If you haven'[t read my last blog, please click here to read it first. Or let me sum things up for you: I really wanted goats for my birthday. I mean really really. Mostly because I like to pretend I’m a farmer. Also because goats are wonderful.
For my birthday The Pastor brought home a gift. It was an envelope and a very small package. The envelope contained a card, and the package contained a small amount of goat cheese. I looked at The Pastor suspiciously. “This is not a goat.” I accused.
The Pastor smiled sweetly at me. “It’s part of a goat!” he encouraged.
“No,” I countered “it is not part of a goat. It is an excretion from a goat. That would be like me handing you a poopy diaper and saying ‘Here’s a baby!'”
The Pastor sighed. “Snarky, I told you. You can get goats once you sell all of the pigs.”
We are raising pigs this summer. We take payment for the pigs before we raise them so that we can afford to raise them. That way we can really spoil the pigs and our friends get lovely pasture raised pork. Also, by “we” I mean “me”. Also, I had not sold all of the pigs yet.
“But what if I don’t sell all of the pigs?!” I wailed. “What if I only sell some of the pigs?! What if I sell a few of the pigs and we raise them and everyone’s happy except me because I never get my goats and I have to be some miserable goatless lady FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!? Then what? WHAT WILL YOU DO THEN?!”
The Pastor gave me a really tired look. He was probably thinking about how sad it would be if I didn’t have goats. He was probably thinking about how pathetic our lives would be without goats. He was probably thinking about how the fanciness would just drain from our lives unless I got goats in the near future. He was absolutely not thinking that I was being a bit dramatic…yet again.
“Fine.” he sighed. “You can go pick out some goats. Just make sure they are close by, not too expensive, and healthy.”
I was happy again. The first thing I did was to scour the internet in search of my goats. The internet was less than helpful. There were no inexpensive healthy goats nearby. There were lots of super expensive goats far away. There were also a few inexpensive sick goats nearby, and a handful of crazy expensive healthy goats that weren’t too far away. More importantly, the more I looked at all of these goats, the more certain I was that none of these goats were my goats. This was a problem.
I decided to place an ad. I placed an “In search of fancy goats” ad. I was surprised at the number of responses I received. People would send me an email saying “I have your fancy goats!” Then I would ask some questions about these fancy, healthy, inexpensive, nearby goats. This is when I learned that there are a lot of goat owners out there with a common fashion problem.
Their pants were all on fire.
You see, when I set my mind on something, I first research the heck out of it. When I decided I needed goats, I found out the difference between fancy goats and non fancy goats. I found out all the signs of non healthy goats. I became the worlds foremost expert on theoretical fancy goat ownership. Also, I have owned goats in the past so I have practical experience on my side.
Depressed at the lack of qualified goats in my area, I decided to go work in my garden. I dug and weeded and mulched for a couple of hours. Then, suddenly, I had a strong urge to go look one more time. I’m pretty sure it was the voice of God telling me to look because I know how important it is to Him that I am a fancy farmer lady. Now, I don’t always listen to the voice of God very well, but since goats were involved I decided to give it one more shot. I looked on the internet and staring back at me were my goats. I knew they were my goats the moment I saw them. They were so beautiful, and while they weren’t wearing toenail polish, tutus, or tiaras, I knew that they were fancy on the inside. They just needed me to supply the accessories to bring out their full fanciness.
Now all I had to do was to convince the current fancy goat owner and The Pastor that these were my fancy goats.
First I contacted the current goat owners. I asked a few questions that I already knew the answers to. It turned out that these people’s pants were not even a little bit smokey. Honest goat owners! It was a miracle! I told them that I would take the goats.
Next came The Pastor. You see, the only problem here was that while the goats were healthy, inexpensive, and incredibly fancy, they were not near by. They were not even a little nearby. My fancy goats were impossibly far away. I spoke to The Pastor very sweetly, emphasizing the incredible fanciness of the goats and reminding him about how nice it would be to not hear me whine about fancy goats anymore.
He was quick to sign on after the last part. “Well, we can’t pick them up today. It would be midnight before we got there. Just have them hold the goats until Sunday afternoon.”
Sunday afternoon was two whole days away. I wasn’t sure I could wait that long. I was not sure that someone would hold onto goats that they could obviously sell that day. I was also not sure what the problem was with picking up fancy goats at midnight.
Hmmmm…. I thought. How do I get these total strangers to hold onto my goats for two days? I know! I’ll send them a copy of my Birthday Goats blog when I ask them! That way they will see how much I need these goats and how fancy I will make them! Who could resist that?
I hit send, feeling great…for about three minutes. Then I started to worry.
What if they don’t like my blog? There are people out there that don’t like it. What if these people are some of the people who don’t get me? What if there is something in my blog that makes it look like I would not be a great new owner for these goats? What if they don’t think I’m a fancy enough farmer for these fancy goats? What if they just don’t like me? What if instead of giving me the right address, they just sold my goats to someone else and gave me the wrong address because they think I’m weird and scary?
Yes, the inside of my head is a busy place.
On Sunday we followed Siri’s directions to the address they had given us. We pulled into the driveway to find a lovely family waiting for us, fancy goats in hand. I was completely happy/relieved. The goats were every bit as fancy as I had hoped and nobody thought I was weird and scary. To top it all off, when we got out of the car, the lovely couple said “We just loved the blog you sent us! You know, you should be a writer!”
And with those words, the cherry was put on the top of what will from here on be known as The Best Day of My Life (except for the days I met The Pastor and gave birth to my children).
So now I am happy. I have fancy chickens and fancy goats. I am content. There is nothing left to want. Except… do you think sheep or cows would be fancier?
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