Thursday, April 28, 2011

PIRATES for AUTISM AWARENESS! Plus, we'll probably bring the goat.....

GO, TEAM PIRATE for Autism Awareness

Join us and WALK LIKE A PIRATE to raise Autism Awareness!



sponsored by the Oswego County Autism Task Force

at Leighton School & Wilber Field & Track

Oswego, NY 13126

The event will run from 11am to 2pm

*If you are unable to walk the track please don your FUN & HAPPY pirate garb....bring a deck chair and cheer us on!

*Pirates- We respectfully request that pirate garb be fun, happy & kid-friendly.


Please, NO doubloons to be given out.

Beads ok.

Thank you.

*Participate in the 3 mile walk on Wilber Track

*Learn more about Autism and resources in and near Oswego County

*Enjoy refreshments

*Let the kids engage in face painting, jump and play in the AIR HOP inflatable house and slide.

*Enjoy balloon animals, dance shows, bubble play and more!

*Win door prizes.

*Show your support for local kids and families affected by the Autism Spectrum Disorder.

Call 349-3510 or email us at

Any PIRATE ONLY questions contact Foxmorton at

Bring a dish to pass pirate family BBQ following.

Alcohol free.

Contact Foxmorton for specific details.

Walkers Only!

Hope to see you there!



Tuesday, April 26, 2011





Just a quick happy, happy Easter from Darla's barn!

The Easter Goat brought licorice goat treats and I just had to share
this dirty-face pic. After, we went 'four-wheelin' in the pasture!
Darla flew through the mud at my heels and we ran and ran.

She grows so. And my heart aches that she's no longer home.

But it also bursts with pride.

Thursday, April 21, 2011


New Capra Blanket treasure has washed ashore!

I can't describe how wonderful it makes me feel when a package shows up on my desk!

I have set an arbitrary date of OCTOBER 1, 2011 to actually start work on the blanket.
But I have a feeling that I'll be adding to the energy for a long time to come.

This week's treasure is from:

Marigold (the goat) and goatmother Maryanne from Sequim, WA
It is the actual hem of the goatmother's nightgown!
Marigold writes:  "She is short and has to cut off many things."
Now, I ask special is that?! 
I hope this means I can share in her dreams.

The second are two crochet doilies and hankies from two different grandmothers from
Paula of Liverpool, NY

The handmade doilies are by Grandma Jenny
and the flower hankies are from Grandma Laura.

Remember when everyone had a hankie....?  :)

Paula also gifted me with something that made both of us cry.
She left on my desk an actual goat bell from Switzerland that she purchased 30 years ago.
She told me how it had been "waiting for a goat."
Needless to say, I can't even begin to describe how touched I am at the gesture.
Darla will be proud to wear this magical bell come Yuletide.


Energy everywhere.

I become more and more humbled each time someone shares.

Darla may wear the blanket.....but I am wrapped in love.............

Thank you my, so much.........


To learn more about the CAPRA PROJECT please see the 1/1/11 archive.

Monday, April 18, 2011



So......the best laid plans of goats and Mimi......

Saturday dawned with high winds, knifing temps, icy rain and a bleak outlook for taking wee nippers and elderly seniors out to a wide open farm. So we held a democratic meeting and the decision was made to not make the trip to Crackerbox Palace, much as it pained us.

And then the tears began. (For once, not mine.)

Seems one of our four year olds was devastated.........that she couldn't ride the school bus.

This, in turn led to more tears by the domino effect and I found myself blurting out loud: "What if we get on the school bus....go to Farmer's farm.....and GET GOATS?!"

Farmer, who was really looking forward to his busman's holiday to a working farm and was sitting in his 'good' clothes on the other side of the room, is very, very good at hiding his thoughts.


Which was fortuitious as I'd alread said the whole thing out loud.

So, while most of my seniors stayed behind with the promise that I would return with Darla, the rest of us climbed on the bus and set off for Farmer's nearby farm.

Darla was in her glory to have her lead snapped on and pulled me pell-mell to the door of the bus.

Up the stairs she went and immediately to the back of the bus where all the cool kids were sitting.
(Seems if you are a 7 year old boy......the back of the bus is a mystery to be explored. And if you are a three month old goat...even better.)

Farmer loaded up Meg who, while handled daily and is always up for a snuzzle, was indignant at being taken from her Maa and caused a ruckus until one senior, who had a fondness for goats, got that look in her eye that I had when I first laid eyes on Darla and had herself a healing goat cuddle. Something everyone should have.

We thought better of taking any but Darla to the senior center so we head off with her playing safety monitor and happier than a goat in grain to be with, what she sees as, her Tribe. People.

The rest of the morning was spent playing Chase the Goat!  Oh No, The Goat Is Chasing Me!
and Connect the Cheerios.  (Darla doing the connecting.) We colored our wooden art projects and inspected egg boxes the Bunny had left at my house the night before.   And we all learned The Goatie Chant ("Is that a potato?  Is that a pear?  Is that my goat in UNDERWEAR?")

 No one remembered that this wasn't where we we're supposed to be.

I am always truly amazed at the response I get from Darla.  Seniors become misty eyed remembering a favored pet, the children are fascinated by being able to feed and touch such a 'wild' animal.  It's always special to see their faces when they discover that horns are warm, that's my favorite part.   And I swell with pride when I see the brand of community Darla is able to foster.

Bless Farmer for feeling the same way.

And so we, Darla and I, have yet another unexpected magical goatie adventure.

Life is good.

And the wheels of the bus go 'round.


Friday, April 15, 2011


For those of you who follow this blog you know I live a pirate lifestyle
(See: PIRATE GIRL but I grew up with my Uncle Whitey in the world of westerns.

Pancho and Cisco, The Lone Ranger, Gun Smoke, every spaghetti western ever made, all the John Waynes and for giggles, The Real McCoy's. On Saturday afternoon there was always a western on tv. I don't remember ever distinguishing between them, unless Tonto came on the scene. (I was hopelessly in love with Tonto!) Just a lot of shooting....a lot of dust....and a lot of excitement. And the horses always ran oddly fast.

Plus, there's something about a buckboard.

My Uncle Whitey lived with us always and taught me everything my young self ever needed to know. How to pick weeds (think whitewashing the fence....)set fire to a roll of caps, drink an inch of warm beer from a waxy Dixie cup, bait a hook and how to shoot a shotgun (Wisely, he never did teach me how to load it)and how to shut up.

My Uncle Whitey was there when no one else was. He shouldered the burden of my endless chatter, though now that I think on it he did make me a "rabbit catcher" (box-string-stick-carrot) and I remember spending a great deal of time dead silent and still while Uncle Whitey sat peacefully under a nearby tree.

Which is why I'm glad the western is coming back. MEEKS CUTOFF, a neo-western about the settlers on the Oregon Trail, is set to open April 22.
I'm excited to see it. It looks as though it has great potential.
Of course, who didn't love TOMBSTONE, but this looks as though it will address the woman's POV. I like that. And Uncle Whitey would like that it was a western.

There ought to be more westerns, I think. Trail blazing and homesteading.
Learning from the land and hoping for the best. And, quite frankly, I could wear one of those bonnets everyday! I know I'd be the lady to marry the bloke who kept coming home with the fool's gold but he'd be cute, and sincere and I'd like that.

I was just thinking that April Fool's Day was Uncle Whitey's FAVORITE day of the year. Oh, how he loved it! He'd have an "April Fool!" ready for you before you got out of bed. Then you'd get pussy willows. A whole, big bunch! He'd go way down back in the swamp and mud and bring them back. And he always said "there ain't none this year" right before he disappeared.

I miss those pussy willows.

I miss those pussy willows more than you can imagine.

But I know how to love a western.


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

An Inter-office Memo from Darla







Hello Everyone,

It's me. Darla Rose Caprine.

Well, it was bound to happen. My Maa came yesterday and told me I had to go to work. Wouldn't it figure. And on the nicest day of the year, too!

So, off we went in the car....I'm real good at it now....and drove all the way to work. It was almost 82 degrees in our town and Maa was mad that she didn't have a sun dress in the car. She said my GIRLS RULE sweatshirt was too hot so I'd have to just wear my diaper because 'they have carpet at work.'

Everyone at work was real nice. They had snacks in all the offices but I politely declined until I got to the Dog License office where they have.....I am not making this up.....DOG SNACKS! Dog snacks are my favorite treat in the whole, wide world!

Now, those of you who know me know that I was fond of sharing snacks with my big brother, Yellow Dog, when I got to live at home with my family. So I ate the snack right up but it made me remember that I miss my big brother. Well, and my Big Sister too, even though she's a cat. I like going places with my Maa, like the Tractor Store where Maa always has her hands full keeping me out of the grain sacks and forgets to take pictures.
Going places with my Maa makes me feel like being at my home again.

Anyway, I decided that I'd liked the Dog Licence office the best and so they put me to work straight away. There was an awful lot of paper that needed to be shredded but you have to be careful elsewise the Animal Control guy will get huffy if you shred the wrong ones.

Then there was the customer service and the computers. And then the posing for my employee pictures. I was exhausted by the time we got back to Maa's office which, I have to say, has the neatest stuff in it and reminds me of my Family Home. So I got out a dolly and took a snooze while Maa finished her work.

All in all it was a nice day. And being with my Maa is what I love most. On the way home Maa told me how proud of me she was for working so hard at all my jobs. But I figure it was no big deal. Anytime I get to spend with my Maa seems to make her very, very happy.

Toodle-oo for now friends or, as we say if the business world, we'll get back to you.

love and goatie kisses,

Monday, April 11, 2011


Ok ladies and gentlemen.....have you seen a cuter cowboy goat?!

Sweet, handsome Barry is the trustworthy guard goat of my friend
Cheri who owns, operates and loves Crackerbox Palace Animal Rescue Farm!

And....YAY!.....we are off to their annual Spring Fundraiser Event by
bus this Saturday to visit and play!

Crackerbox Palace is a lovely, happy farm where all the animals are loved just the way they are supposed to be!

If you happen to be in our area (Syracuse, NY) won't you join us for the April 16th trip? We've a lovely stop at Bonnie's Pleasant Beach Hotel on the way home.

Hope to see you this weekend ...and don't forget to pack some healthy snacks for our friends!

Much love,

Thursday, April 7, 2011



Just wow!

What a most excellent Capra Project surprise on this sunny Spring day!

A battered and beat up package arrived in today's post from Demet who lives in Istanbul, Turkey! I was in awe! Six packets of fabric, most hand embroidered or woven, were included within, each bearing a post-it note detailing the history of the piece.

The following is copied from the post-it notes.

From L-R we have:

*Kilim designs from Anatolia

*Odemis Silk used for embroidery. Odemis is a village in Aegean region of Turkey.

*Cloth called: divitin. Usually used by village women.

*This textile is usually used to make sheets in Cypress.

*Cypriot Handwork: It is made by cutting silkworm pods (cocoons) and arranging them like flowers. Usually they are framed and used as wall hangings.

* (bottowm-circles) Cypriot embroidery called "Lefkara" embroidery.

As usual when a package arrives, once my excitement simmers down I become very humbled and, in most cases, a wee bit teary. I somehow can't imagine that people I do not know could take the time to become part of a project such as this. That fabrics that have history and energy and stories and bits of other peoples lives have made their way to me to grace the back of my wee magical goatie. It makes me feel so small and yet so very, very tall.

And so, to Demet in Istanbul I send my heartfelt thanks for adding more magic to a wonderful blanket that grows stronger in love and unity each and every day.

And my special thanks to Gloria who believed in my project and passed it on.

With love to all past, present and future Capra Project friends........

~Mimi & Darla

You may read the initial Capra and the Magical Goat Blanket Project post at

With apologies that I am link challenged but Marigold, who spent ages trying to help me, said it might not be my fault. ;)

At any rate, it is the 1/1/11 post.

Friday, April 1, 2011



copyright 2009 by Mimi Foxmorton I've discovered the Secret of the Universe.

No, really, I have.

As a fairly recent first time homeowner with the ability to make absolutely nothing of import rise from the soil I maintained an improbable three year quest to grow wild violets.

You see...I've been to the web sites. I know what they say about wild violets behind their backs. It isn't polite. Virtually everywhere I went there was page upon page of information on how to get rid of wild violets. Eradication with the vengeance of a super villain. And not a single site where I could actually order them.

Oh, some violets have their own society. And something called violas (second cousins thrice removed, I think) can be bought in pots from the nursery. But nary a place to be found that would help me to grow the flower of my dreams; the vile and savage violet.

It became almost taboo to ask how one would go about the growing of a lawn full of these wily, nefarious and apparently, to hear tell, just plain discourteous plants. Looks of horror would be followed by declarations regarding the plight of my sanity. To willfully sow such a thing appeared to be akin to criminal activity or, at the very least, Bedlamite lunacy.

But I didn't care. I love wild things. They make me feel free somehow. Airy and surreal. As though I belong to another time. Like any thing's possible and how weeds can be beautiful and maybe, just maybe things are going to be ok.

I remember my first encounter with a wild thing. Six or seven years old I stumbled across the most wondrous lacy white flower just growing, seemingly for miles, in a field. I still remember how I felt; as though I'd discovered a magical faerie land. My good fortune was unbelievable. Was it possible that only I knew of this enchantment?

Picking only one, least I offend the faeries, I ran back to the house to show my mother my secret discovery only to be promptly tossed back out the door with the admonition to get that "stink weed out the house right now!" Perception, it seems, being a notoriously personal thing. To say that I was disappointed to find my magic flowers were, in fact, stink weed is putting it delicately to say the very least. (This happened again with Spring trillium but I wisely decided to stay in the cool woods and play bride by myself.)

Years later I stumbled across the very flower in a garden magazine and found it named Queen Anne's Lace. Ah-ha! Suddenly I was vindicated! And thus began my quest for the Wild Thing.

Turns out that senior citizens are a wealth of information on Where To Get Things and luckily I'm a senior event coordinator in my Other Life.

A single lunch time plea netted me three huge boxes of the coveted plant the very next day. In full bloom. I couldn't believe how beautiful they were. Giant clumps of heavily flowered, deep purple violets hanging from delicate, long green stems, just waiting to dwell with me.

But I was compelled to ask: Why? I begged to know. Why was it that absolutely no one wanted a yard full of wild violets? Was there something I didn't know? Would these innocent looking plants sneak through my bedroom window and strangle me in the night? Did they sing show tunes, poorly, when you were trying to nap?

Why can’t one have a lawn carpeted with the wild violet?

It was at that point that a senior gentleman offered what would turn out to be the most important words I had ever been given upon which to reflect: "Because," he confided with a sage nod and a matter-of-fact tone. "Because it isn't grass."

And there it was. The Secret of the Universe: Because It Isn't.

Because, once upon a time, someone said it should be so.

And so that's the way it is.

No shocking reason. No horrifying revelation. It just wasn't
what it ought to be.

And that, it seems, is good enough.

But I intend to change that, me and my Wild Things.

I intend to embrace the things that Aren't.
The things that Shouldn't Be.

And I intend to change the secret to the Wild Thing at a time.

Next year I'm starting a thistle garden.

Mimi Foxmorton is a pirate by blood by nature and by choice and embraces imagination and the Wild Things. She is also a children’s theatre director and senior citizen coordinator. She was adopted from an orphanage in Heidelberg, Germany and thinks her Book of Rules, the one that is apparently handed out at birth, got lost in the move.

Daucus Carota