Haahhahahaaa! 
I hear this all too often from my minions. (ahem -- daughters)
On a recent family jaunt to Northern California, to a quaint, little town called Pescadero, we decided to have a look around.  We got there late on a Saturday morning.  After a bit of walking and getting the lay of the land,  husband got hungry; daughters got hungry. So I suggested that we go grab a bite to eat.  After filling our tummies, we decided to explore a bit more.  I wanted to survey further on the outskirts, so I told the fam, "Hey.  If you don't mind, I'm going to head up this way."   With interests lying elsewhere, rather than following me around taking photos, we went our separate ways. 
Just me and my camera.  Immersed. Lost. Engaged. Adrift. Focused. Complete escape. 
Then.  
Reality check.   
"Mom!  Stop taking photos!  Get in the car!"  

This city holds a special place in my heart. 
During my senior year (yes!  you read that right!),  my family and I had to move from Guam to California.  My Dad needed special medical attention that was not provided in Guam.   I was devastated to have left the island during my last year in high school.  We moved in with my sister, who lived in one of the outer cities of San Francisco.   Daly City. Talk about weather shock!  From island weather to cold, windy, foggy.  Ugh.  
But then the weather grew on me, and the city, and the people.   
Time and time again,  I navigate to San Francisco.  And each time, capturing images of the city.  
San Francisco.  It's easy to leave your heart here. 

​So here's the thing.   When I drive around, I get distracted. I stop. Tonight, that's just what I did.
Goats to my right.  They were up the road a week and a half ago.  I did stop then, too, but did not have quite the view that I did this evening.  
Camera grabbed.
Away I go. 
So many goats.  Ahhh....sheep, too.  
Is that a dog?  What kind of dog?  Great Pyrenees.  
The goats seem to be ready to be photographed.  They had made their way into the trees this evening. as if to say, "Hey!  Have you seen me up in this tree?"
Parker is the "director of goats." What a title.  So cordial and willing to chat.  One can only hope to be called a director of something sometime in your life.  
So there you go.  Get your goat.