I don’t know whether it’s the goats or the photography, but looking at pictures of your goats always makes me smile and think the world isn’t such a bad place after all.
No, it’s definitely the goats. They’re expressions and movements are so appealing, you just have to be there and take a picture. It’s just too bad I can’t get their voices as well.
Wasn’t there a picture of Mrs Crown reading the papers somewhere? Did she have to go?
I’m sure your camera has a microphone and can make little videos of the goats. (Come on, don’t be shy, we won’t mock their Scandinavian accent.)
I agree with Hat: I look at the goats, the adorable dogs, the cute hen — not to mention the beautiful teenager — and the incredible backdrop of nature and think: all is right with the world.
Thanks, Mr Crown. Your blog is A Good Thing.
Yes, she had to leave; she was worried her spirit would be washed away down the internet.
My camera doesn’t do anything except take pictures, but I expect someone in the house has an electric car or kitchen blender/phone that makes tiny little videos.
The goats have grown up hearing two languages, so they don’t have funny accents.
Oh, Syttende Mai, how could I have forgotten. Congratulations on Norway’s independence (from,…er, maybe we won’t go into that…), I’m sure they do celebrate that in Wisconsin somewhere. Nice bunad, too, I always wanted one, but where would I wear it. I think they dance in something like that here–in fact the Swedish dancers invited me to join their troop some years ago after they invited the audience to join them in some dance or other in the park, but their costumes run towards wool and in July no less.
I have a very utilitarian Canon in the $125 range (7.1 megapixels and 4X zoom) that does little videos of surprising quality and stores them on a tiny card a little bigger than your fingernail. Then you can upload them to YouTube and embed them in your blog.
I also always forget the Glorious Dag of Norway’s Becoming Beholden to Zweden Rather Than Danmark (as I’ve always thought of it).
But given that I am originally English, and the traditional English manner of celebrating the “national” dag (St George’s Dag) is to be not entirely sure when it is, that almost counts as celebrating.
I do wish the Countess would see sense about keeping chickens, though. (We certainly don’t have space for goats.)
Des, thanks for viewing! Did you live in Sweden before you moved to Holland? Kind of like Descartes in reverse, though I’m sure you’re not a sadistic dwarf.
Chickens are the nicest animals. Very self-sufficient, they don’t require much entertaining, though they seem to enjoy it when it’s offered. They’re best trick is turning upside down and playing dead when birds like hawks fly over. Oh, and we like the eggs.
I wouldn’t wear a men’s bunad, or morris-dancing outfit as I think of it. As a matter of fact I just ordered “The Invention of Tradition” edited by Eric Hobsbawm, $7.47 from Amazon. It’s all about how all these things are only from the 19th Century.
I never did live in Sweden, but I took Swedish classes for a few years in Blighty, inspired by a visit to Norway when I was embarrassed by obliging everyone to communicate in English. (There weren’t any Norwegian classes, so I figured Swedish was close enough for jazz.)
In the end I only ever visited Sweden once, for a few days, and I haven’t been back to Norway. And of course in the meantime I moved to the Netherlands, but life can of course be like that.
If there wasn’t any tradition someone would have had to invent it. It don’t mind 19th c. but I really prefer the Viking age. Then you get to wear silk and lots of amber and silver, or whatever else you want to wear that you can research into existence. Viking women didn’t really carry swords, so I don’t carry one, but I do have one (not battle ready, heaven forbid). Viking women did know how to use them. In a pinch they would grab their brother’s sword and gallop off to wreck havoc. Mead isn’t bad either, if you can find some that isn’t too sweet. I have no idea what they drank in the 19th century, but I doubt if it was as much fun.
I think the men’s cosutmes have short pants? I seem to remember a lot of leg, provocatively encased in long socks. And maybe billowing sleeves? I really don’t remember but I do remember the guys looked good. There were some distracting insturments of the fiddle variety and maybe something with a keyboard.
When are you going to bring out the mariachi shorts?
A Bad Guide
The last picture makes me wonder whether Misty is not a dog with horns glued on top of her head.
Wonderful pictures. You do have lovely animals. That’s a beautiful hen. I like the feathery feet.
She is lovely and very friendly. She’s a Salmon Faverolles, currently my favourite breed of hen.
I don’t know whether it’s the goats or the photography, but looking at pictures of your goats always makes me smile and think the world isn’t such a bad place after all.
No, it’s definitely the goats. They’re expressions and movements are so appealing, you just have to be there and take a picture. It’s just too bad I can’t get their voices as well.
Wasn’t there a picture of Mrs Crown reading the papers somewhere? Did she have to go?
I’m sure your camera has a microphone and can make little videos of the goats. (Come on, don’t be shy, we won’t mock their Scandinavian accent.)
I agree with Hat: I look at the goats, the adorable dogs, the cute hen — not to mention the beautiful teenager — and the incredible backdrop of nature and think: all is right with the world.
Thanks, Mr Crown. Your blog is A Good Thing.
Yes, she had to leave; she was worried her spirit would be washed away down the internet.
My camera doesn’t do anything except take pictures, but I expect someone in the house has an electric car or kitchen blender/phone that makes tiny little videos.
The goats have grown up hearing two languages, so they don’t have funny accents.
I see, so you don’t like the horse or the parrot?
Seriously, thanks.
Oh, Syttende Mai, how could I have forgotten. Congratulations on Norway’s independence (from,…er, maybe we won’t go into that…), I’m sure they do celebrate that in Wisconsin somewhere. Nice bunad, too, I always wanted one, but where would I wear it. I think they dance in something like that here–in fact the Swedish dancers invited me to join their troop some years ago after they invited the audience to join them in some dance or other in the park, but their costumes run towards wool and in July no less.
I have a very utilitarian Canon in the $125 range (7.1 megapixels and 4X zoom) that does little videos of surprising quality and stores them on a tiny card a little bigger than your fingernail. Then you can upload them to YouTube and embed them in your blog.
I also always forget the Glorious Dag of Norway’s Becoming Beholden to Zweden Rather Than Danmark (as I’ve always thought of it).
But given that I am originally English, and the traditional English manner of celebrating the “national” dag (St George’s Dag) is to be not entirely sure when it is, that almost counts as celebrating.
I do wish the Countess would see sense about keeping chickens, though. (We certainly don’t have space for goats.)
Des, thanks for viewing! Did you live in Sweden before you moved to Holland? Kind of like Descartes in reverse, though I’m sure you’re not a sadistic dwarf.
Chickens are the nicest animals. Very self-sufficient, they don’t require much entertaining, though they seem to enjoy it when it’s offered. They’re best trick is turning upside down and playing dead when birds like hawks fly over. Oh, and we like the eggs.
I wouldn’t wear a men’s bunad, or morris-dancing outfit as I think of it. As a matter of fact I just ordered “The Invention of Tradition” edited by Eric Hobsbawm, $7.47 from Amazon. It’s all about how all these things are only from the 19th Century.
I never did live in Sweden, but I took Swedish classes for a few years in Blighty, inspired by a visit to Norway when I was embarrassed by obliging everyone to communicate in English. (There weren’t any Norwegian classes, so I figured Swedish was close enough for jazz.)
In the end I only ever visited Sweden once, for a few days, and I haven’t been back to Norway. And of course in the meantime I moved to the Netherlands, but life can of course be like that.
No, I like the horse and parrot, too. But they aren’t featured as much here, so I forgot them. Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt their feelings.
If there wasn’t any tradition someone would have had to invent it. It don’t mind 19th c. but I really prefer the Viking age. Then you get to wear silk and lots of amber and silver, or whatever else you want to wear that you can research into existence. Viking women didn’t really carry swords, so I don’t carry one, but I do have one (not battle ready, heaven forbid). Viking women did know how to use them. In a pinch they would grab their brother’s sword and gallop off to wreck havoc. Mead isn’t bad either, if you can find some that isn’t too sweet. I have no idea what they drank in the 19th century, but I doubt if it was as much fun.
I think the men’s cosutmes have short pants? I seem to remember a lot of leg, provocatively encased in long socks. And maybe billowing sleeves? I really don’t remember but I do remember the guys looked good. There were some distracting insturments of the fiddle variety and maybe something with a keyboard.
When are you going to bring out the mariachi shorts?
To know Swedish may have helped a little with learning the Netherlandish vocabulary, I imagine. Knowing some German helped me with Norwegian.
Nothing was mentioned, but we’ll tell them you like them.