As a yearly tradition, my family goes down to the valley to pick peaches. Well, Mom, Dad and Jon pick peaches; Alan, Mel and I wait around in the petting zoo, and play with the rabbits or whatever is actually still in the zoo. This year, it was goats. We were a little weary of goats, because sometimes goats bite little fingers. We just picked leaves of the trees and fed them. There were three goats, so we each named one. Mine, with the blue collar, was Ziggy. (Stardust, dont'cha know?) Alan called the red collared one Arnoldio and Mel called the one with no collar Munchie.
We spent a solid two hours with the goats. We fed them, petted them, tried to have a proper merry-go-round ride with them. (One of those old, run-as-fast-as-you-can-and-jump-on-banned-from-every-school-yard-for-the-rest-of-time types.) We got all three goats and the three of us onto it and for a while, too. Then, the owner lady threw in the goat who had escaped, the fourth, who I ended up dubbing 'Todd'. All in all, there were 7 kids on a single merry-go-round. After the three originals went down for a nap, I sat down on the stairs of the slide and Todd came up and put his head on my lap. We tried to get him to go down the slide, but he was wary of the slipperiness.
But that was only the fun part. We had to fit Oma and Opa into the van as well. 8 of us in the van. It was a long drive, too,so we were watching Corner Gas to pass the time. We went through a whole season. I must admit that it wasn't as funny when Oma was doing a dry spit-take every time an intended joke was said, even if it wasn't funny.
Oh, well.
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