While we try to ignore the bombs falling in the distance and the earth quaking beneath us, let us travel to my personal little world of joy.

Nina on Saturday. When I let her in she always runs straight to that table. Usually there is already food for her there. In theory I’m supposed to feed her, but in actuality I just unlock the door for her. And change her water, of course.

3B with a mouthful. Is there anything happier than a goat with a mouth full of food? Maybe a Plume with a goat on his back, quite possibly.

The ducklings have grown so big that it scarcely makes sense to call them ducklings. Unfortunately one of them died. The beautiful golden one. Don’t tell me the playground is not life and death.

Mads with a bucketful of leaves. Is there anything happier than a goat with his head in a bucket full of food?

Inside he wasn’t satisfied with the bucket though. He kept rolling it around. So the food would gather in one corner of the bucket. Yes, buckets have corners. Anyway. Finally he just rolled the bucket over completely so the food ended in a pile on the floor. And then he proceeded to eat from that.

I like clouds. Even dark rainclouds. Oh who am I kidding, especially dark rainclouds.

Listen son…

I love when goats put their legs up on things. Especially if those things are me. It always makes me happy. It was one of the first ways that I felt “accepted” by the goats, back when I started going to the playground. Just having Mads put his leg up on my arm. They usually do it to chew on their own feet. Or lick or scratch or whatever. A Plume makes a nice prop to rest the leg on.

That could very well have been a picture of me. But it’s not. It’s a picture of a girl. I am often in that very situation, though. Sitting on the bench, with a couple of kids walking all over me.

I love the way goats bleat like the Simpsons characters yell. With their tongues stuck out in the air, almost vibrating.

It was brought up in the comments whether I speak to the goats in English or Danish. Or French. Incidentally I find it funny that I can never remember whether to spell whether as whether or wether. The funny part being that a wether is a goat. That’s sublimely subliminally funny, don’t you agree? Anyway. I speak Danish to the animals. Sometimes I feel like I have two worlds. The online world which is almost exclusively in English. And for a long time most of my life was in that world. Then there is the real life world which is almost exclusively in Danish, and which has gotten a thankfully larger part to play these days.

My thoughts are one big jumble. Sometimes I think in English, sometimes in Danish. I’m not sure if there is a rule to when I do it respectively. But I’d guess that I think in Danish when I am in social situations where I have to speak Danish too.

Where was I? Yes, the animals. I don’t actually speak a whole lot. In general I don’t talk much. I usually communicate with them by touching them, scratching, stroking etc. But I’m trying to be more vocal. It’s good practice. It’s “safe” to talk to animals. There is no social phobic monster in the back of my head. That is what’s so great about being with animals. They are pure and they are easy. I am used to not talking though. So it takes some effort. The first times I worked at the playground for example, I didn’t say hello to the animals. I’m not sure if that is weird or normal? If I open up the stable and go in to the horses I’d imagine that the normal thing would be to say hello to them? But the natural thing for me is to go up to them and stroke them on their face, say nothing.

Now I’m more comfortable with it, I talk more to them. And I try to talk more to the human people too. They are much more complicated to communicate with, but the rewards are better too. As it is with most things, hard stuff brings greater reward. You appreciate the things you have to fight for more than the things that are handed to you.

Not that I’d mind winning the lottery. If someone wants to hand a million dollars to me, I’d sure appreciate it. I take check and credit card too. FYI.

C’est tout, mes amis. Au revoir. Hils de andre. Sehr gut. Viel danke. Isn’t it kinda funny how many million words we have, while animals get by without. Put an English and a Danish goat together and they’d figure things out. You may say that they don’t have as much to talk about as we do. But then you’re forgetting about the meaning of life. And it’s pretty silly to forget about the meaning of life, don’t you agree?

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 30th, 2006 at 21:32 and is filed under Blogging. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.