Don't Sophie and Charlotte and Wilson look so cute standing in the door? No, the glass in my door is not very very clean, it is not there anymore. We had a little mishap yesterday, one that I knew everyone would want to know about. I'll be adding this story to my "white trash" memoirs.
Yesterday, I decided to let my goats out of the pen so that they could have a little freedom and browse around on the vegetation in my yard, perhaps do a little bit of hedge trimming and fruit tree pruning along with some fertilizing. Amazing how versatile a goat can be. I'm sure the story is already taking shape in your head. I had to go help Dad on a job in Gillham and, when he came to get me, I jumped in the vehicle paying no attention to the goats grazing in my front yard. Oh, the thought crossed my mind that it would be smart to put them up but I thought "they're just little goats, what kind of trouble could they get into?" So after being on the job for a few hours, I got a call from Taylor who had just arrived home from an upward bound event in Mena.
- "MOM" the voice on the phone said in a panic, "We've got a MAJOR problem",
- "Oh no" I said "what's wrong" You could imagine the thoughts going through my mind
- "OK, Did you know the goats were out?"
- "Yes" I said
- "Well, you know our front door, the glass one?"
- "Yeah??"
- "Well, it's not there anymore"
So, then I had to decide, do I get upset about this? Should I rush home and make a big deal about it or continue on working and deal with it later?
I decided to let it slide. Taylor put the goats back in there pen, I'm sure with a small amount of scolding. Taylor doesn't let anyone get away with mischief...not even me. She also cleaned up the glass (sort of). We figured that Mo, our buck, saw his reflection in the glass and decided to head butt himself. Rodney had been home earlier and said that Mo was really being rambunctious.
So, now I have no glass in the front door and with the way things get fixed around here, it may be that way till next Christmas. But at least I can tell people that my GOATS broke the friken thing. The good things is that the breaking of the door must have scared the poor goat so badly that he and the rest of them ran away from the house and apparently didn't come back. What a mess we would have had if they decided to come on in and make themselves at home. I can see it now, Christmas tree turned upside down and half eaten, little goat poop everywhere, furniture torn to shreds...I shudder at the thought. Yes, I may go down in the bumpkin hall of fame before my life is through. If you know me at all, you'll know that this doesn't bother me in the least.
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