Two friends and I did just that today. The Falsmouth PA Goat Races is a hoot and a half. First a local band played, then of course there was The Pledge of Allegiance, followed by the Blessing of the Goats. Naturally I was touched by it all. Especially the blessing. I'm such a sentimental type. uh huh.
Then came the goat parade. They dress these goats in lovely outfits. This little lady was too proud to actually parade. That diva.
That's me in the middle with the shit-eatin' silly grin.The goat with us won the Best Dressed Award. She shared it with one other goat but I've forgotten which one that was. Maybe this one below:
He and his owner/handler were pirates of course. Cute. Come to think of it, this dwarf goat is a female, and pregnant.
You could buy raffle tickets too. If you got lucky and your ticket won, then, well, you won yourself a goat. My friends wanted to do that, but since I was driving, and I told them they'd have to walk their prize home, they gave up on that.
I have to admit that the kids were flat-out adorable. This one is as small as a kitten.
But, ya know, they do grow up to be GOATS. Not the kid-kid, but the goat kid. The kid-kid will grow up to be a woman. That's a good thing. Mostly.
The races themselves were the funniest thing. Some goats ran like hell and their handlers fell and were drug down the track and across the finish line on their bellies. I thought it was funny. Maybe the dragees didn't think so. Quite a few goats had the opposite problem. The owner had to drag the goat. One goat bleated and complained and dug her hooves into the track the entire length of the race. We laughed so hard we cried.
There were other things goin' on too. Stick-goat obstacle races, etc. If you hadn't made your own stick-goat, there were rentals available. I'm not kidding. Well, I'm kidding (or lying) about the rental part. They'd lend you a stick-goat. Real generous like.
After we tired (I know you're surprised) of all the goat-going-on's we drove through the woods to the town of Columbia PA.
There we noticed that something big was happening. Crowds of people. Walking. Running. All going to see the grand attraction: The 500-ton generators, which are 70 feet high and 12.5 feet in diameter, being delivered for Three Mile Island Unit 1. That's right folks. We live downwind of TMI.
Anyhoo, these things are being transported over land on a huge carrier that moves 2.5 mph. I don't know why anyone would have to run to catch something going 2.5 mph.
My friends and I are too sophisticated to stare at such stuff, so we just minded our own business: going to the antique store there.
Next year we're going to one of Mule Jumping events in either Arkansas or Missouri. Naturally that will be an over-night trip. Do I know how to live or what?
