Milking Muriel on a tressle table on Bruny Island This weekend we celebrated Johanna' s birthday (no. 60) with a family get-together on Bruny Island. It was a time to relax and enjoy each other's company, eat great food (too much!) and enjoy watching the grand-kids hanging out together.
The lead-up was a lot less relaxing - passing on info and advice to our wonderful friends who dished out meals to the pigs, chooks and rabbits in our absence, getting packed (we never did find the tent!), cooking up a storm for the feast to share, as well as juggling the usual day to day stuff.
We had hoped to find a goat-sitter for Muriel - someone to come and chat, and milk her twice daily, but we failed to find anyone up to the challenge. Instead it was decided that Muriel should enjoy the mini-break with us - and luckily my folk's neighbour was delighted to have goat visit for the weekend to deal with his slightly overgrown block. So we loaded her into a vary posh double horse float, packed hay, feed, and milking buckets, and headed off to catch the ferry.
Muriel was a delight - she fitted in immediately, tolerated grotty handed toddlers attempts to 'squeeze' milk out of her, and got stuck into the neighbours weeds with gusto. She spoke only when spoken to - a big sigh of relief from all of us who slept near her and anticipated a sleepless night filled with the calls of a complaining goat.
All in all, I can recommmend travelling with one's goat - great company, and an easy source of milk for your cuppa in the morning.
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