Countdown to Halloween - Goatula

Gadzooks!!!


What is that?!!!


Ahhhh!!!! Run for cover! Stick People, Stick People!!!! Help!!!!!!


Oh. My. GOAT!!!!


I'm not sure. (I'm never quite sure.) But, can it be???


Yesss. It is I ... Goatula.


Ah, human. Gaze deep into my eyes. I vant to drink your bluhd. No? Then perhaps a few of your choicest Peanuts?


"You may either win your peace or buy it: win it by resistance to evil; buy it by compromise with evil." - John Ruskin (1819-1900, British Critic, Social Theorist )

Countdown to Halloween - The Stick People

Awhile back, the goatdaughter came to visit. She and the goat-son-in-law decided to spend a day in Seattle before coming over to the Olympic Peninsula. While in Seattle visiting a museum, the goatdaughter was told the spooky tale of the 'stick people' who are said to inhabit the Olympics. What!? That's where we live! So I decided it would be most wise to investigate this legend a bit further, especially since we have a LOT of sticks around here.

It seems many of the Salish tribes that live in this area, as well as British Columbia, have legends of the 'stick people'. Some say they are 'little people' and some say they are the size of a person, but all say they dwell in the mountain forests and in no way do you want to mess with them. The Yakama Indians call them the Ste-ye-hah' mah (spirit hiding under the cover of the woods. Spooky, huh?) They are said to whistle like a bird in the evening when birds are normally silent. If you care to investigate, you are led farther and farther into the forest, never to return.

Oy.

Now one might tend to begin speculating at this point. Why would anyone, especially a goat, be afraid of a stick? Oh, Goat Eggs! I mean we're talking sticks here. But you see, several accounts of encounters with these 'stick people' relate the very peculiar habit these beings seem to possess of 'poking sticks into lodges to extract or harass victims', or even to 'rain sticks down upon them'. One account even has them as skilled hunters of goats! Egoats! I can tell you right now, if I feel any sticks poking through the walls of my 'lodge' on a cold October night, Homegoat Security is going on red alert and it will be 'man the buttle stations'!!! Ain't no arborescent-American comin' in on my watch! Besides that, we have quite enough rain here, thank you very much, without having to submit to any raining down of long, straight pieces of solid material. We get quite enough of that when the wind blows.

All in all, I have to admit to a little uneasiness, though. One of the S'Klallam tribes is just down the road from us. Don't you suppose that might tend to attract those sticky little devils? On the other hand, I have read that the S'Klallam raised 'herds' of wool dogs, kept solely for the purpose of growing wool to make blankets. Historical records describe them as small dogs with long, fine, soft hair that were either white or sort of beige in color. Hmmmm.... Now who does that sound like? Perhaps, we goats have nothing to fear, and those resinous, goat-hunting menaces will go after that downy little dirt-devil instead. In fact, this wouldn't be a bad thing since the Mighty Quinn actually likes chasing sticks. As a matter of fact, he lives to chase sticks. I believe it was Theodore Roosevelt who said, 'Speak softly and carry a big stick'. To that, I say, 'Go Fetch, Mighty Quinn! Go Fetch!'

Countdown to Halloween - The Dirt Devil

Now that's Scary!

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Ah! Halloween! My favorite time of year! That being said, I have decided to dedicate the remainder of my posts for the month of October to just that - Halloween! Now one might not think a goat would be interested in anything spooky, but I can assure you 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' And so we begin our little 'countdown' to Halloween. Hold onto your Peanuts and get yourself prepared for a wild ride into the realm of the unknown and unheard of. BaaaHaHaHaHaaaaaaa!!!!!!!

We begin our journey by delving into the imponderable domain of the ghost goat. Ha! You thought such incomprehensibly hideous occurrences were the stuff of mere goattales. But verily I say unto thee, 'Fie!' It is not only possible, but quite probable. Allow me to offer proof. Please click here, and if you are squeamish or easily frightened, be forewarned. What you are about to see is truly, truly terrifying.

Bend It Like Beckham

Just why is it that so many people these days are fascinated with Soccer? And really, the fascination doesn't just end with people. Take, for example, the Mighty Quinn. Granted he still hasn't figured out how to herd goats, but you won't see me complaining about that anytime soon. Still, I have to hand it to the guy. When it comes to soccer, well, I can't imagine a dog being any more adept at the game. Just take a look at this:

Allow me to give you a little play-by-play commentary. You see the Mighty Quinn is what is known as the Striker. That would be the team's Forward and primary scoring threat. Now Cabra, on the other hand, would be what is known as the Attacking Midfielder. You see it is her job to play right behind the Striker, a position she manages with a great deal of zest and skill. She is also very good at Charging, a method of running at and unbalancing the player who has possession of the ball. Or course it would probably be better if the one in possession were actually on the opposing team.

Nonetheless, occasionally the ball goes into the goal and just sort of gets 'stuck' there. In the above video we can see the Mighty Quinn's solution to this dilemma as he employs a Trap, using his entire body to scoot the ball backward where it can again be entered into the field of play. In the end we see him employ the move he is credited with creating as he uses the ball to spin his entire body into the direction of play. Of course, such expenditures of energy do tend to sap one's momentum.

So after witnessing such fine prowess on the playing field, we goats thought we might give it a try. After all, a goat simply should be better at things than a dog. At any rate, the result has been captured below - for posterity.



Initially, I approach the ball. It doesn't seem to be doing anything, so I ignore it. A shrewd play as is witnessed by the congratulatory chest-bump combo I exchange with Boo afterward. (Okay, well, heads work a lot better than chests for goats.)

Next, Peanut approaches the ball, snorts and does a diagonal cross toward the barn. This is clearly an attempt at the Offside Trap, a play of defense to catch the attacking team offside. I think it worked rather nicely, and I must say the added 'snort' really makes anyone think twice before trying to steal that ball.

Afterward, we see Watson approach the ball and then do a Feint (that is Feint and not Faint, by the way), no doubt thinking that if he looks away from the ball it might just come after him - or not. After all, he did freeze up a couple of times. Still he is probably the best Stopper we have - in more ways than one.

Now we come to an example of the Drop Ball, a method of restarting the game. All team members scatter, suspecting a Foul, no doubt, but ending up in the Corner Arc in a mass effort to thwart the ball from entering the goal. It is unclear as to why Boo looks so alarmed.

Lastly, we see Peanut execute a masterful rendition of the Banana Kick. Too bad he wasn't in contact with the ball at the time, but rather felt the ball was trying to get into contact with him. In the end, I suppose the fact that everyone ran off-field indicates that perhaps Soccer really isn't the best sport for goats. Well, I don't mind. After all, “The spotlight will always be on me, but it's something I'm learning to live with as the years go by.” - David Beckham

The Case of the Cloistered Caterpillars

Ah! A new mystery is afoot! Marigold Holmes here, along with my faithful sidekick, the inimitable Watson. Grudgingly we are allowing Peanut to play along in the role of 'boy wonder' on this one. So what, you ask, is the big mystery? The big mystery is that we have seen not one, but two Woolly Boogers in the barn. "Wait just a goober-eating minute, here, Marigold! Just what is so dad-blamed unusual about seeing a Woolly Booger at this time of year?"

Well allow me to tell you just what is so special. Granted last year we saw lots and lots of Woolly Boogers. Really too many to be comfortable. They were everywhere, and it was just plain hard to walk without stepping in the middle of one or almost having one for lunch. So seeing only two Woolly Boogers doesn't appear, at first glance, to be anything noteworthy. However, the fact is that both these Woolly Boogers were inside the barn. Now just why, in a goat's Peanut-eating dream, were these guys inside and not outside as all the others have been? You see, my friends, herein lies the conundrum.

I do, however, have a theory. You see today is the Equinox. To be precise, it is the Autumnal Equinox, a point at which the length of day and night are equal all over the earth. Actually it is due to the Earth reaching a point in it's annual orbit around the sun at which the polar inclination is at right angles to a line drawn between the Earth and the Sun. (An astronomical goat. Who knew?) At any rate, the appearance of the Woolly Boogers, as you might remember from last year, signals a rough winter ahead in folklore...or goatlore, depending upon which theory you care to subscribe.

So, we can look at this in two ways. First, there have been only two Woolly Boogers sighted. Only two. Must be a very mild winter ahead for us. On the other hand, both of these Woolly Boogers were inside the barn. Now why would they be inside and not outside? One can only surmise that they were 'getting-the-hay out of Dodge'. The winter is going to be SO bad that the only two surviving Woolly Boogers felt compelled to find the most protected (not to mention cozy and Peanut-packed) environment possible in which to ride out the haylacious storm.

So, it is the Equinox. Equal. Fifty-Fifty. In line with that vein of thought, it would seem to me that, all things being equal , we have an exact fifty-fifty chance of having either a very bad or a very good winter. But which will it be? Occam's Razor theorizes, "All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best." In that case, I suppose the simplest solution would be to just wait and see, and perhaps have a few Peanuts while we wait. We certainly can't ask the Woolly Boogers. They never tell the truth anyway.

Philosophically Country

My name is Marigold. People look at me and say 'Here comes trouble.' After all, Trouble is my middle name. But the way I see it, it takes one to know one. Really, people ought to be more careful about what they say since you cain't never tell which way the pickle's gonna' squirt.

Now I live in the country. To be exact, it's down yonder in the holler. You might think that's a purty fur piece from anywhere important, but really it's only about as far as two mop handles and a long string. Why shucks in a bucket!!! It's as purty as a speckled pup here and very safe. Why it's as safe as if you were in Abraham's back pocket and him fixin' to sit down!

And now summer is starting to wind down here. It has been quite warm during the day, but at night it's been colder than frogs' legs. Of course that don't amount to a hill of Peanuts in the long run, 'cuz Fall is just around the corner and we'll be there before the goats come home.

Ah, Fall. Fall, when the temperatures cool and the winds begin to blow. Of course when the wind blows it often blows the barn door shut. No matter, because everyone knows when one door shuts, another one opens - that is unless the goatmother is having one of her less-than-perceptive, forgot-to-take-my-ginkgo days. Days when she comes in yelling, "Were you born in a barn!?" Why, yes, I was, thank you very much. Nonetheless, we never hold it against her. After all, she is in charge of the Peanuts, and it doesn't pay to look a gift goatmother in the mouth. Sometimes she drops a few and naturally I feel that a Peanut in the hand is worth two on the floor, but I tend not to sweat the small stuff. I find life is simpler when you plow around the stumps. Of course I prefer to stand on the stumps, but that is another matter entirely.

So here my introspection comes to an end. In parting, remember to always revere your Peanuts. Peanuts are 'happy' food and everyone knows you are what you eat. Remember to always keep skunks and bankers (and Alpines) at a distance, and always save a Peanut for a rainy Fall day. See ya' in a fair shake. Sleep tight. Don't let the haybugs bite. And above all, never go skinny dipping with snapping turtles.


Marigold, Oy and out.