Happy New Year?

I mean, y’all. After the past -waves hand around somewhat meaninglessly- years, is it not tempting fate to wish loud and boisterous, full-of-hope Happys regarding 2022?

a hat tip to my mother for sending me this gem

Let it not come to pass

It probably is -I mean, for fucks sake, Betty White died today- but I wish you all the very best anyway.

Today we returned home from West Virginia in time to clean up for New Years Eve at the Kennedy Center. I surprised Tom and the boys with tickets to see John Oliver. We all thought it was terrifically delightful, and we were home by 10. My kind of evening. ;)

I was chagrined to find that even with these heels on:

Jack is taller than me. My god has he grown. It’s remarkable to pause a sec and take in the young man who was once so tiny and dependent but who is now neither, really.

A quick update on the goats, y’all. We found a wonderful vet who came to visit and check them out last Wednesday. We learned a TON about nutrition, how to check for worms and anemia, goat lice, and bovine probiotics. All four goats were vaxxed and had their hooves trimmed, Apple and Jemima had blood drawn for pregnancy tests (we find out for sure early next week; vet thinks they are, in fact, preggers but that if so, they still have another 4-6 weeks or so to go), Lefty was treated for worms and lice as well as given an immune booster (she is still pretty compromised post-listeria), and we changed their feed after learning about male goat susceptibility to stones due to having urethras that are tiny and become increasingly so near the exit. Overall, they looked great, and we’re hoping for two sets of twins! (AND, Lefty has become a real screamer when she sees us. It’s the best.)

Twins may pale in comparison to the unicorn moment we had yesterday morning when instead of butting each other out of the way over one bucket, the angels sang and each goat realized and accepted that each has his/her very own bucket of food, and for just a few moments, all was peaceful in the barn. It’s the little things.

Back in pjs now, I leave you with these gorgeous shots I snapped this week. How lucky we are to have a little slice of paradise. Be well, friends. Keep up the good fight! Mwah!

sunrise

Goats and boosters and December

I got my Covid booster today, y’all, and I am grateful AF. I stuck with Moderna, and my body is again letting me know that it does not like anything about this virus. Hooboy, I do not feel good. I have a blinding headache, some nausea, fatigue, and my arm is sore. Better than my response to Dose 2, same’ish as Dose 1. The pharmacist said that he thinks everyone will need a 4th shot roughly six months after their 3rd. You have to wonder when/if we’ll manage to get this pandemic under control. Thank you anti-vaxxers and conspiracy loons who aren’t doing your part. All the rest of us are thrilled to still be decidedly not back to normal.

And today there was another school shooting! And SCOTUS will probably uphold Mississippi’s abortion ban, thereby overturning Roe! And Lauren Boebert attacked Ilhan Omar with hideous Islamophobia and now Rep Omar received an incredibly gruesome death threat! It goes on and on, but I’ll stop there and switch to some exciting news.

We bought four of the lawnmower goats and absolutely love them. This is Lefty, a sweetie who had listeria and only turned in left circles for a while.

Lefty

And this is Apple, so named because she is extremely aggressive when we give the goats apples as treats. The woman we bought the goats from thinks Apple is pregnant. The father? Stinky Billy!

Apple

This is Jemima, so named because I have always wanted a pet named Jemima. Word on the street is that Jemima is also pregnant (also Billy), and I will tell you that she is really starting to look it.

Jemima

And lastly is Rambo, a dear castrated male.

Rambo

We get to see them again on Friday, and I can’t wait. During our last visit, we started introducing grain and hay to supplement their diet over the winter. They were EXTREMELY excited, and at one point, three of them had their heads crammed into one bucket of grain. Because of this ridiculousness, I went to Tractor Supply and bought four buckets that can be hung over gate rails and also one salt block. At one point, three of them were licking the salt block like it was the most sublime meal in the world, and later, despite each having his/her own grain pail, they continued to butt and play musical chairs with the buckets. They are very amusing.

The thought of baby goats at Christmas (purportedly they are due around Christmas) is almost more than I can bear. What is more darling than a baby goat?

Tomorrow is December 1, and I swear it was just December 1, 2020, but here we are. I am the most joyous, enthused fan of Christmas and started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. It is my hope that I feel totally fine tomorrow so that the boys and I can go get a tree and get busy with our lights and ornaments.

I treasure my boxes of ornaments. Some were Nanny’s, and I am always struck how fragile yet strong they are, what to have lasted all these decades despite being the thinnest sheet of glass. Mom and Dad and Tom’s mom have given us many, too. First home, baby’s first Christmas, one from the Obama presidency, felt enemas (the Fleet’s Enenamen) given to my Dad by a pharma rep one year (Dad was a GI), at least a dozen tributes to New York, souvenirs from trips abroad, treasures crafted by Jack and Oliver’s tiny fingers over their early years, others from Tom’s and my childhoods.

As we hang each ornament, we share its story, its history, its provenance. Some are cheap, one was a gift from Tiffany, some are ugly, many are stunning. They track interests and dates and they allow us to connect in memory and nostalgia. Trimming our tree each year is one of my favorite activities. Here’s to feeling good tomorrow and heading to the tree stand!

And in the meantime, Happy Hanukkah to all celebrating. Chag Sameach!