After the reality of my last post (and thanks to all who commented on it ever so eloquently) I thought I'd send you all to sleep with a tale from olden times.My goat story is short and sweet and half forgotten. Once upon a time a brunette and her husband moved to Arizona. They started off in Sedona, but it was a little too commercial for them, so they left the red rocks, rode through the valley of Cottonwood and up into the mining town of Jerome.
In Jerome, the houses were old and seemed about to tumble off the side of the mountain. One twisty road led up to the town and then back down. Chickens ran freely about yards, we had a shower in the rose garden, meals were cooked on wood stoves. Someone gifted me a goat. I woke up one morning and struggled to understand what I was seeing, my goat was giving birth. I hadn't considered it's gender until that very moment, nor the reason I was given the goat.
My goat's name was Luna. I learned how to milk her and make cheese. I also had a dog named Chutney. I was rather boho. I baked bread in a wood stove and sold it to the town. Once I baked a 4 tier wedding cake in an empty house where vines grew through the windows and up the walls of the kitchen.
In retrospect it seems odd I lived in a house that had a corral in the yard and that someone gave me a goat to go in it.
But that's how I rolled until I settled down and became a blogger.
Sue said...
ReplyDeleteListen, woman ... you've got to put this stuff down in some order and write yourself a book! This is great! I'm serious.
S
xo
:-) Damn.
ReplyDelete'Once I baked a 4 tier wedding cake in an empty house where vines grew through the windows and up the walls of the kitchen.'
That's very nice.
That town does not even look American to me.
hi jane,
ReplyDeletei've been to jerome. ha ha. we went to sedona for our 25th wedding anniversary and there is a winery in jerome or near it and we went on a wonderful tasting there. see, we're practically sisters.
~janet
Eat,pray, love,milk a goat.
ReplyDeleteYou are so fascinating and multi-faceted - amazing! Just love this.... as I do goats too. x
ReplyDeleteAh, a woman with a past. Much more interesting than a woman without. Keep the stories coming! Some of us can feel our lives growing smaller and duller, and the once-glorious past (er, well, perhaps not glorious, more chaotic, really) slipping away. We need your stories!
ReplyDeleteYour talents are endless my flower boho blogging friend. A goat - love it! You write so eloquently and I profess there will be a book. Sinead x
ReplyDeleteSee? Told ya!
ReplyDeleteS
xo
I love these little tit bits that you drop so sparingly into our conversations!
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't look too much like a ghost town though!!!! xx
Rural life appears outwardly idyllic.
ReplyDeleteOne can spend an awful lot of time dreaming of taking your goat and heading in search of something else.
xx
And for two and a half years, I lived to the south of you in Sierra Vista. I want to go back to that area and live off the grid up in the Mule mountains.
ReplyDeleteAah, I'll dream on.
A wonderful story!
ReplyDeleteI always loved goats, until once, on a camping trip in Mexico. There was a young boy with a herd of little goats on the beach, where I was sitting, eating from a box of Wheat Thins. One very cute little goat came over to see what I was eating, so I gave him one. Then another came over, then another, and soon I was surrounded by about 30 cute little goats. I quickly ran out of Wheat Thins and the cute little goats got mad. Really mad. Tore the empty box right out of my hands. I was getting pretty worried when finally the boy came over and herded them away. Now I'm a teensy bit leery of cute little goats! karin
Sue, It's fun in bits and pieces, the whole story might be a big yawn. But thanks for your enthusiasm.
ReplyDeleteMarie, Maybe we'll go there instead of Detroit?
Janet, No Way? Soul sistas for sure.
Belinda, That's right. And then some:)
Semi Expat, Another goat lover!
Rachel, And stories I have. More will be told, well edited of course.
Urban Stems, Prophecys from the Irish? Might happen....
Sue:)
Julienne, I love to tell them, never thought I'd have such an interested audience!
Miss P., Ain't that the truth. The grass was always greener for me. Till now.
Karen, Off the grid for real. Think of the pictures you could take then.. But would be have internet? Worrying.
Karin, What a Tennessee Williams like goat story. Actually yours is better than mine!
You're awesome. Would you adopt me?
ReplyDeleteJust when I think "oh I know this one" two things happen:
ReplyDelete1 - your story telling abilities are so damn good that I get completely and delightfully engrossed in the story anyway
2 - you throw in new details and/or anecdotes that I have yet to heard, which is delightful and surprising in itself!
I swear, never a boring moment ... or story for that matter:-)
thanks for the study break!
gg
We used to have goats when I was a girl, and I was chief herder. The young ones bound so beguilingly. Hard to be sad with a goat, the bounciest reality I recall.
ReplyDeleteSara Louise, i adopted you the first time I read your blog and laughed out loud.
ReplyDeleteGerman Girl, Thank you sweetheart,I know no one who delights in me and backs me up the way you do. Now, back to the books!
Mise, Lots of goat lovers out there. When i went to Italy my two wishes were to see capers growing and goats playing. oh and eat my way through the day. All were accomplished.
who wouldn't love an animal that stands on its house. I've always wanted a goat! I will vicariously love yours.
ReplyDeletedamn woman. I am jealous xo
ReplyDelete