Two days ago Lee did absolutely the best Crumple Iíd ever seen. If the Olympic judges had been
watching, Iím sure they would have given him all 9ís and one 10 for their scores. Personally, Iíd have
given him all 10ís but you know how those Olympic judges are.
We were sorting goats that morning. It was cold, brisk, wind blowing at 20 mph. We had two older
girls in with the young bred girls that were just doing their best to kill everyone within 200 yards in
either direction of them. They were boss and they were continually reminding everyone of this fact.
They needed to be taken out. No, no, not killed. This isnít the movies. They needed to be put in a pen
all their own, together. They wouldnít thump on each other. They had too much respect for each other
to do that. But, our young bred girls needed to be protected.
Everything had been working according to plan, that is, the goatsí plan, not ours. Half the herd had
decided they absolutely had to be in the same pen with the older girls that were trying to kill them, so
there they were. Not where they were suppose to be. We were pushing, pulling, dragging, and
sometimes we did this to a goat, trying to get them back out of the pen while keeping the mean girls in.
Lee got the idea to get a bucket of grain and entice all the girls back out of the pen and start over again.
I thought maybe I could stay in the pen and keep the mean girls from escaping and let the young girls
run to Leeís grain. So, we tried this new plan.
They saw the grain bucket and out moved the girls in a tremendous wave, those in the pen and those
who had been standing outside of the pen watching the rodeo. The two groups converged on Lee and
started milling around him. It was like he was in the eye of a tornado, only it wasnít calm.
Several girls stood on his feet while another group moved in behind him, bowling him over. And, he just
gently, gracefully crumpled to the ground. No solid fall, no fast movement, just a graceful crumple to the
ground in the middle of the herd. The last thing seen was a hand and a bucket of grain being held
skyward, sort of like in the movie Terminator Two where Arnold gets melted, only he didnĎt have a
bucket of grain in his hand. And slowly Leeís hand and bucket of grain disappeared as the goats took
the bucket. It was beautiful. Wished Iíd had a camera.
When he was able to crawl out of the herd while they were busy fighting over the bucket, I couldnít
find enough words to compliment him. I was overjoyed with the beauty of what Iíd just seen. Lee
looked at me oddly. "You brag on me over the strangest things," was all he said.
He did admit later that I had bragged so much on him that for the rest of the day he kept looking for
ways to crumple again. But, the right moment never came up.
Now, me, I canít crumple. I have tried and tried. Iím just not that graceful. Itís either a whole hearted
thud or a stagger, stagger, stumble, fall flat type of fall. Itís really discouraging. Some people
are that way. Some crumple gracefully, others thud. And, you must learn how to do this early in life.
For example, a couple of months ago Lee and I went visiting my sister and her husband. Their two
children were so excited over our visit that they had to show off their scooters, bicycles, etc. Especially
ride them fast to show how good they were at the sport.
Our 4 yr. Old nephew was showing off his riding skills, with all the protective gear on his little body.
My sisterís no dummy in protecting them from themselves. That bike with training wheels was simply
flying around the concrete driveway. Suddenly he lined up and headed straight for the retaining wall
along the hill. Big heavy railroad cross ties, four foot high, to hold the hill back.
And, he never slowed down. It was like he had finally trained his little legs to pedal forwards and to
suddenly pedal backwards to brake was too much to comprehend. Full speed, straight ahead, he ran
into the wall. It was a tremendous noise and as the dust cleared, a little hand rose above the tangled
bicycle with training wheels still spinning and that little hand waved. A small quavery voice spoke up
and said, "Iím all right. Iím just fine."
But, wise old dad knew better and went out and picked up his little son and took him in the house so
he could cry a bit in humiliation over embarrassing himself in front of company. Well, not me. Unlike my
sensitive young nephew, if I get hurt I let everyone know about it. All the neighbors know about it and
at the very instant I get hurt.
When Lee went down in his crumple, all he said was, "Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhhh." Then goat
bodies were all over him and you couldnít even hear the tail end of that.
Me, when I go down I donĎt go gently and silently into the night. I say, "OWWWWW!" and not
quietly. Being a church going woman, I donít cuss. I find that regular language explains things better
than cussing. The neighbors hear things like, "OUCH!" "I THINK I BROKE MY POSTERIOR!"
"BOY, I BUSTED MY HINEY ON THAT ONE!" "GET OFF MY FOOT YOU BIG HORSE!"
And since we have horses, they understand that one perfectly and know I am not talking to Lee.
So gracefully crumpling, going down quietly and politely, does not fit my personality at all. I bet you are
wondering if we ever got those goats separated. Yes. The mean goats and I were so impressed with
Leeís crumple that we just stood there and watched. I finally had the presence of mind to swing the
gate shut after the young girls left, trapping the mean ones inside the pen. Now maybe things will be
quieter in the herd and Lee will not have to do the Crumple anymore. He certainly doesnít need to
practice. Heís all ready perfect at it.