... some days you're the bug.

I hope tomorrow I'm back to being the windshield.

So Mel and I have been talking about handy websites / apps over in her comments on Buzz, and one that I particularly love right now is Remember the Milk.

Remember the Milk just sends you reminders about stuff. Any stuff that you can fit in one line. Just type it in - "trimmer on April 25 at 9 am." "take trash out every Tuesday at 6 pm." "get chimney cleaned on July 1 at 10 am." You tell it how often you want reminders - I have mine emailed to me every day that one is due, at 9 am, then again at the time it's due. I bought the $25/yr pro account to get it hooked up to my iPhone/iPad, so they bleep and pop up a message, too. It's kind of annoying when I'm holding the horse for the trimmer when my phone reminds me to hold the horse for the trimmer - but it's GREAT when I'm doing something else extremely important (reading yall's blogs) on Tuesdays at 6 pm and I've already forgotten to take the trash out.

(The following events are in no way Remember the Milk's fault. I just thought yall might like to know about it, if you are at all as absentminded as me, lord love you if you are.)

Anyway! The last time the little mini goats were in heat was March 1. By the time I realized it, it was too late. I checked with the breeder and they come in every 18-21 days for 1-2 days, so I set a RTM and didn't think about it again. This week I was checking my upcoming tasks and lo and behold, I should take the goats to K on the 18th to get bred. Wait, the 18th is Friday and I'll be at ridecamp. I emailed her and we decided I'd bring the goats today and (hopefully!) pick up pregnant goats on Sunday.

So. About 4 I knocked off painting trim and fed the horse and locked the goats in the goat stall with some alfalfa and fed the dog and fed the cats. Then I found the dog crate and the base of the dog crate and dragged them out by the paddock. I went back in the house and found my wallet and the truck keys. Then I went back out and the chickens screamed bloody murder at me so I fed them. Then I went through the side yard into the people door to the garage and got in the truck. The whole time I was thinking about what to do.

should I put the crate in the truck then carry one goat at a time
or should I crate them and drag the crate to the truck? but I probably can't lift the crate and wedge it into the truck with 100 lbs of goats

Unlock truck.

more like 80 but still 80 lbs of live weight plus crate weight plus it's not that easy to wedge the crate in the backseat of the truck

Hit the garage door opener button.

I don't think I can even lift 80+ lbs of squirming goat crate into the bed of the truck the stupid truck bed is like 4' off the ground ugh

Start the truck.

so I should carry them one at a time? can I hold a 40 lb squirming angry goat and work both gate latches because they're locked in the run-in then I have to get the paddock gate open and closed

Put it in reverse. Roll into the still-half-open garage door.

FUCK!

All goat logistics flee my mind. Pull forward again a foot. Get out. Survey damage. Bottom section of door is seriously dented and off the track. Opener light is flashing angrily.

I push the button again. Door tries to shut. No, stupid! Open! I push the button, then when nothing happens instantaneously I push the button again. Door belatedly tries to open then tries to shut. I sigh, control my emotions, and push the button a fourth time. The door opens, most of the way. I glare at the dangling dented bottom piece of the door and the top of my stupidly tall truck roof. I carefully back up most of the way, get out, glare some more. The door should still clear the truck roof, by like an inch.

I get back in and veerrrry slowwwly back out, waiting for the horrible scraping noise of the formerly unmarred paint job peeling off. Nothing happens! I've escaped the garage!

I push the button. The door obediently closes. The dented panel is off the tracks on the inside, so it crashes into the little kid-safety sensors and sets them off and the opener starts flashing wildly and the door starts to open again. I very calmly press the button, once. The door grinds to a halt, open about 2'. Oh well.

I back up the hill to the paddock. Load the crate. Catch the skittish Missionary, crate her. Catch the super friendly Queen, crate her. Drive 45 minutes to K's house without hitting a single person or inanimate object. Yay me!

We have a lovely visit. She teaches me a little more hands-on stuff about goat conformation and gives me some tips to improve my goat husbandry. (Wifery? Goat ownership skills?) My little ones don't look terrible, but they're not as nice looking as hers - I'll get there though.

I drive home! Again, I fail to hit anything. I stopped along the way - I spent all day thinking about how I need to make a potluck contribution for ridecamp tomorrow. I decided on quiche. All I need from the store is pie crust and half and half.

Maybe ham, but I have bacon, bacon is better than ham. Maybe swiss cheese, but if I use bacon and the mushrooms I already have, I could use the good cheddar I already have, and cheddar > swiss. So all I need is pie crust.

I go buy pie crust. I get back in the truck and get halfway home and remember the damn half and half.

FUCK!

Oh well. I also didn't buy the human electrolytes I want. I have to go out tomorrow first thing in the morning so I'll get the damn half and half then.

I get home. The half-shut garage door taunts me. I push the button and open it. It doesn't look like it opens very far. I spent 5 minutes slowly pulling the truck forward, putting it in park, leaping out, and checking the clearance, then pulling forward another inch. (I am kind of amazed that I remembered to put it in park every time I got out.) Halfway through this I notice the emergency manual door opening cord thing so I yank on that and pull the door open another 3". Sweet! I let go of the cord and the door sags back to where it was. Shit.

I say screw the paint job and drive in to the garage. The truck clears the door by at least an inch. I get out and push the evil button. The opener makes a lot of noise and the door doesn't go up. I push it again and it makes the "door going up" noise and the door doesn't move. Clearly, I have broken or dislocated something by messing with that damn cord. I slap the button again to stop it, sigh, and get my stupid pie crusts and get out of the truck.

Somehow, I roll a critical failure while shutting the truck door and manage to slam the keys in the door so thoroughly that I dented the damn truck key.




Deep breathing.




In the house. Put the stupid pie crust in the freezer. Find the stupid spare key to the stupid hateful truck. Pour a drink. Post about it.

I'm afraid to do anything else at all tonight.