The goats are gone, as of Tuesday. We are not, alas, going to eat them after all. Someone offered us filthy lucre and Chris, who would have had to do most of the work, accepted the offer with joy. The nice thing about having them gone is that it's much easier to walk around in our little patch of woods. It wasn't much fun having Little Goat always tasting my clothes and trying to butt the Spawn to the ground.
One of the things that was uncovered by their work of eating the thrice-blasted blackberry was a nice tree trunk. Well, two actually, both old enough to have the bark mostly gone, but not old enough to have started to completely dissolve into the ground. Watching the Spawn encounter those has been fun. She's starting to think maybe climbing around on them could be fun now that getting knocked off isn't such a strong possibility.
I am reminded of the large tree trunk I loved when I was a kid, somewhat older than the Spawn is now. It was a larger one, but then, I was larger too. That tree was a ship and a castle and a mountain. It was a marvelous place to hide out and to watch the world go by. Last time I visited the paternal parental unit, I saw that trunk again and was amazed at how small it was. In my memory it will always be almost as tall as me and completely wonderful. I hope the Spawn has such a thing in her future.