was served most often? Which, come to think of it, might be why *the Alpine* has her nose out of joint in that picture. Oh, well. It is what it is, Ella. Live with it.
Anyway, just look at this one:
See there? That sainted young lady is making sure the Peanut goes directly to me. How considerate! How polite! And you thought all kids did these days was play video games. No. And notice how she ignores *the Alpine* even though said Alpine is trying to insinuate herself between me and the source of joy? Marvelous! Rapturous! First class all the way.
The only problem with this visit was that they just didn't stay long enough. I miss them terribly. Well, I miss all those Peanuts and cookies, but I really did like the girls too. Besides, the Goatmother is just stingy. Maybe they'll come back if I ask politely.
At any rate, I hope if you have visitors at your house, they are as splendid as these. There is an old saying "The ornaments of your house will be the guests who frequent it." ~Author Unknown Do you suppose that counts for barns too???
Sunday, February 16, 2014
The Floors
Like the proverbial bad Peanut, I'm back!
Really, Marigold? We've heard THAT one before.
No, seriously. I AM back. And I even have an excuse.
Yeah. Right. They always have an *excuse*.
Okay, well, just let me tell you the story, okay? It's like this ...
The Goatmother and Goatfather decided to have their floors redone. I know. I don't get it either. I mean they had floors, right? It's not like they were dirt or anything. We have dirt floors. Why don't we get new floors? Well, never mind ...
Anyway, the Goatparents had several folks out to do estimates. Just like Goldilocks trying out all the three bears' stuff, one was too much, one drove the Goatmother bananas (or was it Peanuts?), and one was juusst right ... or so they thought. All in all, this was simply the start of a not-so-fabulous adventure.
First of all, what the Goatmother thought might take, oh, two or three weeks, ended up taking FOUR months! That's right, I said four months. Not weeks. Who knew? And this, of course, resulted in one brilliant and beautifully airplane-eared goat not being able to get into the house, let alone near a computer. Now I tried, mind you, to get the Goatmother to bring me a laptop in the barn, but she just kept saying she was waaaay too busy. And just why was she too busy? I mean it wasn't her putting those planks down on the floor, now was it? No, my friends, it's just that all this floor stuff required everything in the house to be moved. Twice. And sometimes more than twice. That Goatmother was so tired she was barely making it out to the barn. Now that would have been a travesty.
But anyway, anyone who knows anything (and trust me there are a LOT of folks who do not fall into this category) knows that if one decides to embark upon a career as a contractor, one is required (Hay, maybe even by law for all I know) to sign a contract. (Is this why they are called 'contractors'? Hmm ... ). Anyhow, this contract contains many stipulations ... requirements which must be met in order to actually get a license. Some of these requirements are general in nature, but some are very specific and include things like:
1) I must carry on at least three other jobs while working on any one job.
2) I must not show up all the time at any one job until that job is finished, but must, instead, work a few days in one place, one or two at another, go back to the first one, at least show my face at the third before going back to either of the other two, so forth and so on ad infinitum.
3) I must be sick as often as possible and take advantage of any holiday that should fall within the allotted job's time frame by needing extra days before and after said holiday.
4) I must make mistakes ... let me repeat this part ... I must make mistakes and appear to be entirely incapable of observing any flaws on my own because, just like any other artist, I realize perfection belongs to God. As a mere human I accept that perfection is an unobtainable goal, so why even try? And besides, if I do it once, they are certainly bound to expect that calibre of work.
5) It is mandatory that I not be present at the job site when any other contractor is working there in order to make it as inconvenient as possible for those usurpers (as well as for the person or persons who have hired me to do this ridiculous job in the first place.)
6) I will smile and nod agreeably to any suggestion or request presented and then do exactly as I wanted to in the first place because, after all, I am the professional here.
7) I shall not be required to remember to bring everything I need to the job site and subsequently either borrow it from the home owner or find it necessary to go home and get it, stopping along the way for oh, say, coffee, or maybe lunch, or perhaps a chat with an old acquaintance I met at Home Depot, which is where I had to go to get the thing I needed since the home owner didn't have one and I couldn't find the one I had at home.
8) It is entirely obligatory to stop whatever I am working on at least every few minutes to answer my cell phone because, after all, it is ringing and it could be something extremely important like my wife wondering what I'm doing or one of those pesky usurping sub-contractors calling to find out why I'm not at their job site even though they know it is a requirement that I not show up. (Didn't these guys read their contract before they got their license?)
9) I shall leave as early as possible on any given work day because I have *another appointment*, a *phone call to make* (which couldn't possibly have been satisfied during the execution of Rule #8), or I am going home to right now take care of a problem incurred during the execution of Rule # 4, but which, in fact, must take place at the site of job No. 2 or No. 3 (Please see Rule # 2), unless, of course, the home owner is offering beer, in which case all above are null and void.
10) (And my personal favorite) Thou shalt not finish any job within the original specified time but instead get just enough done to make it impossible (as well as unprofitable) to find anyone else to finish and then keep stringing it along for as long as possible. You know, just in case ...
So what can I say? If you have ever had any work done by a *contractor*, then you likely know exactly what I've been saying here. The last of the faux pas was cleaned up by our blessed and skillful neighbor just this week. I guess in truth, this makes it a total of FIVE months. The Goatmother has vowed not to look at the floor anymore. Can one vacuum or mop with their eyes closed? Perhaps the Helen Keller school has a Housework by Braille program. At any rate, I am back, just like I said. The Goatmother is a little more sane. Actually, I suppose she was never sane in the first place. Nonetheless, I haven't lost my philosophical touch and to prove it, I shall leave you with a quotation from the venerable and much loved Confucius: "Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life." Who knew they had contractors in 479 B.C.?
Oy.
Really, Marigold? We've heard THAT one before.
No, seriously. I AM back. And I even have an excuse.
Yeah. Right. They always have an *excuse*.
Okay, well, just let me tell you the story, okay? It's like this ...
The Goatmother and Goatfather decided to have their floors redone. I know. I don't get it either. I mean they had floors, right? It's not like they were dirt or anything. We have dirt floors. Why don't we get new floors? Well, never mind ...
Anyway, the Goatparents had several folks out to do estimates. Just like Goldilocks trying out all the three bears' stuff, one was too much, one drove the Goatmother bananas (or was it Peanuts?), and one was juusst right ... or so they thought. All in all, this was simply the start of a not-so-fabulous adventure.
First of all, what the Goatmother thought might take, oh, two or three weeks, ended up taking FOUR months! That's right, I said four months. Not weeks. Who knew? And this, of course, resulted in one brilliant and beautifully airplane-eared goat not being able to get into the house, let alone near a computer. Now I tried, mind you, to get the Goatmother to bring me a laptop in the barn, but she just kept saying she was waaaay too busy. And just why was she too busy? I mean it wasn't her putting those planks down on the floor, now was it? No, my friends, it's just that all this floor stuff required everything in the house to be moved. Twice. And sometimes more than twice. That Goatmother was so tired she was barely making it out to the barn. Now that would have been a travesty.
But anyway, anyone who knows anything (and trust me there are a LOT of folks who do not fall into this category) knows that if one decides to embark upon a career as a contractor, one is required (Hay, maybe even by law for all I know) to sign a contract. (Is this why they are called 'contractors'? Hmm ... ). Anyhow, this contract contains many stipulations ... requirements which must be met in order to actually get a license. Some of these requirements are general in nature, but some are very specific and include things like:
1) I must carry on at least three other jobs while working on any one job.
2) I must not show up all the time at any one job until that job is finished, but must, instead, work a few days in one place, one or two at another, go back to the first one, at least show my face at the third before going back to either of the other two, so forth and so on ad infinitum.
3) I must be sick as often as possible and take advantage of any holiday that should fall within the allotted job's time frame by needing extra days before and after said holiday.
4) I must make mistakes ... let me repeat this part ... I must make mistakes and appear to be entirely incapable of observing any flaws on my own because, just like any other artist, I realize perfection belongs to God. As a mere human I accept that perfection is an unobtainable goal, so why even try? And besides, if I do it once, they are certainly bound to expect that calibre of work.
5) It is mandatory that I not be present at the job site when any other contractor is working there in order to make it as inconvenient as possible for those usurpers (as well as for the person or persons who have hired me to do this ridiculous job in the first place.)
6) I will smile and nod agreeably to any suggestion or request presented and then do exactly as I wanted to in the first place because, after all, I am the professional here.
7) I shall not be required to remember to bring everything I need to the job site and subsequently either borrow it from the home owner or find it necessary to go home and get it, stopping along the way for oh, say, coffee, or maybe lunch, or perhaps a chat with an old acquaintance I met at Home Depot, which is where I had to go to get the thing I needed since the home owner didn't have one and I couldn't find the one I had at home.
8) It is entirely obligatory to stop whatever I am working on at least every few minutes to answer my cell phone because, after all, it is ringing and it could be something extremely important like my wife wondering what I'm doing or one of those pesky usurping sub-contractors calling to find out why I'm not at their job site even though they know it is a requirement that I not show up. (Didn't these guys read their contract before they got their license?)
9) I shall leave as early as possible on any given work day because I have *another appointment*, a *phone call to make* (which couldn't possibly have been satisfied during the execution of Rule #8), or I am going home to right now take care of a problem incurred during the execution of Rule # 4, but which, in fact, must take place at the site of job No. 2 or No. 3 (Please see Rule # 2), unless, of course, the home owner is offering beer, in which case all above are null and void.
10) (And my personal favorite) Thou shalt not finish any job within the original specified time but instead get just enough done to make it impossible (as well as unprofitable) to find anyone else to finish and then keep stringing it along for as long as possible. You know, just in case ...
So what can I say? If you have ever had any work done by a *contractor*, then you likely know exactly what I've been saying here. The last of the faux pas was cleaned up by our blessed and skillful neighbor just this week. I guess in truth, this makes it a total of FIVE months. The Goatmother has vowed not to look at the floor anymore. Can one vacuum or mop with their eyes closed? Perhaps the Helen Keller school has a Housework by Braille program. At any rate, I am back, just like I said. The Goatmother is a little more sane. Actually, I suppose she was never sane in the first place. Nonetheless, I haven't lost my philosophical touch and to prove it, I shall leave you with a quotation from the venerable and much loved Confucius: "Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life." Who knew they had contractors in 479 B.C.?
Oy.
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