"The envious man grows lean at the success of his neighbor." - Horace

"Get a dog," they said. "You'll love it."

I didn't post last night because by the time I got to last night this cold had what felt like a death grip on my body which made death feel like the preferred outcome. After a lousy night of fitful sleep in my chair (the only way I could breathe) I'm writing this after just finishing breakfast, assuming that this evening will be an encore performance. That and a day filled with must-do items doesn't bode well for life after 5 p.m.

Boer goats are polyestrous animals, meaning the females come into heat every three weeks throughout the year. Dairy goats, the most common type raised in the U.S., come into heat at intervals varying from breed to breed, but only during the spring. A Nubian, for example, will only have three cycles of fertility per year. Miss one of those cycles and you can plan on feeding that goat to no purpose until next spring.

A female goat in heat typically acts differently as well as showing some physical signs. Their tail wags almost constantly (think: flag announcing "I'm ready, good sir."), there's often some discharge, they often get more vocal, and sometimes get testy with other female goats (competition).

While still with Marta Sundae came into heat in mid-January so Marta put her in with one of her bucks for a week. Surprisingly, she showed the signs of heat three weeks later so Marta figured the first breeding didn't take (it happens) and put her in with three amorous bucks for the next cycle. I happened to be over there one day during that second exposure and watched two of the bucks have their way with her. Marta said a doe not in heat wouldn't put up with that attention, and Sundae clearly did not object.

A five month gestation means Sundae should kid either June 20 or July 11, the latter being the much more likely date. Except this is NOT the udder of a doe still 10 weeks from kidding. So I asked Marta to stop by, and yesterday she agreed; we need to plan on June 20. And even with that earlier date it looks like, based on her expanding girth, we should expect at least triplets, with quads not out of the realm of possibility. And that means bottle babies again.

The good news: this time around bottle babies can live in the barn. They'll have the warmth and companionship of the other goats (they're herd animals) and will NOT need diapers. Going out to the barn for a 2 a.m. bottle in June won't be anything like it would have been in January. So it's all good.

This will be yet another learning experience with LOTS of first time tasks and challenging situations. For example, somebody (me) has to shave that rear end a week prior to kidding to reduce the chance for infections and parasites during birthing.
(My mother would faint if she knew I was feeling up a goat's udder and shaving her rear end.)

Speaking of mothers, Pam's is on a roll. This 94-year old mother is positively wired about moving into her new digs at Aurora Pond, the retirement "village" she'll call home in about a month. This comes as a major surprise and equal blessing for her kids who are worried about her safety and well-being. The move requires some serious down-sizing for a woman who has saved almost every picture and trinket from nearly a century of living and who thinks her children value them like she does.
Pam will go back later this month to help her younger brother sort through her stuff. We've agreed that a) we don't have room for any of it, b) we've lived just fine without it so far and can continue to, c) keeping any of it just passes the disposal task on to our kids.
I am MORE than happy to leave this effort up to Pam and her younger brother.

Our younger son Josh is a CHT, Certified Hand Therapist. He manages a clinic and treats patients in downtown Phoenix, most of whom have suffered a traumatic hand injury and need post-op care. His daughter (one of our four grandkids) has remarkable skills for a 13-year old (I think that's her age but I could easily be off a year). This is one of her creations and now hangs in her dad's office.
Pretty cool, eh?

It's easy to spot the dogwood trees on our place because they're loaded with the distinctive white blossoms. Beautiful.

Pam and I both have dr. appointments this afternoon within 15 minutes of each other. It is nice to have two reliable vehicles so we could each get to them easily.

I watched an episode of "What's My Car Worth" in which a Ferrari 250 LM sold at auction for $10.5 million. Does someone actually drive that car? I'd be afraid to lest some idiot run a light or drift out of their lane. They built 32 of them, so it's not like parts can be ordered through NAPA.

OK, it's time for me to get to work. I want to get the irrigation well pump wired in and working, and maybe another garden frame made before it's time to leave for my pacemaker check.
This, then, ends an early edition of another meaningless Vagabond Thoughts post.