Is It Just Vermont People?

We're off to look at another goat this weekend. But here's something interesting from today's Wall Street Journal ...

For every person paralyzed by fear or blissfully in denial, there was another leaping into action to preserve what amounted to the fruits of a lifetime of work.

Carolyn Sloane, a 43-year-old paralegal in Wallingford, Vt., officially marked the end of the bull market by investing in cows. Ms. Sloane has been playing the stock market since 1989, but the rattling of Wall Street, she said, gave her a "desire for hard assets." She recently sold all of her stocks and bailed out of mutual funds, and put part of the money in certificates of deposit. But she also wanted the kind of assets she could see in her own yard, so she bought three cows, two of which were delivered on Sunday.

"This is my commodity play," she told perplexed relatives.

Her plan is to breed the cows, black-and-white Belted Galloways.

"When they have offspring, that's your dividend."

An Update

Feels like forever since I've blogged.

They say dogs become a lot more like their owners over time. This is probably true, unless you own border collies. Then, I suspect, you become a lot more like your dogs over time. Today was very much a Pepper sort of day.

Woke up around 545a, giving myself time to take a shower. Dropped the boys off at school and was in Brattleboro by 730a. Picked up some groceries and bought a couple of new tires to go with the snazzy new windshield I needed to pass inspection. Drove by the feed store on the way out of town and picked up eight bags of pig, chicken and goat feed.

Home by 930a, at the inspection station by 10a, where I realized ... I didn't have my registration.

Most non-border collie humans would've punted. Gotten it another day. Nope. I ran into Bennington, on the other side of the state, and got the car registered. Stopped by Wal Mart to grab a new pair of jeans and some miscellaneous things -- new oven light, drinks for the kids, light bulbs, etc. Home by noon, plugged away on the day job until 6p, chasing stuff in circles. Fed chickens and got two dozen eggs. They've been on a tear this week.

Ran out with Lisa to get the pig bucket -- pumpkins, corn tortillas, tomatoes and lettuce, a real cornicupia! Fed pigs, fed goats. Back to the day job for a few hours.

Hell, I wish I just had to chase sheep.

It Seems Appropriate

Just had to cut-and-paste this quote from a blog:

"The four verbal nonvirtues are lying, divisiveness, harsh speech, and
senseless speech."

-- The Dalai Lama

New Arrivals

He-baa (the one with horns) is the Alpine; She-baa is the La Mancha.

Wowzers.

Puts my little issues into perspective, no?

August 29, 2008
U.S. Open ’08
Triathlete? Ball Girl? Amputee? All of the Above.
By JOSHUA ROBINSON

After every few dashes across Court 14, Kelly Bruno reached down to her right leg and flicked at something. It was a gesture so slight and so fleeting, she could have been swatting away a bug. It was also the only thing she did that was not in the protocol for a United States Open ball girl — nowhere does it mention popping the pressure valve on a prosthetic leg.

Bruno was born with several defects in her right leg and has been an amputee since she was 6 months old. By 18, she had turned herself into a track star among disabled athletes, with her own sponsorship deals. And as a world-class triathlete and Ironman competitor, she has raced in some of the most grueling events on the planet.

Now, at age 24, Bruno has scaled back her training for three weeks to shuttle back and forth across a courts at the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center to scoop up balls at the net. In a job done correctly only by those who are barely noticed, Bruno has stood out by blending in.
“It’s definitely harder than I expected,” she said, flashing an easy smile. “For me the running is not as tiresome, but I didn’t think standing was going to be so exhausting.”

This coming from a woman who began her journey to the Open after a brutal 0.9-mile swim in jellyfish-laden waters, a 24.9-mile bike ride and a 6.2-mile run at the sun-baked New York City Triathlon in June. John Korff, the triathlon’s organizer and a member of the United States Tennis Association board of directors, suggested that she try out to be a ball girl to give disabled athletes more exposure.

Getting My Goat(s)

Insanely busy day.

Up early this morning to clear out the rabbit shed and make room for goats. Worked in the morning.

Off at lunch to check the school bus schedule, pick up a pig bucket from the market and dicker with Gordon for fresh, local, organic wild blackberries. (My wholesale price is $3.75 for 10 ounces). Worked in the afternoon.

Wrapped up around 530p and headed to Springfield to get the girl La Mancha (Sheba) and boy Alpine (Heba). Brought them home. The border collies are in love with their new friends. The goats, not so much.

First day of school tomorrow. First fruit CSA pickup. Introducing goats to pigs. Blackberry delivery. Pick up some more pine shavings for the goat shed. Fix the pig watering bucket. Continued lots of work on the day job. It'll be a busy one.

False Alarm

No school tomorrow. It starts Wednesday for seventh graders, and Thursday for eighth through 12th graders. So, false alarm.

My boys claim they'll survive the trauma of another day of vacation.

Going to see if we can possibly pick up goats tomorrow.