A Night On the Town

Ah, this giddy social whirl!  I accepted a friend's invitation to join them for dinner, traded bibbies for clean jeans after putting the goats to bed, and slipped across the border into Amador County to the Moose Lodge.  It was "Taco Monday!"  Just being out after dark was an adventure; it happens so rarely.  I had to remind myself to watch out for deer, the same warning I give every visitor who drives at night.  I saw three on the way over, including a buck with an impressive rack, and who knows how many went unseen.  I'd not been to the Lodge before.  I found my friends and was introduced to friends of theirs, fellow Moose.  We all sat together while waiting for our meal and talked about goats.  Some years back I had sold several kids to Tim, never thinking that he'd become addicted.  He has branched out and he and his lady, Kathryn, now have over fifty Kiko meat goats, in addition to the original Alpines from me.  In turn, he had recently sold four Kikos to the couple on my left.  Goats are like peanuts; you can't have just one.  The tacos, when they arrived (served by a cute Kid, as he put it, "almost fourteen"), were huge!  I asked what the Moose do, thinking of charities, parades, etc., and was told, "We eat!"  It seems they have fish fries, prime rib nights, burn-your-own steak barbecues, and the list goes on.  They proved the point, two couples having brought dessert to share:  a pear streusel pie and a home grown-cherry cheesecake.  Home by eight, I waddled up to the door, stuffed to the gills.  It was a good night.