Woah.

Hello, hello and hello. And sincerest apologies. So summer came and went. Autumn is here. How to explain the absence for a whole season? Um. Well mostly to blame is the lack of internet either in mine or Marco's life. I did it, I finally found a lovely little apartment and moved house. However, that resulted in a long fight with phone companies to get a line connected and thus only in the next couple of weeks will there be internet at my disposal to complement my hearty love of procrastination.

This isn't a real post, not just yet. I thought we'd just warm up with a little goat action.

Eagle vs. Mountain Goat.

Ouch.

Enjoy.

Goat Of The Day

Ok, so this post is pretty much just nicked from my love for you is a stampede of horses, but the goatiness was just too good to refuse. Montreal based artist Brad Woodfin has painted a series of mysterious goats for his latest exhibition: The Returning. The combination of goats AND art together is getting me all jittery with excitement.

Giarra

Le Classique No. 342

Betorz

I'm sitting writing this in a cafe and a stranger just walked past, atonally mumbling some mangled lyrics: Sheep are very boring, goats go to heaven. Too perfect.

Goat Of The Day

This here drawing comes courtesy of my lovely friend, the divine Miss Sophie Hopmeier. She originally passed this goat with a note of enigma in his eyes for publication in BLOCK journal. It floated somewhere near the surface of my memory recently and I new it had to reappear for some I Know My Goat love. Thank you Miss Hopmeier. 

Goat Of The Day

This really does speak for itself: A ridiculous photo of a goat standing in front of some wallpaper. What more could you want in life? Thanks to Catherine's Animals via Lizzy via Tara's Facebook wall. (Yes I am a stalker). Goat! 

Oh No Not The Goat

We sort of fell down a lego wormhole and ended up at The Brick Testament and seeing as how we're on the topic of goats (always) this one in particular got us a little upset:

Judges 13:19
Manoah then took a young goat and sacrificed it on a rock to Yahweh.

Oh noes! Not the goat. 

And Then There Was Tea.

Today I worked all day in my horrible retail job. It is a particularly bad weekend because three events collide: The store in which I work started to install Christmas land, I am horrified that Christmas is starting in September; It is father's day tomorrow which means that the store is promoting familial love as a chance to spend more money and finally, this weekend is the first weekend of Spring. Spring that blossom filled, sun shining season. There is more to this cheeriness than ducklings, signets and bouncing lambs. The other creature that crawls out of hibernation is The Bride (or Bridezillas as they're affectionately known). So after a whole day of preempting elves, recommending ties and avoiding brides I couldn't face a night of doing anything useful and sociable. To this end Marco and I are sitting on the couch watching The Good Life

and fantasizing about growing a house all of our own with organic vegetables and goats milk, wearing hilarious seventies dresses and sporting big hair and walking around saying things like "you let them in Gerry, I must get my gavel" and "I did have one or two adolescent dreams about Duncan Sandys" 

                                       Duncan Sandys

We're also drinking tea, or rather we're trying to drink tea. The first attempt went cold while we were distracted cooking quiche. The second go ended up all over the kitchen floor after Marco reached for the kettle and accidentally threw it across the room and created a momentary flood. The third was aborted when I announced that I may have accidentally put my foot in the cup (no, I don't know how either). The fourth time was perfect. So here we are warm, happy and antisocial full of long awaited tea and lots of chocolate. 

As our evening continues we have discovered that the goat from The Good Life is called Geraldine and thusly we have decided that when we get a he goat called Gus we must also get a she goat and call her Geraldine. 

Hurrah for antisocial Saturday nights.

We Know Our Goat

Good morning, hello and welcome. The time has come and I have given in to having a blog. Not that I was against the idea I just doubted that there was much I could say that needed to be uploaded and archived. And while there still isn't any reason to upload and archive any of my musings I'm sure I can find something to say. The crunch moment came when I was idling through a few of my friends blogs and one of them posted a recipe that I had a smallish part in creating. She linked my name to a blog I am sort of associated with, when I clicked it I realised that I hadn't posted anything since April. This instilled a great amount of shame and I decided it was time. 

Once I'd committed I knew that I wanted my friend Freya to be involved. Freya is one of my bestest friends ever, her and I spend a lot of time coming up with silly ideas over endless pots of tea. Many of these whimsys aren't recorded and float off into the universe never to be remembered and this seems like a good starting point to try and catch them. Mostly she is Marco and I am Polo, although sometimes I am Marco and she is Polo. It mostly depends on which one of us is lost at the time. Marco has a hopeless sense of direction so we've resorted to searching for each other by yelling, screaming, whispering or yodeling Marco and Polo until we're safely in each other's arms. 

Marco and I have lived together in a few different places. A long time ago we met at college and used to spend an awful amount of time visiting each other and making plans for what we'd do when we were to escape. One of those plans was to get a goat called Gus. We did move out, alas we never got a goat, there was a rabbit with an identity crisis for a while, who one day got fed up with our inability to name him and ran away. Despite our lack of caprine friend, goats have always remained part of our repartee. When hunting for a  name for this here blog we came across this very helpful drawing:

And so, we had found a name for our blog. There promises to be no logic to our content, just bits and pieces that we find on our travels.