I hate to disrupt your regularly scheduled alpaca antics, but I have a few housekeeping notes. I’m headed down to the ranch tomorrow and I’ll be there through January 2nd. During this time, posts may be somewhat erratic. It’s not that we don’t have internet, there are just so many other things to do. I promise to at least try to update during the holidays.

What?

And since that’s a sort of lame post, here’s a story about Brittany. The ranch was zoned “agricultural” when we bought it. To keep your agricultural rating you must sell some product that comes from your land. Because the taxes are so much lower on ag land, many people try to pull a fast one on the county government. They plant 100 knee-high pines and call their place a nursery, that kind of thing. We, on the other hand, are trying to build a legitimate agricultural business, something for Mom and Dad to have into their retirement. So Mom sent all her paperwork and receipts in to the tax assessor, and considered it done and dusted.

This was in the early days of tenure at the ranch, when we were still uncertain if the previous owners were going to show up demanding all the stuff they’d left behind. So when an unmarked white suv drove down the driveway Mom was suspicious. The suv stopped next to the alpaca turnout, and a lady abruptly exited. Without any explanation, she got out a camera and began to take pictures of the alpacas, all very strange and rude. So Mom asked her what she thought she was doing. She replied, “I’m from the tax assessors office, and I need PROOF that these alpacas of yours really exist.”

Hey! Are you looking over here? I'm coming over to see you!

Mom looked at the girls, who were standing not 20 feet away, and then back at the lady, “Well. There they are. Existing.” The lady harumphed. By this time, Brittany, who is always the most curious and forward of the ‘pacas, had decided to investigate. So when the lady took another picture, the flash went off right in Brittany’s face. Brittany wheeled away, stopping just out of reach to give the lady her best, “How rude!” look before clearing her nose in a spray of snot. The lady, in classic comedic fashion, gave Brittany an identical “How rude!” glare, and got back into her car and drove off without another word.

Which just goes to show you, sometimes people are trying to do the right thing, and you should give them the benefit of the doubt, or end up with snot sprayed all over your fancy pant suit. Or something like that.