Little goose, who made thee?

Feelin' barnyardish lately.

The Goosegirl. It's a fave. Perhaps because it reminds me of my sister in law (has a thing for headkerchiefs). Or because there's a talking horsehead. Or because in the end they roll the fraudulent princess down a hill in a barrelful of nails until she's dead.

There was one small, horrifying moment when I thought I'd got it all wrong. That it was goats instead of geese and I'd made some terrible mistake and how the hell was I going to explain a gooseherder? I mean, if it had been the other way around, no problem. There's Bo Peep, and Mary's Little Lamb, a handful of Aesop's, maybe even some Blake that I could have fudged. But geese? Nuh.

But it's all good. No worries. Except for the missing gooseboy Conrad that I sliced out and am fairly sure is harboring a grudge over being deprived his fifteen minutes.