Two of my personality flaws were on grand display: a desire to try and please everyone and the inability or unwillingness to juggle.
AA is starting in a new cub scout pack this Fall and it is a brand new pack. So we had a "getting to know you" picnic. Because I was working out of town and R. didn't have any work flexibility that day, it became one of those events in which our entire family was scrambling around and we just hoped we would all arrive at the same place near the same time and with all our people and the stuff we were supposed to bring.
Well, we pretty much all arrived at the same place at about the same time.
I had prepared typical picnic clothes to change into, but had left them at home; so I donned my dress shirt, slacks and shoes. We forgot the water bottles we were supposed to bring for a fun project the kids were going to do. We brought our dessert and the soft drink for our family - except that the soft drink was a warm 2 litre and there were no cups or ice. I had to leave -mid-picnic- to go buy cool bottled waters.
We made it through the meeting but my pre-game stress level was so high that I did a crummy job of mixing.
Then it happened.
For whom the ringtone tolls
We received a sudden cell call from Oregon and the evening went into frenzy mode . . . it was almost as if you could hear the striking trills of the theme music from the shower scene in "Psycho".
R.'s parents were on vacation in Oregon and Seattle and had called her to let her know that our goats were out of their pen. What's more, they had left off grazing in our yard and had moved on to the only next door neighbors we have - R.'s brother's home.
The story was that he was chasing them around and had been unable to get them back in their pen. I could picture him in under the duress of panic - waving his hands and shouting "No! No! not my begonias! Not the crepe myrtles!"
AA and I headed out in my car, meanwhile I called on my cell to try and let them know that help was on the way. Now you must know that while R. consented to my little "goat project" - it had been with some reluctance and it was understood that there was an "I told you so" held in reserve, should things get ugly.
My sister-in-law and next door neighbor was obvious in her distaste for the idea. When I had told her of my plans her face had borne a distinct "there goes the neighborhood" look.
What ever possessed you?
As I spoke with said sister-in-law on the phone, the details she laid out were sketchy. There were tales of goat-droppings in the driveway and something about the goats trying to get into the house and butting the glass door. "What ever possessed you to get goats?!" she said, as I pictured her standing amid a heap of rubble and the goats nearby, munching down the last remnants of what had once been her peaceful home.
I tried to inject calm into the situation by suggesting solutions "if you can just rattle some food in a cup, they will come to you" I offered. Over and over I offered my sincere apologies and assured them that I would be home soon.
I hung up and tried to prepare AA for the loss of Floyd and Thunder. My sister's husband had mentioned lately that he would like a couple goats. Perhaps he would take them off our hands.
It was dusk when we arrived home - happily the house next door was still standing.
I began barking orders like John Wayne, dispatching AA to grab some meal in a cup and shake it while I tried to figure out the escape route they had taken.
AA quickly returned with the cup at which time the two goats came barreling around the Leland Cypress trees next to the trail to next door. Their bellies bulged as if they had each consumed a Goodyear spare tire. Meanwhile, I had discovered that they had pushed the wiring lose at the back of their pen.
Repairing the breach
As darkness fell, I grabbed a hammer and some materials to repair the breach. Haunted by recent tales of a friends granddaughter who was bitten by a copperhead while feeding their dogs at night - I made my way into the woods to the back of the pen.
The pen was fairly secured by the time R. and Ab. made it home and all seemed calm.
AA and I donned our head lights and headed through the woods to the neighbor's house to try and clean up.
I still had on my dress clothes - hardly Mr. Greenjeans.
We only found one scatter of droppings which we quickly swept up. My brother-in-law came out and talked awhile. Surprisingly, he was quite calm, they had only nibbled a few flowers and had mostly spent their time in his clover.
Apparently some of the "panic" was a ruse targeted at inciting my natural guilt tendencies.
So we still have the goats. After their great raid I think they may have ruminated with a little too much a sense of satisfaction.
It was one of those days that I was glad to say good-bye to. I don't know that I learned anything from it . . . except this:
I'm reading Francis Chan's book about the Holy Spirit called, The Forgotten God, and have been prompted to acknowledge and be more aware of the Spirit's involvement and leading in each moment of my day. So on this day, I had prayed something to the effect of asking God to help me see Him in whatever I encountered that day.
Throughout the evening I had felt frustrated and had sneaked in some frustrated snatches of prayer here and there, but near the end I thought about that earlier request and realized that the Holy Spirit had a purpose in all those little frustrating details of the day.
Perhaps His purpose was just to point out my weaknesses and the need to just rely on Him with every emotion and reaction.
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