#2 FRIDAY & RIDING ON…….TO GOATVILLE

a CHEDDAR MOMENT

It is still Friday. I pause at a friend’s little white house to call on my loaned out goat. My hairy, bearded friend is still expecting (the goat….NOT PAM), as she is VERY GREAT with children…..kids! I make a connection to my former young life and my own story of twins.

The nanny can barely walk under the weight of the LIFE (lives) she bears, and the bag of milk between her legs. At least a gallon or more colostrum rich goat milk bulges like a giant punch ballon. I am so sad for this animal’s suffering and want so desperately to relieve the tightness from the swollen teets. I could milk her to relief from this painful reservoir of milk. I think of a new, and different twist on teaching capacity that involves milking goats and filling a gallon jug….but I can not do anything like this. This is not the prescriptive remedy in order. Waiting to help is sometimes difficult.

Still, I am SOOO excited for what Giselle will bring into the world….very soon! For me, this happy energy causes me to imagine that we are having a baby “shower” for mama goat, outside in the rain with sweet oats, grain, hay. I treat the nannies with sweet rolled molasses oats.

With my road bike as a silver shield, and my Vodka drinking friend, Brian, with a trusty broom handle, as a deterrant from Cheddar, the terrorist turkey, by some miracle the bird does not attack me. He does do a crazy circle dance like Chief Washakee’s posterity doing a Shoshone dance assembly. This must be what restraint looks like for this guard turkey. The cheesy bird, fluffs and pops his feathers like deploying a high alert warning system, or a really LOUD air popcorn popper, but allows me to advance to where the goats are. Who needs ADT when you have a live turkey?!

The twin kids, Silvia and Nicole, born a little more than a month ago are getting SO BIG! They run, jump, climb everywhere as if kickboxing with each other. Their tails still twitch 100 miles and hour as they quickly latch on to their mother to suck. How they can drink anymore is beyond me! Wow! They are about to pop! They have more than doubled in size in little more than a month.

Their mother looks like a waif next to Giselle, the expectant mother goat. I tell my friend Pam, the crash-coarse goat midwife to call me, text me…..to please let me know when the delivery is to occur. I will be near, and on call to respond most quickly. I feel a rush of anticipation, an adrenalin surge like before running a 5K, or like I used to experience when I ran on the ambulance as an EMT.

And then, again, before I know it, I am mounting my bike and advancing the road. Up another long, climbing, Summit County back road. I am winding toward Geary Construction’s Gravel Pit, crawling past farms, cows, homes, and turning my back to hefty dump trucks hauling gravel, and every size rock imaginable. Ha ha….I am ROCK CYCLING!

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About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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