The world is a garden of earthly delights.

Sent from their new home.

I have no doubt whatsover of their being happy, content, and well cared for.

However, Xopher said that Columbia, recently sheared, didn’t look so well this morning. She is 13. We are going to lose her (or somebody) before long, and it will leave the herd rather thin. It would have been cheery to have a baby running around. It’s a pain that we have to wait a whole year for another. Maybe longer – Annie is only a year and looks too small for motherhood. Though it’s early days; she’s daily growin’.

Today after a normal feeding time, Columbia walked outside and just stood in the pasture, staring at the road, as you see here.

Zowie (foreground, turning to look at me) followed shortly thereafter. She stood a ways back and stopped, just looking at her mom from a short distance. Just keeping an eye. Just making sure she was OK. Because it was kind of unusual. And Zowie would surely rather be eating hay or drinking water or licking salt or grazing a bit, rather than doing nothing, but mom was acting strange, so maybe best to just keep an eye in case she needed anything.

They love each other so much.

I hope Columbia’s OK and was just enjoying the rare sunshine on her back.

Ramona, come closer, shut softly your watery eyes…

Annie literally on top of her Mom at the Fair.

I put electric netting fence around my garden. The bunnies go right through it. But bright side at all times – it keeps the goats out, so I can let them graze semi-attended.

Annie shows us what a big girl she is. Aunt Zowie is watching too.

What a thrill and a relief. She only caused me a day of stress. Now we don’t have to spend the first half of May afraid to go too far anywhere not knowing when she might drop. I totally screwed up in remembering when we had dropped her off for breeding and when she was going to be due. We should have known when we did hooves on Saturday and saw her vulva protruding.

Annie is very advanced for her tender age. On her first day she had mastered not only nursing, but capering and peeing too. And running away, so I knew she’d be ready to mingle with the rest of the herd without getting hurt.

Beatrice loves sniffing her. “Ah I love the smell of kid in the morning.” Beatrice is her grandgoatmother. However I’m introducing everyone to her as “aunt”, e.g. “Aunt Beatrice,” “Aunt Zowie,” etc. because now we have four generations under the roof and I will get confused with who is whose grandmother.