Goat Boat

This past November my cousin came for a visit. Being Scandanavian, a visit means you must “help out” in some way. If a task isn’t provided by the host, the visitor feels all at sixes and sevens. The visitor will often desperately look for a way to help, which can often be discomfitting to all — that’s just the way we are.

Fortunately, I had just the task for my intrepid cousin. There was an old aluminum flat-bottomed boat marooned by Isabel across the river near my home. Although retrieving it meant wading in swift moving waist-high water — in the rain — we did it with gusto. A little hosing off and it made the perfect goat-feeding trough. The partitions make it hard for bullies to butt others out of the way for more than their fair share.

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