Mean people really DO suck........

Well friends, life on and around the ranch is getting difficult. It seems that there are those who would have the Van Goat Ranch go away, disappear, be done away with - you get the idea. Of course, as far as I'm concerned, "those" can just suck it . The Van Goat Ranch doesn't plan on going anywhere. Things are complicated though. Ya see, the Van Goat Ranch while not being located in the city - we're in the county all right - is on a street where the houses are close enough together that some might call it a subdivision. It consists of two streets running parallel to each other and this apparently to some this amounts to the same thing as a residential area. To some of us who live here, it consists of the redneck fucking ghetto. This is the kind of place where the cops are frequently here - last week they were here 3 times - and when the cops show up in this neighborhood, they send 4 or 5 cars - not just 1 or 2. These last three times were because some , uh, gasp...........lesbians have moved into the neighborhood and they're causin a LOT of trouble. That's right folks - trouble right here in river city...and that starts with T and that rhymes with C and that stands for carpet-munchers. I'm sorry....I shouldn't have said that because I got no problems....it's just funny. These girls put down $3000.00 sod in their rental yard - which why would you do that anyway? But they did and they don't want the ghetto kids running all over it and /or perpetrating whatever crimes they've dreamt up in their $3000 yard. Now why this is so GREATLY upset to these people in the hood is absolutely beyond me. Believe me, I had my share of trouble with these fucking people when I moved in this shithole. Kids wouldn't stop riding their fucking bikes through my flower beds and it ended up in a 3 car visit from the police. SO......I have felt their pain.
Anyway, I digress...........the jackholes that live behind me are still pushing their vendetta against my goats. They're still trying to make me get rid of my babies. I got an "official " letter in the mail that could have been written by my six year old, it was so unprofessional. In fact, I fear that I have insulted my six year old and her writing skills by saying such a thing as she is way better than that. They told me that I have violated the zoning regulations by raising a goat herd. Well, I've been through all this before thanks to the pustulating sore on satan's ass that is my neighbor. They have called everyone that they can think of and so far, I have been deemed to be sitting on the right side of the law. I am not running a commercial farm. Now they are trying to say that I have too many goats for this piece of land, even though there is nothing in the zoning regulations that addresses that. Still, I am NOT breeding goats to sell. This is STILL NOT a commercial farm. And those jackholes do not get to make up the rules as they go along. They are threatening to bring this to the attention of the County Attorney. Woooooooo! I am so scared that I have been continually been leaking fecal matter since I got their letter. Well, guess what bitches! I'm going to bring it to his attention first. I do realize that no one in this neighborhood with the exception of 3 or 4 of my neighbors, no one in this county, in this city , in this state, country or internet, would be on my side. I mean, I realize that there aren't too many people in the world who have goats for back yard pets. People just don't care about goats. I didn't until I got them. (for "got" read - "inherited" them.)When properly cared for, goats don't stink. They don't make a lot of noise except at dinner time. Which isn't, let me tell ya, at two in the fucking morning, unlike what many of the damn dogs in this neighborhood seem to think. The goats don't start up their trucks, boats, campers, lawn mowers and blow out noxious fumes all over the place - unlike some inconfuckingsiderate people in this neighborhood. They don't start fires in the backyard and choke everyone within a ten mile radius. They fertilize the hell out of my lawn and make great compost, which if some of these dumb bastards realized, they would be bringing goats in by the truckloads. (Bunch of grass worshipping douchebags. ) My goats are great companions and entertainers, which again, if people knew this, they would be saving a lot of money. But hey - what the fuck do I know? I'm just a stupid redneck with nine happy goats in her backyard minding her own damn business. I hate assholes.

The No Name Post

There are quite a few interesting phenomena on the internet. Look at "Fuck You, Penguin". Every time I read "Fuck You, Penguin" I almost have to have CPR from laughing so hard. To use one of FUP's phrases - "Ho. Lee. Shit." FUP - I don't know who you are, but I am not fucking worthy. (I'm trying though, so watch out!)
Check out Dooce - capable of verbally flattening Jabba the Hut with a single sentence if she so desires. She is as sharp as Twister's horns. I don't really recommend trying to find out how sharp that is. You can be reading one of her posts and then all of the sudden, she just fucking t-bones you with some remark about Mormons or something. Heather - I think you've elevated yourself to "Shit Ass Ho Fuckingbadass." (Of course, it's not like I think you read this. Laughing, just thinking about that. P.S. Shit Ass Ho Fuckingbadass is actually the title she gave to her husband - he's a S.A.H.F. )
Not Afraid to Use it. She cracks me up, she is so damn funny - what is she not afraid to use? Total snark? Baaaaaad words? I personally love her reference to other moms she meets. (Finally - a kindred spirit in the mom department. ) I always feel like I'm Judy Miller when I'm around other moms. (Watch Still Standing on Lifetime channel to get this one.)
Now we come to the gist of this post. It must be said that I have tried to curb my affection for using profanity as I've been assured that nothing says, nee' screams, "I'm loser, white trash" like jestingly calling your friend/co-worker/partner-in-crime 'Beeeyotch'" by a surgeon with whom I frequently work. (Uh - beyotch - that's not even a bad word, is it?) No, I didn't childishly ask him who appointed him chief of the profanity police. Okay! I was tempted - Whatever!! I'm of two minds on that whole thing .(Like I even have one mind.) He asked me if I wanted people to see me as being "that" kind of person. (Huh?) Was I aware of what kind of impression that made on people? (Hopefully the one that says "Don't fuck with me.") Just how serious is this? Do I really care what "these" people think of my vocabulary? You know, maybe he's right. Maybe I shouldn't sort of take pride in the fact that I have certain "Dooce/FUP/NATUI characteristics. Maybe I'm not being an adult. YEAH - RIGHT!!!! Many people/phenomena slide into their day, their blog, your feeds, by getting their snark on. To be honest, where I work , snark makes the day go by more quickly AND enjoyably. I don't think that it means that you look in the dictionary under snark or white trash and it has pictures of me and my co-workers or any of the other people utilizing the humorous qualities afforded by wielding a little (or a lot) of snark. There are entire blogs based on it - take away snark and there's nothing left but a bunch of a's, and's and the's. Do I want my mom to look on my blog and see the word "fuck" looming out at her? Should she really know that I think that a lot of moronic posers on Twitter apparently think their shit doesn't stink but that's okay because a lot people really are on there to establish a pleasant internet countenance? Not really, but I don't think she'd fall apart.(She didn't fall apart when I bumped my head on the sharp corner of a shelf in that shoe store a few years ago.) She would abstain from reading the blog which is what people who are offended by snark and it's bad little word friends should do. I don't think that someone's seriousness about their purpose is necessarily reflected in their vocabulary. Sometimes I scream " Well fuck ME!" and I'm totally serious.

Are You Vacationing this Summer?

You could give a child from New York City a vacation instead of going out of town. Sort of like "taking a trip and never leaving the farm". It's a thought.

(Thanks to Jim Stafford for one of my all time favorite song lyrics from "The Wildwood Weed".)

And this.....just in from Kirtsy! Action..........

Ya gotta love it! Be sure and check out their website

Sometimes a Girl's Gotta Do What a Girl's Gotta Do......

Okay, I"m looking at the bra's and I turned around to discover that Rachel had availed herself of one of the bras at the end of the row. I'm sure she just did that because it was there and the lights were bright in Target. And I'm sure someday she'll forgive me for posting this on my blog some day too.

How to Get From a Reel Mower to an Organic Market in One Day

Okay, so here is what's happening on the ranch. It's been beautiful, no rain - until today! I was going to finish mowing the lawn today and work in the flower beds, but apparently that ain't gonna happen. I am however, the proud new owner of a reel mower - YES! - no gasoline, no oil, just arms and legs! Woo hoo! Just another step toward lightening our ecological footprint. Of course, I do realize that losing about 80 pounds would definitely lighten my footprint, but (snort, snort) all things in good time. Actually, Alex and I went to the Union Street Market Friday and enjoyed a really wonderful organic, vegetarian lunch. We are still enjoying some of the bread we bought too - excellent Ezekiel and whole wheat bread baked by the owners. The Union Street Market is a really amazing place. I found it through Local Harvest and decided I HAD to go there that day. You can place an order for anything they have up to and including any ingredients with which they cook. You can email a grocery list by Wednesday night and Friday you can pick it up - Voila - you have wonderfully fresh, organic food for your tummy. I had the Oven Baked Peanut Butter Tofu , Marinated Kale Greens and a freshly baked whole wheat yeast roll. I started out with a very tasty salad of mixed greens with little grape tomatoes, sprouts, grated beets and carrots and because I couldn't decide, Robbie - one of the owners - brought me both the creamy dill and the blueberry vinaigrette to top it all off. I still can't decide - they're both awesome. Last but not least is the exquisite blueberry sorbet that was so good Alex had to have another dish just to be sure. Robbie and Coleman, the owners immediately made us feel welcome with their warm personalities and a sample of their Kombucha tea. Although it's not for everyone, everyone should at least try it once. Good for the digestion.
All in all, it was totally worth the hour long drive, especially since I got to
cruise back through one of the towns I lived in when I was a kid. Needless to say, that part was a lot more fun for me than it was for my 18 year old. The verdict - I would definitely go back - to eat AND to pick up my groceries. The Van Goats would totally love it.

Can Goats Garden? I Don't Think So.....

Things are looking kind of bleak for the garden this year after a good beginner's attempt at organic vegetable gardening last year. Last year was the ground-breaker (pun intended) for growing our own food instead of just flowers and herbs, and it was so exciting to bring peppers, carrots and tomatoes straight from the garden to the kitchen. I didn't have to worry about what kind of dressing the lettuce might already be wearing because I knew it was naked except for a little bit of dirt and the occasional nibble mark. I want that feeling again (and I want the taste of those vegetables again!) and I've been thinking about it since I picked the last tomato, but now I'm not sure if I'll be able to do the whole gardening thing this year and I'm kinda bummed. I've gardened since I moved into this house in 2006 (okay - there were a few earlier, pitiful attempts prior to 2006) and it has been a source of joy and excellent therapy, but last year's garden moved into a whole 'nother dimension. Let's face it - you cannot dig in the garden after having a hip replacement - anybody will tell you that, up to and including the rabbits that try to eat the lettuce. I saw a man lying on the walkway in front of his house the other day, and I was like," holy shit - dude fell and he can't get up!! Wait! Dude fell and can't get up, so he decided to pass the time until someone finds him weeding the flower bed. Damn - now that's a real man." Then I realized that it could be me lying on the sidewalk weeding the flower bed in the not too distant future. I know the Van Goats would be willing to help me, but they don't know a pansy from a pepper and they'd just eat everything anyway.