After the first day I thought to myself: "That smells."
After two days I thought to myself: "I can't believe someone hasn't removed it."
On the third morning, I thought out loud to my wife: "Get the wheelbarrow and follow me."
We headed to the beach with the wheelbarrow, a tarp, two shovels, and a video camera.
We collected the carcass and brought it home to our active compost heap. Within a week it was down to bones, but the video has yet to make it to YouTube.
The "goat story" - as it has come to be known - is oft-repeated when I am introduced by certain of our friends to certain of their friends.
That day over three years ago was the start of my ongoing relationship with our beautiful coastal zone.
Since then, the relationship has developed with every walk along the sand, every wave surfed at the North Mole, and every armful of driftwood.
In the latter stages of our renovation, driftwood has become more of a design element in our attempt to meld a classic villa with a beach bach in a way that honours both while spoiling neither.
Sounds like a job for Terry Lobb, but in my unprofessional hands I think things have turned out fine.
Despite what my wife says, there are still some rooms in our home without driftwood, although that may not be the case much longer after my recent venture into headboard making.
Previous to the headboard, my indoor driftwood projects had been limited to surfboard racks, coat/hat/key racks, children's toys, artwork, and our Christmas tree.
Nelson Lebo consults businesses, schools, and home-owners on all aspects of sustainability - email: theecoschool@gmail.com or phone 06 3445013 or 022 6350868.