Belly Up

I kept hearing Marlene Dietrich's throaty, accented voice singing "Belly Up To the Bar, Boys!" in "Destry Rides Again."  (Her role as a cow town saloon keeper was as bad a piece of casting as could be.)  I was still working in the barn when these little freeloaders jumped in the goats' nighttime treat bowl.  I might as well have rung the dinner bell!  They seem to understand they have to leave a little something for the goats or I'd cut off their supply of breakfast goodies.

Pearl has preempted my sock basket, throwing socks out on the floor until she has her nest just right.  I really must take "my" and "mine" from my vocabulary...obviously, everything is "ours," or perhaps "theirs."

Joel and Judy's Fabulous Fourth of July party was outstanding, as it always is; definitely an A-List event.  They provide hamburgers and hot dogs and beer and wine.  Tables groaned with the potluck hors d'oeuvres, side dishes, and desserts.  It was again a case of "belly up to the bar," as many of the guests are local vintners who bring their best to share and show off.  The cooks also dig deep into their recipe sources for new and delicious dishes.  There were many of those smiling faces I may see only once or twice a year, and it's always fun to play catch up.  I fear my reputation precedes me as, during an introduction, it's not uncommon to hear, "Oh, you're the Goat Lady!"  As I told someone yesterday, I'm glad I don't raise pigs.