Wednesday, November 12, 2014

An Apology And So Forth

For all of you who love the goat meat, forgive me for my denigrating it in my post last night. My experience with goat meat happened only once and on Aruba, as a matter of fact, and the tiny ribs of the beast reminded me way too painfully of our puppy (at that time) Pearl. I believe the goat and the dog might have been about the same size and I missed Pearl and her little puppy body with the shiny brindle coat covering her little puppy ribs.
I can't bear to eat lamb either, and this is just the way it is. I am as big a hypocrite as anyone on this earth and I know it but we all have our little quirks and goat and lamb are two of mine.
And yes, meanwhile I eat Bambi. And her mother.
I still say that the Dutch Caribbean is an oxymoron and I seriously doubt you will be able to convince me otherwise. For that, I will not apologize.

I have had my walk and have a few things to do around here before I go to George's celebration of life. They are not calling it a funeral although it is being held at a funeral home. One must do these things and George would certainly want us all to have a good as time as possible, I suppose. How can one know? He himself certainly seemed to have as a life goal the enjoyment of every moment possible. I did not know until I read his obituary today that he had been part of the Peace Corps for two years and also had his doctorate in mathematics. I knew him mostly as being funny and sweet and saving my ass on stage on more than one occasion.


Here we go. Celebrating life even in the face of its ending.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. All the best with that dear we are waiting for winter, it's been a strangely warm couple of days and my body gets confused...

  2. Hubby and I visited Aruba for a day while on a cruise several years ago. Though it's a beautiful island, the 40 m.p.h. 'breeze' was a bit much to handle.
    I, too, refuse to eat goat (though I've never tried it), and the only lamb I ever ate was when my mama fixed it for dinner once when I was about 10. My dad proclaimed that it tasted like the inside of a sheep shed smelled, and since that sounded yucky to me, I joined Dad in a bologna sandwich.
    I hope your celebration of George's life brings a smile to your face (and your heart) today.

  3. Sending love and strength. It's hard to get to that celebrate part. Damn.

  4. I was once on a job interview and she took me out to lunch. When she ordered rabbit, I was horrified and blurted, "Oh, no, not bunny!" I'll never forget that day. And I was not sorry that I said what I did, even though I know we all have different tastes. Isn't it odd where we decide to personally draw the line? When I read about your chickens, I sometimes look at the eggs in my fridge a bit differently. But I won't let myself stop eating them.

  5. I had goat twice as a child at my Grandmother's, a friend of hers had given her some sort of goat stew or something. I liked it, the second time I tried it a few years later, again at my Grandmother's it made me sick. I haven't had any since. Sorry about your friend. Gail

  6. Big Mamabird- Mine too! I wake up and I'm so cold and then by the time I get back from my walk, I'm sweating. I don't know how to dress or what to put on. I change clothes four times a day. It's odd.

    Catrina- Yes! It's very blowy on Aruba. Sometimes I want to buy bologna just to taste it again. I haven't had it in thirty-something years I bet and yet, ate it almost daily as a child. We did have some gentle laughs today, remembering George.

    Denise- Ain't that the truth? Sack cloth and ashes may be highly underrated these days.

    Sylvia- Slowly, I am trying to buy only the least-cruelly raised chickens but I still feel like a big fat American hypocrite.

    Gail- Thank you. I feel so very, very sorrowful for his wife. They were tight and loving. And each other's worlds.

  7. No goats or bambi eaten here. We do eat Charlie the Tuna though!

  8. I can't eat baby anything.
    I tried alligator ribs in NYC though and they were yummy!


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