it has been a very challenging week. hard. no use looking for better adjectives. just hard. the Alzheimer's person i care for began a hard crash and burn. it was sudden and neither i nor her other caregiver expected it, let alone B herself. falling, frantic searching for unremembered things, almost total loss of coherence, and what seemed like a total urge to Escape. dear her. dear us. so her son was called back from Maine and we'll see today what we all think: is this the moment we have known would come when she can no longer live at home? or does he install an alarm system on her doors to the outside world and hire a third caregiver? So, that.
and then, at 1:10 in the middle of the night, that single Bleeeeaaaaah
Lucky Star. 2 black and white spotted bucks and one red and white doe:
she was the first out. there was confusion because it was night and they don't do well in the dark. Lucky does not clean her, i am wiping away her nose and trying to get all of the milling goats out of there into the yard pen. Lucky goes out to and another is born out there, and another. bringing them in, and yes the first is still breathing. finageling Lucky in and closing the little wooden gate door making her feel trapped. she is uncertain about what is happening and just stares at them, going from one to another. none of the 3 make a sound. they are smaller and much skinny ier than the others so far. they all look so fragile, but the little doe looks hopeless. so i get the light hooked up and sit there in my birth fluid soaked hose dress alternately rubbing them with a towel and holding them to her udder, until they begin to make sounds and she begins to lick them, clean them, taste them, know their scent. by 4 something a.m., little doe is UP!
and by daybreak she is just going. this is her from above
almost there. and then, yes, There. and she figures out what to do. all by herself. as do the little bucks. and later in the day, Lucky is more and more restless, so i decide to let her into the outside pen, back through that little wooden gate door. things seem ok for a while but then there is comotion. when i go around, Ona and Onday have her cornered and are ramming her HARD, taking turns. ramming her into the wood fence. she is not fighting back. i watch, stunned until she goes down to her knees and then run in and do whatever, i don't remember, some yelling, some pushing and pull her out by her collar and return her to her inside pen where the babies are.
i don't know. daughter will come the first of the week. we will think. my guess tho is that we have reached some kind of "critical mass". there are too many goats. too many babies. and the most difficult thing to think is that there are 3 more does to deliver. oh, eee.
and the Monsoon rains have begun. Intense and Huge Electrical Storms, sometimes one on the heels of another and goats DO NOT LIKE BEING WET. they crowd into the guinea hen palace. the uneasiness is Thick. but in between all the above, i have begun stitching a "housecoat"
a thin cotton blouse, shirttails cut off, sleeves, collar and buttons removed. 3 rectangles of tea dyed favorite cotton sheet stitched on and the strips begun to be stitched in place. yesterday some Deb Lacativa cloth arrived in mail. i opened the package right there, sitting at the neighborhood box unit mailbox down the road. i pressed these brilliantly vibrant pieces to my face and breathed them in. they comforted me. fixed me. And this morning all 3 babies have learned to bounce and head butt. oh jeez.
windthread 
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