He's Baa-aack...

Well, after the unfortunate side trip to the Forks hospital, our Little Bereft-Of-Life did indeed go on to finish his tour. Naturally he had to make a stop at the Forks High School because this, of course, is where Edward and Bella went to school. Can you see him down below the sign?

Perhaps you can see him a little better in this artful shot. Oy.

At any rate, the last stop was to see Bella's truck parked at the Forks Chamber of Commerce. As you can see, the Cadaverous-And-Uncouth had to stand back for the picture until someone was kind enough to remove the fragrant garland so nicely adorning the grill.

But then, the Little Liquidated-And-Ludicrous-One's heart of hearts desire was fulfilled when he was, at last, able to pose with the truck. See him there by the license plate?

All too quickly, however, the fun was over and the Little Stiff-And-Stupefied was on his way back home. Fortunately, there were signs to point him in the right direction.

Really glad to have you back Little Cold-And-Clueless. That was quite an adventure for such an abbreviated little fellow.

But, uhm, I think you stood way too close to that garlic. And STOP calling me MariBella already! Oy.

The Little UnDead Does Twilight (Part 2)

No doubt you've all been waiting with bated breath for an update on The Little UnDead's sojourn to Forks. So get comfortable, pull up a chair and grab some Peanuts because here is Part 2.

After spending his first night hanging (literally) in a tree, The Little Undead started out for the Swan house. This, of course, is where Bella Swan lived with Charlie, her father and Police Chief of Forks, in 'Twilight'. You will, perhaps, notice that stupid disembodied arm is still around. Oy. I am given to understand his name is Stanley. One just never knows who one might stumble across on the road to Perdition...

Anyway, then it was on to the Cullen house! You know The Little Life-Challenged had a really hard time containing himself here. Team Edward and all that. So here you see him in front of the house with 'Stanley'. You don't see him???

Well, he is kind of short. Is this better??? Yep. There his is...hiding in the bushes like a real vampire.

So with the Cullen house behind him, the Little Dead-and-Dazed stopped by the Forks City Hall. This, of course, is where Charlie Swan was employed. If you look closely, you will see our Little Embicilic-and-Expired atop the sign. Still having trouble???

What about now??? Is this better??? Now, as you can see (I hope), this was quite a height for someone as altitudinally-challenged as our Little Half-Baked One. Which is how he ended up at his last point of interest for the day.

You see our Little Lifeless Lackluster fell off the Forks City Hall sign, leading him here...
I'd think one could expect a little more from someone who can fly, wouldn't you? Oy, boy.

Oh, well. There is an old Chinese proverb that says, "Only he that has traveled the road knows where the holes are deep." I think that about covers it.

The Little Undead Does 'Twilight' (Part 1)

Well, we heard from The Little UnDead. After departing our humble farm, he flew into Forks...literally. Sadly, just after taking the picture below, The Little Ignoramus had a narrow escape with the logging truck you see coming. He didn't... see it that is. Oy. Never, never snap and drive, Little UnDead Dude. Dangerous practice that.

Anyway, if that weren't bad enough, The Little Obtuse One didn't even manage to get a picture of the 'Welcome To Forks' sign. Why, you ask? Well, let's just say when you fly with your eyes closed you tend to miss a few things - like very large signs looming in your path. So, it would seem the camera he was carrying 'bit the dust' in the encounter. Get it? Dead guy? Bit the dust? ...ahem... Okay, well, all I have to say is thank goodness for those wonderful disposable jobs. If you ask me, whoever invented those definitely knew someone like The Little UnMindful.

So back to the story. After the mishap with the 'Welcome To Forks' sign, our cute Little Philistine headed for some place to buy a new camera. What better place than the Forks Outfitters ( reported place of employment of Bella Swan, non-dead heroine). I have to tell you he was pretty darned excited. I can't say to whom the incorporeal arm belongs, but no doubt it was to some other 'Team Edward' zealot. Plus, The Little UnWitting probably needed the support to contain his fervor. At any rate, I doubt the arm remembers the event even if the whole mesmerizing thing didn't work - or at least no one would admit to it if they did. Would you?

Now then, by the time a new camera was obtained, and all was said and done, the day was pretty much spent. So, our rascally Little Moron decided to look for a place to spend the night. Naturally when he saw the sign below he was dead (Ha! 'dead'...I slay me...) set against staying there. No doubt it was run by some 'Team Jacob' devotee anyway.

In the end, The Undead wound up hanging out in a tree for the night. Again, quite literally. No one seemed to mind - or even notice for that matter. Thus the first day of the Twilight Trek came to a close. I suppose we should hope that the next installment is a little less fraught with catastrophe, and we must most certainly hope that The Little UnIntellectual comes back to us in one green piece. After all," "Remember what Bilbo used to say: "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." " - J. R. R. Tolkien.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

Ah, yes. It is finally October - my favorite time of the year. You might remember that last year, about this time, I began a series of posts about 'spooky' things. Well, I see absolutely no reason to change tradition. This year, however , I would like to present something a bit divergent from the past. For this year, I would like to introduce you to my friend (who is about as divergent as they come). You see, folks, this is someone who has been with us for quite awhile. In fact, he has been living (or maybe not so much) with the goatmother for a number of years prior even to the appearance of we goats. Below is a picture of my friend.

Allow me to introduce to you, The Little Undead. You are, perhaps, wondering why he is pictured here amongst the Stinging Nettles. It is quite a long story, but suffice it to say that his personality is such that people (even goats) often become perturbed with his behavior, at which point he is promptly tossed (or butted) into the Nettles. It seems to help him gain a certain grasp on reality.

Anyway, some of you may realize that our farm is quite close to the town of Forks, featured in the book 'Twilight'. And, knowing that, you would, of course, also know that 'Twilight' is the story of a girl (Bella Swan) who falls hopelessly in love with a vampire (Edward Cullen). Not really my idea of true love (that would have to involve Peanuts), but you must understand that The Little Undead is more than a little taken with the book. As a matter of fact, the word 'obsessed' comes to mind...or would it be 'possessed'?

At any rate, my friend has decided to take a trip (Well, maybe 'pilgrimage' is a better word.) to none other than Forks.

"That's a really long way for such a short guy, Little Undead."

"I don't care. I can make it. I can mesmerize people into giving me rides if I get tired of the whole 'bat' thing."

"All-rightey then. Ahem."

"Okay, young green one. Go forth, then, to Forks. Seek the Holy Grail of Vampiredom. What is the Holy Grail of Vampiredom anyway??? Go forth, promoting 'Team Edward' unto all who deign to harken unto your words."

So I straightened his bow tie...

... gave him a kiss for luck, and sent him up the road. So stay tuned, my friends, for in the days to come we shall come to know just what The Little Undead encountered on his journey to the mecca.

The Summer That Wouldn't Die

So here's the thing. This Tuesday it will be Fall, but it doesn't feel like Fall. Oh, no. We are so dry that we goats are 'spittin' cotton'. No, really. The grass is dying and the trees are turning brown. We had a smidgen of rain last night, but it wasn't enough. The goatmother is getting tired of slogging hoses around trying to keep everything from dying. This makes her crabby. Crabby means this: 'If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.' Oy.

I mean last year we had snow on the mountains by the end of September. Now,there isn't even any rain in the forecast through the end of the month! Oy, I say. Just plain Oy.

So I'm gonna' sit on my stump and meditate about this. Surely a little meditation will convince the Universe we need some rain to welcome autumn. After all, "There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!" - Percy Bysshe Shelley

'Word', Percy.

A Most Disturbing Day

I guess one should always be prepared because you just never know. Take for example this morning. This morning the goatmother came out and did all her goatly chores - like passing out Peanuts. Things were all quite normal. The goatmother, the Mighty Quinn and Cabra went back into the house. The goatmother had just gotten out of the shower when Cabra began to go crazy, running hither and yon barking wildly. Okay, well, Cabra does lean toward being the alarmist, so the goatmother glanced out the window and saw some yellow pass by. That was her first mistake since she didn't have her glasses on at the time. The goatmother just shrugged and thought, 'Oh, it's just the neighbor kid.'

Now the neighbor kid is a Golden Retriever who regularly comes up for his daily 'poop and pat' - so named because that is what he does. He finds someplace to poop and then he wanders about and comes to the goatmother to get a pat on the head. I don't really understand how that works since the goatmother never pats me for pooping, but maybe it has something to do with being a dog. I can't be sure.

Anyway, back to my story... The goatmother ignored Cabra, telling her it was just the neighbor kid, and that was her second mistake. She should have paid more attention. Just then the phone rang and it was the neighbor - the very one with whom the neighbor kid lives. It seems there had been an extremely large yellow dog, with no collar, barking at their house. The neighbor went out and the dog would not come to her. Instead he growled. So the neighbor was warning the goatmother and the goatfather to be on the lookout, and not to let the Mighty Quinn or Cabra out unsupervised. 'Hmmm,' thought the goatmother. 'I guess I should have put my glasses on.' Yes, goatmother. You should have. And what's with that neighbor, anyway? What about the goats? Doesn't anyone care about the GOATS?

Now the other disturbing thing about today was that no weather station anywhere said it was going to rain. So, guess what? It rained. You see we were all standing out in the pasture by the tire. This is our most favorite place to stand and the goatmother calls it the 'Buffalo Wallow'. That makes absolutely no sense because none of us looks anything like a Buffalo, but then I suppose one could feasibly mistake Boo for a Buffalo - if they didn't have their glasses on. Oy.

Anyway, there we all were, just minding our own business, when suddenly said huge yellow dog appeared out of nowhere near the barn. Ella snorted. ( I know. It isn't very lady-like, not to mention undignified, but there you have it. It gets the job done.) Everyone came to immediate attention, including the goatmother who had, by that time, arrived at the back door. The goatfather came out and managed to scare the dog away - somewhat, but by then we were all so concerned we were too afraid to go to the barn. Which is why it was so disturbing that it was raining when it wasn't supposed to be raining. That meant we were all standing in the pouring rain. Anyone that knows anything, knows that goats DO NOT like rain. As a matter of fact, we will go to great lengths to avoid getting wet, and will do almost anything to that end. Anything, that is, except move when a suspected predator attack is in the offing. Oh, no. Not a hair moves in that case. Not even two hairs.

But back to the dog... The goatmother redeemed herself in the end. She donned her raincoat and, staff in hand, came out and escorted us all to the barn. Whew! Plus we got more hay in the bargain. Mind you I could not bring myself to concentrate fully on consuming it seeing as how it was necessary to keep running back and forth checking to see if the menace had returned. Oh, well. That kind of thing helps to maintain my svelte figure (despite recent rumors that I follow the philosophy of SUMO. Harummpf.).

In retrospect, I feel quite sure we could have handled our situation more competently had we had enough time to consider it fully first. After all, it has been said, "The world is full of abundance and opportunity, but far too many people come to the fountain of life with a sieve instead of a tank car...a teaspoon instead of a steam shovel. They expect little and as a result they get little." - Ben Sweetland. With that in mind, let it be hereby noted that I expect quite a lot and should the situation of the big yellow dog arise again, we are coming to the fountain with that tank car. Yes, indeed. Should it happen again we are shoving Boo to the FRONT!

Goat Yoga

The summer has been a long, hot and dry one, leading one toward the pursuit of nothing more than laying around, waiting for the heat to pass, and the occasional Peanut. Recently, however, I, in my intellectually superior way, have come to consider the great benefits of Yoga. For you see, Yoga is not merely the pretzeling of body parts into aberrant and unnatural positions. No, my friends, the Yogi strives to manifest Universal Life through a controlled, ordered and healthy mind and body. That is to say that through the pursuit of this material philosophy, one might become stronger. One might stand to gain strength in mind and body. One might just get the Peanut before anyone else does.

So, in keeping with my new-found endeavor, I and my compatriots have embarked on a satisfying, albeit rigorous, regime of mastery of the art of Yoga. Detailed below is evidentiary testimony of our arduous efforts.

Here is a stunning example of the Warrior Pose (Virasana).

Next, we see an example of the Eagle Pose (Garudasana), brilliantly executed by myself.

A most impressive representation of the Spinal Twist (Ardha Matsendrasana).

And, of course, no regime would be complete without Downward-Facing Goat (Adho Mukha Svanasana).

Naturally, I have not been alone in my efforts, witnessed here by this handsome rendition of the Half-Moon (Ardha-chandrasana), executed so masterfully by my nephew, Peanut.

Even Boo has taken the task to heart. Here we see her in a first-rate interpretation of the Mountain Pose (Tadasana). Of course this is the only pose she has come to master (for obvious reasons), but I suppose we must give her an 'A' in self-awareness.

Lastly, allow me to leave you with this spectacular exemplification of the Lotus Position (Matsyāsana).

In the practice of Yoga, one must pay particular attention to the breath, breathing deeply from the diaphragm. Be sure to breathe out slowly and completely. Since this needs to be accomplished uniformly, it is a good idea to employ a long, sustained sound that will vibrate within the skull and allow concentration - something such as the word, 'Oyyyyyyyyyyyymmm'. With this in mind, allow me to leave you with these last thoughts. Be vigilant in your efforts to achieve inner Peace. "Butt wood and carry Peanuts", and, of course, "What is the sound of one hoof clomping?"