Country Is. . .

As much as friends and family are able to keep abreast of events at MisFit Farms through these blogs, we recognize the limitations inherent in the process. We are sometimes chastized, "We hear a lot about the dogs, but how are the goats doing?" It seems that the majority of posts reference the dogs, who provide us with more than ample fodder for entertainment. The goats and Bill, the horse, admittedly receive lower billing.

On the other hand, the goats do concentrate most of their energies on the consumption of food and the production of manure. How much can a person write about these two activities without one or the other becoming the kind of fetish that demands professional intervention?

In order to appease the goats so they do not invoke the "fairness doctrine," we put together a little footage of them doing what they do best: eating and producing manure. The choice to use a Tom T. Hall song to accompany the footage seemed like a no-brainer.

I spent a large amount of my childhood at my grandparents' dairy farm. Tom T. Hall is an inextricable character in the time spent with my grandparents, where their milking barn always smelled of a bleach-water, cigarette and ivory soap combination, and where 61 Country played on a small radio 24 hours a day. When my grandmother died, I was in high school. As she headed out to finalize the distribution of my granparents' possessions with her siblings, my mother asked if there was anything of my grandmother's that I particularly wanted. I could think of only one thing: her Tom T. Hall album.

When I told K of my intention to use a Tom T. Hall song for the blog, she giggled and asked, "Will you be using your favorite Tom T. Hall song?"

While I did not use this Tom T. Hall song for this blog, it is worth noting that I like beer. I like goats. While at the liquor store yesterday, I found a magical convergence of both:
. . . and the official "house beer" for MisFit Farm has been found.