Paul Revere by Cyrus Dallin, North End, Boston

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Sunday, April 30, 2023

 


To my P.E. Readers:


I was busy with family and with my volunteer work at the goat farm. 


I’ll be back Monday.  


Stay safe. 


S.K.

5 comments:

Mike said...

I could use some goats right now to do some grazing in my backyard.

Anonymous said...

Goat, Yummy, Yummy.... It's reat but i bit too boney

Grey One talks sass said...

GOATS!!!!

It fills me with joy to know when you are away from the blog-o-sphere that you are enjoying the company of goats.

Thank you for the mental breath of uncomplicated air.


(And, I do love a good goat stew. As I sing thanks for the goats sacrifice to feed me I adore the spices and taste.)

Grey One talks sass said...

Also, I'm sorry I said I like to eat the creatures which I would call my friends if I'd been working a goat farm.

My conscious is torn on this issue. Tasty vs morally correct to eat ones friends. I'm still working on it.

Shaw Kenawe said...


Grey One talks sass

I have fallen in love with a number of the does we milk. They are gentle creatures with their own personalities.

As a volunteer, I get to interact with these beautiful creatures; and, in turn, the owners of the farm often pass along some of the products to me from milking: goat milk (of course), yogurt, yogurt drink, and fromage blanc. I also get to keep any eggs the ducks leave in their nests (yes, there are ducks on the farm as well). Duck eggs are devine! They're larger than the average hen's egg, with a huge yolk, and a bit more nutritious than a hen's egg. One of their eggs makes a yummy omelette, especially if I slice up some mushrooms in it.

I live in the city, and working on the goat farm with the does and kids is a splendid relief from city noise and pollution.

I even get to pick dandelions, burdock, and use them in cooking different dishes. (I've always been a forager) -- I lived in a wooded area when my children were young. We had wild asparagus, concord grapes, morel mushrooms, wild mint, lamb's quarters, garlic mustard, purslane, and acres of wild flowers.

When the children grew and left, and Mr. Shaw Kenawe passed, I moved to the city where I was less isolated, (and where I was closer to Mass. General Hosp., I had some serious health issues that the geniuses at MGH solved.).

So the goat farm and all the creatures and plants there are quite a salve for the irritations of city living.