>Do you remember those essays you had to write at the start of the school year. “What I did this summer.”
because this is going to be a bit like that.
This is “What I learned this weekend”
- It is very easy to tell when one’s goaty girls are in season. Particularly if there’s a studly younger man recently moved in next door.
There is much bawling of goaty love songs and wagging of the tail and refusal to move more than five feet away from the point in closest proximity to the object of lustful caprine affections.
We went through all this 6 weeks ago and 3 weeks ago and … yup… doesn’t take a genius to figure out that we were in for another noisy weekend.
So basically after another 2 days of this performance and calling her a tart at regular intervals, I caved. I figured nothing could be more annoying than the racket she was making. This may have been a major error of judgement on my part.
There was a brief flurry of matchmaking activity and then Brenda from next door led the boy across to my place. Contrary to a previous suggestion, I did NOT make a wedding quilt for Rosie’s deflowering. This was strictly a one night stand.
I now know why they didn’t suggest Rosie having a vacation Chez Pete.
Billys with a nubile nanny in the vicinity are particularly smelly
and possessing of enormous stamina
and a vocal range that would do a ullulating bedouin proud
and the goat paddock is directly behind my house.
So Felicity, David and I are now in possession of altogether too intimate a knowledge of things of a goatly reproductive nature.
Have you ever heard the Goon Show? Think of Mr Crun in pursuit of Min.
- I learned that goats can feel the pangs of jealousy. Ms. Evelyn, a mature goatly lady – and my Robbyn’s mama – who lives next door, didn’t want to have anything to do with the studly Blackadder until Ms Rosie got him. Once she saw him sashaying over to my place, that all changed. She suddenly realised what a hunk he is. We woke up this morning to find we had an extra doe. Not too bad for an elderly lady. She’d jumped three fences to get to him! Here she is looking a bit Sheepish [!!] at being caught.
- Felicity could operate a goat telephone sex line … her impression of Blackadder in the throes of passion is uncanny.
- That Chris is WRONG in his claim that you never cut yourself with a properly sharpened knife. Big sharp carving knife means big hole in finger that probably [ nay definitely ] should’ve been stitched… but I managed not to bleed in the risotto. One point for style. Minus several thousand for clumsiness.
- see #2 above… Felicity is very good in any situation involving blood and bandaids.
- Felicity made a new friend
- despite the injured digit, I also discovered today that:
- making silk paper is great fun [ Felicity’s is the green and mine therefore is the bluey purple ]
It was also pretty spiffy to discover that Felicity shares my opinion of Purl’s Palace at Daylesford.
Damage to the plastic? One bag of vintage kimono silks each
one small baggy each of silk tops for more paper making
a pair of Brittanys for felicity