...little did I know that I would soon be meeting a fiddle-playin', goat-milkin', urban farmer.
She loaded her new purchase into and on top of a farm vehicle disguised as a demure, suburbanite's station wagon. All that gave her away were the festooning wisps of barn straw. Didi deftly triple-tied the load down with cargo straps while we chatted about hand-made soaps and city chickens.
Here's a secret video captured at great risk, so you can know the truth behind the growing goat-farmers movement in Seattle. The theme, while it's hard to make out from behind the twang, seems to be something along the lines of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie", as applied to "If You Give a City Dweller the Right to Raise Goats":
(You may be startled, as I was by all the racket when Rosie kicks the bucket, but this feature has been rated G and may safely be enjoyed by all but the modern and cynical. Postmoderns might like it, I don't know. I'm not that and I liked it.)
Please check back for uber-moisturizing, goat's milk soap at The Living Room in the near future.
