Watch out where you step!

Warm, pungent odors waft on the gentle breeze as we roost on the firm, splintered bleachers anxiously watching and anticipating the best for the pint-sized goat herders. In other words, I'm going to the local 4-H Fair to watch some kids and children in the goat show. I'm sure I will have "fond" memories of times when my own children were showing goats. There is nothing like being sure that goat is clean in the ears, between the hooves, and, yes, on the behind. I don't ever remember the children cleaning that area. Who could forget the milker, Honey Bunch? She produced twins every year, just enough so the three of mine could each have a goat. So today I arrive at the fair, no goats to wash, no white clothes to iron, no nails to trim, no responsibilities. Ahhh, I think I shall enjoy.