The Embodiment Of All That Is Cute In Adolescent Goatiness

Cuteness Notes--This goatlette has a variety of cute factors in its favor.

1. A gratuitous parting of the hair at the top--just like my oldest brother's senior picture from the late 80's.
2. Nibbular lips. For nibbling. And for looking cute in photographs.
3. Proportionally skinny, pre-pubescent neck.
4. Ears which appear genuinely excited to be attached to this goatlette. Look at them--they exude goat satisfaction and could probably serve very well as dual-action ladles should the need arise.

Biking Keeps Me Humble

David and I have been biking for exercise since last fall, with a lull during winter while we lived on our fat stores and supplemented any possible loss with hot chocolate, coffee, lots of whipped cream, pies, and ice cream. When the time came to come out of hibernation, we were raring to go.

Ok, ok. David was raring to go, and I was feeling like my muscles were made out of some really gooey pie. Mmmm...piiiiiiiiiiie. Maybe a chocolate pie, with a little caramel drizzled over the top. Mmmmm--No wait! These are post-hibernation legs...better make that a Coconut Cream. Mmmmm...piiiiiiiiiie...

Ahem, where was I? Ah, yes, I have always a bit on the non-muscular side. One of my illustrious nicknames in school was "Pebble" because a girl said that when I flexed my bicep it looked like a pebble was lodged under the skin. And calves? Oh, isn't that sweet that you think all humans have them! No, I had legs perfectly resembling the number eleven, descending from knobbular knees all the way to bony ankles and ski-like feet. With this kind of physical makeup in my past, it even now takes me a while to work up to an endurance level that doesn't leave me wheezing after the first mile. But, David says my calf muscles actually poke out when I'm going up hill now, so I've got to say it's worth it.

The first opportunity for developing my humility was getting passed by an older gentleman who was on foot. Granted, this was in the middle of the "hill of death," as I named it for its steep and punishing grade. On the upside, this was probably a boost to his confidence, and really, I'm just happy to be out here doing good works. Motivational cycler--that's me.

We've just recently increased our distance to between ten and fifteen miles on a new route that takes us through some very pleasant country. There we see horses of varying models, rotund cows, and all kinds of wildflowers this time of year. On the way down a very lovely hill I had my first encounter with a wasp as an adult, and one in which I ended up with more collateral damage than he (you may read about this in the previous post).

This particular exercise in humility happened as I was gaining speed down a big hill about six miles from home. I had trouble stopping while trying to rid myself of the unexpected passenger, who seemed much more calm and collected than I. I was one second away from leaping off the bike while still in motion to rip off my t-shirt and perform a couple of minutes of impromptu Riverdance on it--I did have appropriate sportswear underneath, so it seemed like a plan perfectly suited to being in the middle of nowhere with only the cows to look on me in judgment. But then I saw the couple slowly cycling up the hill to meet me and already looking at me with some amusement at the show of wild antics wherein I steered heroically with one hand while whapping myself on the back with the other. I decided against the disrobing idea.

When I finally opened the bottom of my t-shirt and flapped it to encourage my angry little pal to leave, he flew out and appeared unscathed, a large fellow who was an irate shade of orange. As I and the couple passed each other, I offered an eloquent explanation. "A wasp totally just flew into my t-shirt! He got me four times!" They laughed as they rode by, which was not really the reaction I needed at the moment. Sympathy? Horror? Shock? How about an "are you ok?" or "can we call CareFlite for you?" Well, I lived, as it turned out. Perhaps with a few throbbing spots on my back and neck, and with less dignity than before, but that just meant I had all the less to lose in my next humility lesson.

On Wednesday evening, we again struck out for a little biking adventure, and this time I was wearing a shirt with a small neck opening. Ha, ha! It's like I'm learning or something! We had gone a full two hours of biking, covering about 15 miles of hill and dale. It was a good run, if exhausting. We were almost home but my usual way of getting up on the sidewalk to go through the park was blocked by some teenagers milling around their truck, talking and laughing. I'd have to stop and walk my bike up over the curb, or jump the curb like David had just done. In my weakened mental state, I thought, "Oh, I really don't want to, but I'll just do it!"

This is one of those times where it would have paid dividends to be a weenie. As it was, I gamely got myself ready to face it head on and was so ready to feel that wheel up on that sidewalk. Instead, I didn't quite get the height that one needs to retain dignity, so my bike crashed into the curb, I crashed into the front of my bike while making a lot of sounds like "Ooooof!" "Hhcckk!" and "Unnggh!" and fighting Sir Isaac Newton himself. I'm gonna call it a draw. He's a wily old dude.

Cue the awkward moment of silence where all six teenagers are staring at me as if I had just sprouted antennae from my forehead. Once I found myself to be alive, if currently the object of unwanted onlooker interest, I got back on the bike and attempted to roll on out of there as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the chain was thrown, so after a few more awkward moments, I had to dismount and put the chain back on (I think with David's help at this point).

Cue more awkward moments. I don't know those kids, probably will never see them again, doesn't matter. Amazing how it's still humiliating, despite all of that logic! So, are developed calf muscles really worth it? Yes, indeedy.

Excerpt From The Diary of Winston B. Waspington

Introduction:
This snippet of diary was recently discovered in Rockwall County; exact location unknown.

May 4, 2008

Today I went out for my daily trip to the grocery for my dear Mrs. Waspington, as she requested that I pick up a fresh garden spider needed to complete the insect soup she planned for our dinner. I was happy to oblige, but as I was on my way, my day took a most extraordinary turn.

Without warning, I was struck by a large mammal which was perched on top of a two-wheeled metal device. It must have been traveling at a great speed, and I was barely able to get my bearings after the collision in order to cling to the backside of its neck, which was sweaty, warm, and overall a very disagreeable surface.

Before I had time to even consider how to safely escape, it tried to kill me by crushing me with one of the two long forelegs attached just below its neck. I managed to defend myself with two stings, though the second was interrupted as a second attack by the foreleg caused me to lose my grip and fall inside the large tent covering its thorax.

Once inside this tent, I could see clearly that this was designed to be a trap for such innocent persons as myself. The opening at the top was held open by the rushing wind which sucked in any victims as the creature sped along on the metal device.

Not willing to be eaten alive with poor Mrs. Waspington left alone to protect our nest of youngsters still in their pods, I gathered my courage. This time I gave a mighty jab near the base of its right foreleg where I thought it would be difficult for my attacker to reach me. I underestimated the reach of those giant, mantis-like forelegs, which now attempted to crush me in the tent material.

Narrowly escaping serious injury yet again, I dropped down and over to the other side and clung to a more stable section of material which fit closely to my attacker's body and which spanned across the back of the thorax. Undetected there, I made one more effort to save my life, and stung with all my might, down through the material and into the flesh of my attacker.

At last, my defense had worked! A secret hatch was opened at the bottom of the tent and I was able to fly out! Disoriented, but with all my wings and legs accounted for! Shaken, but alive! When I returned home to the nest, Mrs W. made such a fuss over the incident and would not be satisfied until my wings and legs were each inspected to a millimeter. We each agreed that one could not be too careful when these sort of mammals are around, and that ultimately, the best defense is "sting first, ask questions later."

Garden Crime Report: 5/7/08

Case # 542096

Officer J. Whitlark first noticed heavily nibbled collards and radish tops during a routine watering in the lower West side.

The suspects: Two caterpillars, approximately .75" in length and wearing black running suits were sighted about an aphid's throw from the community at Collard's Crest.

Case Notes:

The two suspects did not appear to trial, and are considered missing. Investigators fear that they are victims of vigilante justice, but no witnesses have come forward.


Case # 542097

Officer J. Whitlark observed the results of vandalism to one Cinnamon Basil structure on the Southern corner of Herb Square. After a shakedown, one Mr. Inchwormpants, of light green color and approximately 11 mm in length was taken into custody for booking. The primary officer on the scene noted that the suspect smelled strongly of basil and seemed disoriented.




Case Notes:

After mug shots and feeler-printing, the suspect escaped during prisoner transfer. Location is currently unknown. The suspect is armed with .77 mm mandibles and considered very dangerous. All basil should use extreme caution if encountering this individual.