The end of an era

 It's hard to believe that this (now irregular) blog started 18 years ago t next month. The name Goat Rope came from three sources:

*First, when the Spousal Unit and I were on the local volunteer fire department, we went to an auto extrication class led by someone with a hilarious voice. In a mixed class of men and women, he'd often say "Boys--you know what I see here? I see a goat rope." The term may have rodeo roots, but it mostly means a hot mess these days. It stuck.

*Second, when we moved out in the country, we decided to call the place Goat Rope Farm even before it was anything like a farm.

*Third, around 19 years ago, we became the proud caregivers of Venus, a pregnant Alpine diary goat. Venus was the first of several to grace our farm and torment their human caregivers. On some occasions, they even gave milk for drinking, cheese, yogurt, and soap as produced by said spouse (although they were probably more happy sticking their feet in the milking pail).

Yesterday, that era came to an end. We were down to two old dairy goats who had never given birth or milk (we tried) and were basically walking lawn ornaments that were becoming more of a challenge to manage. We were lucky to find a home for them in our extended family on a farm with kids (the human kind) who love goats.

So the goats are gone...but the goat rope remains.