Happy Easter!

Hey! It's me!  Do I look like I'm happy about this?  I ask you ... where is the dignity?  I feel like I'm in a Cadbury commercial.    Anybody got a chocolate egg?  Oy.

HAPPY EASTER!

Do You Want This?

I don't usually get up on my Soap Stump, but this time I think I just have to say something.  A petition has been filed with the FDA and is currently under consideration that would allow artificial sweeteners to be placed in milk and other dairy products "without special labeling to 'promote healthy eating' and boost kid appeal."    Healthy eating???????????  If you are curious (and you should be), click here.

I don't know about you, but I sure don't want them putting anything in my milk I didn't put there myself.  Good grief!  They already put in more than enough added ingredients, particularly if it is a low- or no-fat product.  As a goat I feel I ought to be a spokesperson for milk.  The cows sure aren't going to do it.

At any rate, The White House maintains a "We the People" page where anyone can submit a petition on a matter of concern. According to their rules, a new petition is hidden (the one on this subject can be found here) until it accumulates 150 signatures, indicating that the petitioner has significant general support. The petition then becomes visible on the Open Petitions page.  If a petition gains 100,000 signatures by the end of the month, the White House is obliged to respond to it.  The first link is the only way to get to this petition, presently, to sign it until it has procured the required 150 initial signatures.  The Goatfather started it.  Please, if you don't care about the state of your food supply and health, think of your children and the millions who could be affected if such a thing were to be allowed.  Please  sign.  This is NOT one of those email petitions that pass around and around the Internet and do nothing.  This is a legitimate site and offers us a chance to have our voice heard.


Thank you.  Getting down off Soap Stump now.  Sign!

What Do You Do ...?

... when you don't have anything to say?  What?!  Marigold with nothing to say?  That isn't possible, is it?  Well, I suppose it is.  On occasion.  I've been really busy.  Eating.  And searching for Peanuts.  Well, maybe waiting for Peanuts is a more apt description.  And pondering.  I've been pondering a lot.  Mostly about what to say.

Anyway, the Goatmother and Goatfather recently went out for Chinese food and did not invite me.  However, it got me to thinking about Fortune Cookies.  I'm not sure why.  Perhaps because I'm bored, but anyway, that is what I was thinking about.  And then I began to think wouldn't it be wonderful if you got fortunes in Peanuts?  I mean just think of it.  Crack open that shell and there it is!  A recipe for life.  Or not.  Might depend on whether you eat the Peanut shell and all, but I'm just pointing out that the possibility is there.

'So what kind of fortunes would be good?', I thought to myself.  And myself answered, 'Well things that are relevant to goats, of course, you ninny.'  (Myself tends to get out of line sometimes and I am forced to butt it back into shape.)  So anyway,  first I thought it would be a really good idea to put in a few fortunes that Alpines might find relevant.  These, naturally, would be put into the smallest Peanuts.  This isn't because I'm stingy.  Really.  It is just that Alpines tend to subscribe to the Wal-Mart Principle - quantity instead of quality, and gain by volume.  So here are a few I thought might be good:

1)  Something you lost will soon turn up.  Or not, since if you lost it, I will have found it by now.
2)  Be mischievous and you will not be lonesome.  Instead you will be left completely alone.
3)  Don't ask, don't say.  Everything lies in silence.  So be quiet.
4)  Fame, riches and romance are yours for the asking.  But not Peanuts.  They are for the rest of us.
5)  A friend is a present you give yourself.  So give yourself to yourself and leave the rest of us alone for a change.

And then I thought it might be nice to include a few fortunes the Nubians could benefit from:

1)  You will soon remember who you are and what you were doing.  Maybe.
2)  It takes more than good memory to have good memories.  Either way you are in trouble.
3)  Intelligence is the door to freedom and alert attention is the mother of intelligence.  I am so sorry for your loss.
4)  You will not be alarmed by hats.
5)  When you look down, all you see is dirt, so keep looking up.  But not too far up or you will fall down.

Then there should be at least a few fortunes included for the rest of us.  Things like:

1)  You will have unexpected great good luck.  All the Peanuts will come to you.
2)  There is a true and sincere friendship between you and your friends.  One which causes them to want to give all their Peanuts to you.
3)  Your everlasting patience will be rewarded sooner or later.  You bet your sweet bippy it will.
4)  Something you lost will soon turn up.  Probably that Peanut that fell as a result of the Alpine Picky Snit that has somehow managed to remain spit free and clean.
5)  As the Peanut Jar is emptied, the heart is filled.  And so is the stomach.

Oy So, Grasshopper.

A Hairy Update 2

The Goatmother went to a hairdresser.  Actually, she went to a brand new hairdresser because while she was away her old hairdresser retired.  The nerve of some people.  Anyway, the Goatmother doesn't look like Letterman any more.  Her mood has improved greatly, for which I am exceedingly grateful, and  she actually went out of the house yesterday without a head covering for the very first time in 8 months.  February 7th is an auspicious day, I say.  Her hair is still short, mind you, and her head still gets cold, but, hey, the possibility is there.  And real.  And she doesn't look like Letterman.  Now she looks a little more like Ann Hathaway.  Life is good.

" And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair ." - Khalil Gibran

Okay, well, the wind may have to wait just a bit longer.

A Hairy Update

When the Goatmother first lost her hair, she didn't go completely bald.  Everything fell out except a few strands of gray and she looked like the Crypt Keeper.  Then later, when it finally started to grow back, she looked like Frank Sinatra as an old man.  Well, since we published the New Year's Resolution picture, it has grown.  Some.  And it has become unruly.  Just like us goats.  Un-Rul-EE.  (I am not sure why she says this at all.  I would say it is more like joie de vivre.) 

Anyway, it curls.  It is not a nice curl.  It is Un-Rul-EE.  And it doesn't curl everywhere.  Take for instance the back of her head.  It is flat.  No curl.  Just flat.  So today, the Goatmother decided she might actually try to blow dry her hair using a small rounded brush in an attempt to tame the Un-Rul-EE-ness of her tresses.  Or at least what passes as tresses these days.  And guess what?  She doesn't look like Frank Sinatra as an old man anymore.  Nope.  Now she looks exactly like Letterman.  And no.  She says she is most assuredly NOT posting a picture.  Oy.

“If what you've done is stupid, but it works..then it really isn't all that stupid.” - David Letterman

Or is it???

Demands

Demands are sometimes worth their while.  We are watching the SuperBowl.  THIS barn is now demanding Doritos.  No one can say there isn't power in advertising.  I'm just sayin' ...

Woefully Behind And A Really BIG Mistake.

Well, goat grief.  Here I am.  Finally.  Oy is me.  I am so far behind I don't know whether I have found a new Peanut or forgotten to eat an old one.  No matter.  Still tastes just as good either way.  Well,  unless you count those that have Alpine spit.  Anyway, I have no excuse.  It is, in fact, all the Goatmother's fault.  She's been gone so much I haven't been able to get into the house and no one has bothered to give me a key.  And, of COURSE, no one will give me my own computer in the barn.  Come to think of it, Ella would probably eat it anyway, so maybe it's a good thing.  Who can tell? 

Nonetheless, I am behind.  That is not, by the way, to be taken as a commentary on my looks.  Can I help it if my metabolism is a bit on the slow side?  Though I suppose I could go to Weight Watchers with the Goatmother.  I mean she's managed to lose five more pounds.  Woo and Hoo.  They probably wouldn't consider letting a goat in anyway.

Now then.  Since I obviously have access to the computer, I shall regale you with a tale of woe.  Although, from my perspective I don't really see it as all that woesome since one of my least favorite Alpines (did I say that?) got into trouble over it.  To be sure it certainly wasn't something I'd ever consider doing though.

So here's what happened.  The Goatmother came out to the barn.  She cleaned up the boys' side and gave them some Peanuts before letting us out because, let's face it, that's practically the only way either of them is going to even get near a Peanut.  Watson, the brown-noser, went about his usual 'follow-the-Goatmother-around-look-cute-and-stick-your-nose-in-her-pocket routine, and Peanut stood on the trimming stand stealthily awaiting the off chance that Watson would walk by so he could butt him.

The Goatmother finished up with the boys and then opened the gate to our side.  Being the most attentive and on the ball of the group, I was first to dash out.  Besides there are two gates and I'm the only one of the girls short enough to fit under the top.  So when the Goatmother walked in, Ella was standing on the wooden spool.  Now Ella isn't normally standing on the wooden spool in the morning, but this particular morning I think her nose may have been more out of joint than usual, which wouldnt' have had anything to do with me.  At least if it did, I'm not admitting it. 

So the Goatmother went about her business of tidying up the premises, making sure the mineral feeder had minerals in it, getting new water, and generally just performing all the morning maid duties.  No chocolate on the pillows though, but I digress.  The last thing on the list is to hand out Peanuts to us.  The girls.  The most deserving.  Well, at least some of us are deserving.  And the line up goes like this.  Ella marches in and butts Peanut off the stand so she can take it over, thus placing herself higher than anyone else and more likely (she thinks) to get the most Peanuts.  Boo stands to the outside lifting her head in anticipation.  She only lifts her head because everything else on Boo is pretty much stationary.  And me, I say 'the hay' with all that pussyfooting around and jostling for position, and go straight for the middle with my feet on the gate that goes into the holiest of holies, the inner sanctum of the barn, from whence the Goatmother will administer the goods.  My mama didn't raise no fool.

Anyway, this morning went much like every morning.  The Goatmother offered Ella a Peanut and Ella, because her nose was already out of joint from 'whatever', got an attack of the Picky Snits and spit it out on the floor.  She gave one to me, and I can tell you, I took it.  Remember that thing about my mama?  I'm just sayin'...  Then she offered one to Boo who took it after clamping on with only her lips because if you are Nubian you have to determine, first, that anything entering your mouth is, in fact, not a fly or something equally objectionable even though it smells like a Peanut.  One never knows.  Flies can be tricksy. 

When it was all said and done, Ella was told 'you have one more chance', which she, unwisely did not take, and literally spit on that chance.  Boo had decided tricksy flies were at work and refused to take anymore.  I got ALL the rest of the Peanuts.  Perseverance and unscrupulousness wins out over picayunishness and feeble-mindedness every time. 

Of course no one with any sense will pick up a Peanut that has spit on it.  Not even Watson.  So the Goatmother opened the gate, stepped in, and bent down to pick up the remnants of the wasteful Picky Snit.  That's when it happened.  'What happened?', you ask.  Geeze. Did you get so caught up in the inner workings of the barn you forgot?  Remember the really BIG mistake?  Yeah.  That.  The Goatmother bent down and Ella, still on the stand, bent down and went head to head with the Goatmother.  Wham.  You could have heard a pin drop.  The Goatmother raised her head, shook it, and that's when the yelling and finger shaking began.  Trust me, the rest of us left.  Chuckling under our breath, mind you, but we left.  I would not want to have been on the receiving end of that lecture.  But I have to admit, it couldn't have happened to a more deserving goat.    I suppose perhaps there is some justice in life after all.

So there you have it.  I know you were all probably thinking something had happened to the Goatmother since I hadn't been on here in so long.  Not to worry.   She's one tough broad.  Especially her head.