The Goose Party

I’ve just come in from an hour of picking up goose shit. Again.

I don’t like to swear in my blog, but that truly is the most fitting word for the finely aged 2 week old crap that is carpeting our lawn. Being away for two weeks was CLEARLY an invitation to the entire goose population of Georgian Triangle to camp out on our lawn. All two acres of it. I know I’m prone to exaggeration, but this isn’t just 3 or 4 geese who deposited their goods around the water’s edge; the poop extends all the way to the front yard. In fact, it’s so extensive, I wonder if they stopped to suntan on the deck and enjoy a few beers in the hottub between mouthfuls of grass.

The purpose of this post is not to complain (can you tell?) but more importantly to ask if ANYONE has any ADVICE on how to crash the giant GOOSEPARTY that’s taking place in our back yard.

We both have our own techniques - -I run after them swirling my hands in the air and yelling “HALALALALALWOOOOLOOOLALALALAL GET OFF MY LAWN YOU STUPID GEESEE!!!!” at the top of my lungs and Rob grabs a handful of pebbles and throws them at them.

At first, I have to admit, I liked my technique better. As much as I disliked our new 50 pets, I have a soft spot for animals and found myself cringing every time Rob launched a pebble at them. Now, after a week of picking up goose shit by the bagfuls and still not noticing much of a difference, I find myself cheering, “Aim for the babies! Aim for the babies!”

(Fellow animal lovers – fear not. We ARE still just at he “pebbles” stage and haven’t actually hit one yet. We are practicing the art of persuasion, not brutality…)

Do I regret my two weeks away? Not on your life…but I DO find myself questioning the decision to live in the middle of nowhere and give birth a son who puts anything and everything into his mouth.

Nuff said.

Suggestions are welcome!!!!