Let Sleeping Goats Lie

Yes, I am a bad bad bad blogger, I have been away far too long, and for that, dear readers, my sincere apologies.
I am afraid I have been rather unwell, and in the last few days have slunk around the house in a constant state of nausea and misery, oh how I hate being sick :(

The good news is I am now feeling a little better and in light of the absolutely amazing weather we have been having, I have been spending a great deal of time outdoors.
I have never witnessed a February like this in my life, aside from in Spain as a Child, but that doesn't count! Certainly in England, we were never spoiled with such beautifully sunny and warm days, so it really is quite a treat, and look who are rearing their cheerful heads in approval....



The first daffodils! I am still in awe that we have flowering daffs in February! Ah the promise of spring is in the air!
So, feeling unwell, I parked my sorry ass outside in the sunshine, and whiled away many hour over a cup of tea and a bazillion back issues of Country Living magazine (of which I have too many to count), it has been a very peaceful few days, alas, as always, reality beckons.

I have got horribly behind with my creative pursuits, including swaps, but there is nothing to spur you back into your creative flow quite like receiving some treasures in the post!
This morning I was delighted to receive these beautiful, beautiful little girls...



Oh how special I felt unwrapping these lovelies!
The first is from Wendy in NL, isn't the beading work amazing? I am super envious and must know HOW does she get the beads to lie so perfect like that? My beading is always so wobbly!



I adore the colours of this dotee, and truly appreciate the many hours of loving work that clearly went in to making her, thanks so much Wendy!

The next little beauty is from Dot, how honoured I am to have a Dotee from the Dotee queen herself, I shall treasure her always!
I LOVE the pretty fabric Dot chose, and as with all her dotee's the embellishments are to die for, I really must pick her brains and find out where she gets them, I especially love the little bell at the end of the tail, FankOOoO Dot, you're a star!



Both Wendy and Dot sent me some beautiful beads and trinkets for me to use in future projects, they are both so very very kind, much love and thanks to you both, you really cheered me up with your adorable little dolls!

I am still mid way through the dotee I am making for Queen Dot, now that I am feeling a little better I hope to have it finished soon, and will be sure to post pics here as soon as it is complete, it will of course be an extra special Dotee, being as it is for the Queen of Dotee's! :)

You might well remember me mentioning we had a new home for the goats...
Indeed, they SHOULD have been collected over a week ago, but between Carla and myself we have failed miserably to find a trailer or a car suitable to tow it, so, the goats are still here, also enjoying the sunshine...



It was quite a mistake to not arrange delivery in a more speedy and efficient fashion, because the goats, as if sensing their fate, have suddenly taken to behaving themselves, well, actually "behaving" is perhaps a bit extreme, lets just say they have been a LOT better.

For a start, they seem to have learned their names, and come when called. Which is extremely handy when I am elbow deep in soapy water, washing dishes, and happen to glance out of the window and see the goats meandering down the lane. Now I can bellow at them to come back, from the comfort of my washing antics, and in they trot.

Also, they seem to have a new found respect for the hounds. I am not sure what happened, because Willow previously got rather stubborn about being chased back to his field by the dogs, and Littlefoot refused point blank to budge an inch.
At some point all hell broke loose, resulting in Nala being stabbed in the leg by a well placed horn, and for a while, there seemed to a be a ceasefire, the goats roamed freely once more.

However, I can only assume Nala has since reciprocated with a very nasty bite (though of this I can find no evidence), as Willow now charges back to his field with just a clap of my hands - the signal to Nala to give chase, and is out of sight before the dogs have even had a chance to register what I have asked of them.

So, behaving goats has resulted in much feelings of guilt and anguish over packing them off to Carla's, maybe they can be trained after all? Simon, who threatens to shoot them every time they knock something over or appear at the window, has been plotting and planning several possible ways of containing them on a permanent basis, where as I, cruel cruel woman that I am, have steadfastly refused to co-operate, they WILL be going to Carla, just as soon as we have figured out how to get them there....

Time for the Chop

If you are a man, just turn away now, skip to another lovely blog and come back tomorrow when this one has moved down, trust me, you will be grateful for this advice.

Today it was time for our little Goat friend, Littlefoot, to part with his family jewels. Carla insisted he must have the chop before he could move to his new home, as his new room mate Rollo is also a buck and two bucks makes for much mayhem.
Willow was already castrated when he came to us, but Jo, his previous owner, gave me a full run down of the shocking proceedings, which involved no anaesthetic and a very evil looking clamp, she cried, I almost cried when she told me, and we don't even have balls!
Needless to say, having heard the gruesome details, I was NOT looking forward to subjecting poor Littlefoot to the dreaded chop.

It's funny how animals sense the impending doom. Every single time I have had a tom cat neutered they have gone missing on the morning of the op. Littlefoot seemed too, to have somehow telepathically picked up on the mornings promise of pain and misery, he ran back and forth across the lawn in a frenzy, huge balls swinging behind him, as though enjoying his last moments of life with full tackle.

The vet arrived bright and early, armed with a steel case. Despite the bright blue skies, today was bitterly cold, the grass was crunchy underfoot with a thick layer of sparkling white frost. The vet mumbled something about the conditions not being good, and just as I was about to scarper, lest I be witness, or worse still, a partner in this crime to this ghastly deed, the Vet asked me to grab Littlefoot by the horns and hold him still, my escape plan had been foiled before I had even turned my back.
To my absolute relief, Monsieur Vet pulled NOT a frightening clamp from his case, but a massive syringe, evidently pumped with a suitable anaesthetic. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

A scuffle then ensued as Littlefoot decided he did not want to be held by the horns whilst this stranger hovered with a huge needle pointed at his neck. The vet made no attempt at helping me restrain him with the other hand, and kept waving the needle around, causing me to panic that I was going to be on the receiving end of a lethal dose of Animal meds, that would render me paralysed for god knows how long, then the paranoia took hold. What is this man wasn't even the vet? What if he was some evil criminal who was going to paralyse me then rape me and plunder my home? Where is the bloody clamp he is supposed to have? OMG OMG OMG!
Just as I was about to let out a piercing scream and run for my life, the mystery "is he a vet or not" plunged the syringe into Littlefoot's neck.
I would like to tell you that all paranoid delusions left me there, I mean, I CLEARLY saw the syringe go into Littlefoot's neck.... But Littlefoot wasn't looking sleepy, and my hand was feeling distinctly numb, HE MUST HAVE STABBED ME FIRST WHEN I WASN'T LOOKING! No, I really am just a foOoOOOl.

It was a good few minutes before Littlefoot crashed out. Voila, time for me to make my move back to the house, after all, the goat was out cold, there was no need for an extra pair of hands, au contraire....
It's funny, because when I was a child I wanted to be a vet, today I thank my lucky stars that I had the most horrendous, smelly, maggot eating fool as a Science teacher at school, god forbid I had actually enjoyed Science and been subjected to THIS as a career.

What followed, is really just quite unpleasant. My role as Veterinary Nurse involved me holding Littlefoot's legs akimbo and passing various tools, which were asked for in French. Of course I had no idea what the words for Scalpel, some kind of scissors etc were in French, and the Vet shook his head with obvious disdain and loudly proclaimed my ignorance to be VERY inconvenient as he man handled my goats balls with one hand and clumsily grabbed tools from his tray with the other. All the while, I tried to admire the sky, the tree's, anything but the bloody sight before me, whilst repeating quite abruptly every time my attention was required "Je n'aime pas!" I DON'T LIKE IT!

Willow, who was quite intrigued by all the action, pressed his face into Littlefoot's crotch at the most in-opportune moments.
The whole thing was quite barbaric, though thankfully, I'm sure, nothing as barbaric as what poor Willow must have endured.
There was a moment when Littlefoot seemed to stop breathing, he was quickly lifted to the goat house and rubbed vigorously by the vet before being buried up to his neck in a ton of hay, to keep him warm.

After paying the Vet, and waving him off, I popped back to the operating spot and found two large perfectly formed testicles placed on the stone table. How kind of the vet to leave those for me. What did he suppose I might do with them? Do the French make Pate out of those too?
I didn't want to put them in the bin, since the hounds will happily ransack it should there be any form of meat inside, so I tossed them over the fence, into the ditch, and quite forgot about them.

Later that afternoon, I saw our elderly (age 90) Neighbour strolling by, two balls in hand, he asked "Did Simon lose something?".
I suspect you will forgive me for not providing photos today.
Littlefoot is ok, if a little sore, and the balls, well, who knows, pate anyone?

The Tale of 2 Goats

I am delighted that people are actually reading my blog and have been almost obsessively checking my stats each day!

I received a couple of emails asking about my goats, why are they so naughty? and WHY did Willow appear at my front door? Allow me to explain....

By the time we arrived here, to live, in August, our land had been somewhat neglected in the previous two years, on account of us only being here for a few days or weeks at a time, the brambles had run riot.

We did a little research on how to tackle this problem, and decided we would get some animals to help.
I wanted pigs, I had read that pigs will eat pretty much anything, Simon thought pigs would smell, and we read somewhere that goats like brambles too, so we acquired two goats from a couple in the area who were giving them away (now we know why... LOL). Willow and Littlefoot had arrived.

Simon built a nice fence, which was intended to stop the goats roaming into the small area in front of our house, and would also block them from coming around the lake, they were left with several acres to themselves, and plenty of brambles to munch.

You would think, with several acres of varied land to graze, open fields, woodland and tasty fruit orchards, that our newly acquired pets would be pretty happy with their lot, but no... the goats weren't interested in land, they were only interested in us, and in the proceeding weeks a battle ensued.
Simon built his fence higher and higher in an attempt to contain the goats. Littlefoot is quite small and not very good at jumping/climbing, but Willow is much bigger and scaled a 2m fence without much effort.

Every time the fence got higher, Willow would sneakily find another way around, sometimes jumping or climbing over a fence on to the lane, and then back over a smaller fence into our front garden, leaving a traumatised Littlefoot alone and bleating angrily to join him.

Every morning we would awake to find Willow's menacing face staring at us through the front door or window, almost smirking, it was written all over his face "You won't beat me!".
Goats are, quite honestly, the most stubborn animals, every time we thought we had outwitted them, they found another way, until eventually we gave up, defeated, we allowed them to roam wherever they chose, besides which winter was looming, most of my plants and flowers had died back and there really wasn't much damage they could do.... surely?

If I leave a door open, they stroll right on into the house, and I have found them stood on my dining table, happily munching out of the fruit bowl on many an occasion.
Another time, I spent an entire afternoon collection chestnuts from our tree's, left the overflowing basket in the kitchen, only to return later to find Willow had munched his way through over half, and to add insult to injury, pee'd on the kitchen floor! He could eat as many chestnuts as he wanted from under the tree, but NO, he had to have mine, such is his attitude, I swear, he totally does it on purpose!

More recently, both Willow and Littlefoot decided that in all our 10 acres of land there just wasn't enough tasty food, and that the verges on the lane looked far more inviting to their palate.
One particular morning just before Christmas, a couple we know were driving me back from the village, and as we turned on to our lane, I saw both goats and our entire gang of hens out on the lane, blocking the road and generally being a nuisance.
This couple had never been to my house before, and so didn't know they were my animals, and the driver started loudly complaining about the "Irresponsible owner allowing their animals to roam into the road" Oh the shame! "It could cause an accident, so dangerous!" He spat, I had to admit, in a very small and embarassed voice "um, they're mine", the ground stubbornly refused to open up and swallow me.

For a time, we managed to train our older dog, Nala, to chase them back on to their side of the land. She loved this new job and undertook her new found responsibility with great enthusiasm, sometimes she was a little over zealous and returned with great clumps of goat fur hanging from her mouth. After a while the goats realised their horns were far more dangerous than her teeth, and now they stand their ground while she scuttles around them, trying in vain to chase them away from the house.

Also, there are still brambles EVERYWHERE, the goats, it turns out, are picky eaters, and never eat much of the same thing in one hit, they like a little bit of this and a little bit of that, oh how I wish we got pigs!

There has been many a time that I have wanted to maim or kill those bastard goats, many a time when they have butted me in the ass, trampled over me in an attempt to steal food I am carrying (getting food shopping from car to house in one piece has to be planned with military precision!), muddied my windows trying to get in (seriously), and Simon's lovely fence lays broken and trampled on the ground, they are a real nuisance, but for some weird reason, we still love them!

We discuss the future of the goats on an almost daily basis, come Spring, the building work for the extension (remember I said this house wasn't big enough for a family...) and the goats reeeally will have to be contained. Just HOW we will do that I still do not know. We constantly toy with the idea of re-homing them, but then I see the big woolly bastard outside, play fighting with his little friend, and knocking over my plant pots, and I wonder what French country life would be without them, I think for now, they are here to stay, that's if Simon can resist pointing his gun at them next time they butt him into submission.

It has been wet and gloomy for the last couple of days, so I have busied myself in doors preparing some more dotee dolls for more swap-bot swaps.
I just finished this little darling last night, isn't she cute?

The theme was creativity, so pretty much whatever came to mind. The ART part was a final addition, since Art embodies so much that inspires me, I see art in everything, and it pretty much summed up my creative flow...

I have become vaguely paranoid that I am perhaps extending the boundaries of creativity a little too far with my dotee's, the faces are um, somewhat different to others I have seen, and I realise that the addition of a pair of legs (I didn't have enough beads for a tail - and OMG those legs were a bitch to make) my dotee's are starting to look not much like dotee's at all, I hope my partners like them :/

The Brambled Goat and other things....

In the few months since we arrived in France our family has more than doubled in size with the addition of a few choice animals.

Today when I was sat at the table supping tea, one of our two (very naughty) goats, Willow, appeared at the front door, he was quite a sight!

It seems he had a rather disturbing encounter with some brambles. He is half Angora, so pretty much anything gets knotted into his wooly coat, I tried in vain to remove some of the brambles, but Willow was having none of it, so a Brambled Goat he shall remain until he figures out a way to remove them himself!

We brought 4 cats with us from England, the youngest, Wilfred, who belongs to my youngest daughter, Hazel, was quite taken by rural life and decided that Home encounters were no longer his style, he now lives semi-feral, undoubtedly patrolling various local farms for mice, and returns home occasionally to let us know he is alive and well.

Hazel was none too impressed that The Wilf (as we call him) had upped sticks and left her bereft of a cuddly kitty to suffocate, ooops I mean, snuggle. When we visited some French friends recently and saw the litter of stray kittens that they had been feeding, I wasted no time at all in obtaining one to replace The Wilf.

The day after Christmas this little darling was delivered to us in a wicker basket.

We called her Minnu, since this is the only word she knows, the French say this to their cat's all the time, I think it is a bit like the English version of "Puss", kinda like "here puss, puss, puss!", only in French it's "Minnu, minnu, minnu!".

Anyhoooo, little Minnu had never been handled before and hid under the bed for a couple of days. She has now pretty much settled in and Hazel has wasted no time at all in squeezing her to her chest and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, I just hope this one doesn't decide to revert to being feral!

I joined swap-bot recently, and have really enjoyed all the crafty little projects the swaps I joined have demanded of me.
I just made my first Dottee doll! I had never heard of these before, but it was fun to make and my girls have demanded Dottee doll's for themselves, so I doubt this will be the last one I make.

In case you hadn't guessed, it was a Valentine theme, this little baby is going all the way to Canada, I hate to admit I am rather sad to see it go, I might have to make another for myself, I really hope my swap partner likes it.

I also wanted to share some recent vintage postcard finds.
First up, these two cute lil "Happy New Year" ones, rather fitting given the time of year.

I reeeally do love these old illustrated style postcards, especially ones of childrens and animals, hence I could not resist this next set...

Aren't they cute? This one is my favourite of the four, I just love the little lamb, and the little girl reminds me of Hazel when she was a tot, she had hair just like that.

I have been collecting lots of French vintage postcards lately. I have no idea what I am going to do with them, I am waiting for inspiration to strike....