The Great Goat Escape

   Okay, I admit, I spent the better part of Monday afternoon in the hammock. Some of the time I was working (really grooving on the laptop and the wireless), but yes, at one point I did surrender to the nap -- as that is what hammocks are for -- and what a lovely nap it was. I dreamt of goats, goats talking in complete sentences and remarkably near by. Strange dreams, yes, and dreams from which I was rudely awakened by a jolting push. There they were all three of them peering at me over the side of the hammock. Cute cute cute.

   Cute, that is, until it was time to get them repenned. Have you ever tried to herd a goat? Probably not so much different than herding a cat, though in my case, in triplicate. Every time I got two of them near the pen gate, the other would dash off and call loudly to them. I believe he or she was saying, "Fools, don't go back in there! In there there is only grass and trees and dandelions to eat, while out here there are dandelions and trees and grass!! Goats live in a perpetual state of Grass-Is-Always-Greener syndrome.


   What has this to do with adoption? Absolutely nothing. Just fill while we wait for our court date. It's hard to not think of every day as fill. We are getting enough done on our ToDo list that we no longer appreciate the extra time to prepare. Really, we could go right now if we needed to. My excellent student teacher takes over next week, so I could leave without any troubles. There are no good times for Jamie to be gone, so now is just as good (or bad) as later.

   In the meantime, we herd goats and deskunk dogs and rearrange household items ad infinitum.
    We are looking forward to the Darrington BlueGrass Festival this weekend. I'm odd -- I know; I listen pretty much exclusively to Classical and Bluegrass.