May is the month for visiting a goat farm, especially a goat farm on a monastery. Soon after we arrived last Saturday our monk farmer son, Allen, introduced us to twin kids born two days earlier. He showed Anne and Hiram how to bottle feed them, and I’m not sure who had more fun in the process: the kids, the Iowans or the monk.
When the newborns’ tummies were full, Allen led us into the goat pasture where we watched another pair of twin kids, a couple weeks old, frolic in the sunshine. One minute, the kids are busy grazing. The next minute, their hind quarters twitched and the twitch turns into a spasm that mades them leap into the air, their legs flopping like rag dolls, before they landed and continued snacking as if nothing at all happened.
Their antics had us laughing so hard we couldn’t talk. We’ve spent the last few days trying to perfect our goat frolic imitations without great success. Today I remembered the digital camcorder we brought with us. Anne gave me a crash cinematography course and the battery is charging. If the weather holds and I manage to push the right buttons in the pasture later today, a genuine goat gambol podcast may grace this website in the near future.
A new kid was born while we were in Ohio for two days. Hopefully we’ll meet her today. And this afternoon, Allen wants Hiram to join him at a neighboring farm. He wants his dad to tackle a four hundred pound billy goat and hold him down while Allen trims its hooves. Hiram’s not nearly as excited about the prospect of male bonding time as Allen is. I think the outing has YouTube potential and can’t wait to film the action. Never a dull moment on goat farm in May.
No kidding!
