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You are here: Home / Anything & Everything / sign of the Times

9 Comments

sign of the Times

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Another sign from the universe….speaking to me via this picture on the front page of today’s New York Times.  Those are goats, eating garbage in Cairo.  (You can read that story here.) 

MY story started at BlogHer this summer, when I met a woman named Margaret, who writes a  funny blog called Nanny Goats in Panties.

Don’t ask.   I don’t know.  (It’s not always about goats; but she sometimes posts goat pictures people send her.)

I like Margaret, but I didn’t expect to be contributing anything.  The closest I get to a goat…is buying goat cheese.

Anyway soon after I meet Margaret, I’m in Aspen.  And on my very first day…in the first few hours, we’ve driving around and I see some goats.  IMG_6836

Immediately I think of Margaret and the serendipity of this sighting— the last time I saw a goat personally was at a petting zoo maybe 20 years ago.   So I get out and take some pictures and send one to Margaret and she puts it on her blog and it’s a happy ending.  I’m happy, she’s happy, the goats seem happy too.

So the other day V and I are driving through Pebble Beach, an exclusive community of beautiful homes and golf resorts.   Other than a pet pooch on a leash, the only animal you see is an occasional deer nibbling on one of the golf courses.

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I’m not a wildlife expert but I’m pretty sure this isn’t Bambi.

 

There are hundreds of them.

 

 

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Turns out goats are not only famous for their cheese and being on Margaret’s blog….but also for eating poison oak.  They can clear out a field full of poison oak faster than I can clear out a house full of chocolate.   Which is why they are occasionally bussed in and invited to  dine in Pebble Beach.

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I take pictures for Margaret—write this up last night….and for some odd reason,  I don’t post it—and I go to bed.    When I wake up this morning the first thing I see are goats—-the ones on the front page of the Sunday Times.

I have no clue what it means—but I’m convinced I’ll be seeing more goats— which makes sense if I’m going to the Alps—but my next trip is to Manhattan.

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Comments

  1. Margaret (Nanny Goats) says

    September 20, 2009 at 12:51 pm

    Beware of goats entering your life in weird ways. My blog was never meant to have goats in them (despite the name) and now look what happened. They have this way, this insidious way, in insinuating themselves into your life. Be careful or you’ll have many many more crawling all over your blog.

    Also? Thanks for the shout out, sweetie!

  2. Darryle Pollack says

    September 20, 2009 at 1:53 pm

    If there’s something crawling all over my blog– it better be chocolate—not goats. I never signed up for this….

  3. Jody says

    September 21, 2009 at 7:27 am

    Okay, I’m the voice of FIGURING IT OUT!!! Ya gotta!!!!

    Goats.

    Ummm…..

    they’re stubborn, there’s the Three Billy Goats Gruff, what else????

    okay, I think you’ve probably got something stubborn in your life that
    you’re dealing with. Stubbornly, you will undoutedly deny it. And I
    say, stubbornly, THINK ABOUT IT.

  4. Marla Wentner says

    September 21, 2009 at 10:09 am

    And sometimes a goat is just a goat!

  5. Darryle Pollack says

    September 21, 2009 at 11:53 am

    So either this is the key that will unlock the most stubborn mystery of my life—or else a goat is just a goat. Thanks a lot —now I’m more confused than before. LOL.

  6. Maureen@IslandRoar says

    September 21, 2009 at 4:50 pm

    Interesting; I did not know goats ate poison oak.
    The universe is definitely trying to tell you something…

  7. Darryle Pollack says

    September 21, 2009 at 5:45 pm

    I always listen to the universe but this time I’m stumped—Maybe I’m supposed to be eating poison oak– instead of chocolate??

  8. Stacy Steele says

    September 28, 2009 at 9:39 pm

    Kelly knew exactly what the goats were doing. Not surprised at all!

  9. Darryle Pollack says

    September 28, 2009 at 10:21 pm

    I guess they really did a job on the poison oak— I went by again, and the goats are gone.

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