Goats

July 31, 2009

Tomorrow morning, at an hour when everything good and natural in the world should be ASLEEP, we’re heading for the airport to go on a little family vacation to Oregon. My (rather distant) family has a farm outside of Salem, where the good ol’ Geers settled after trudging endless miles on the Oregon Trail.  So it’s, like, historic and all.  Pretty cool.

My parents are turning mumble-ty this year, and wanted to celebrate with an Oregon trip, so my sister and her family are also heading up, and we’re all staying in a rented log cabin next to a creek where hopefully we can skip rocks and float leaf boats.  Then we’ll visit the farm, including matriarch Vesper and Farm Madame Erika, who will undoubtedly seize the children and put them straight to work collecting eggs and picking basil from the garden. 

The farm has special meaning to me, because I visited several times with my grandmother as a youngster, and then many times again when we lived in the Northwest.  The first time I met Erika about seven years ago, she shook my hand and said, “Here, hold this goat.  I’ve got to take its temperature with this anal thermometer.”  It may have been the single best introduction of my life.

I can’t wait to see what she’s got in store for the kids.

Be back Wednesday…

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One Response to “Goats”

  1. Beth H. Says:

    Wow! I did not know this bit of your family trivia. Can’t wait to hear more & see pics!


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