The accidental farmer...
Well... okay... maybe it wasn't all that accidental.
Though I've been rather busy knitting there's been lots of other stuff going on too.
Mac Daddy's tractor was delivered and let me tell you the man is in love. Anybody know where I can get some worsted wool in Cub Cadet yellow?

I informed him that he is now pre-paid for any gift giving occasion that occurs for the rest of his life.
Its your birthday? Go look at the tractor. Happy birthday.
Christmas? Go look at the tractor. Merry Christmas.
Our anniversary? Go look at the tractor. Happy anniversary.
(You get the idea.)
The kids are getting big and by kids I mean all of them whether they have 2 legs or 4.
From the left to the right are Nacho, Purl, and Zeke...

Purl would still be perfectly happy to come back up to the house and hang out on the sofa with me. I think she wonders what she did wrong to get put outside with those boys.

We hatched 5 chickens though we don't know what kind they are. Our 5 eggs were given to us by a neighbor and they were all a different color. Its been really neat to see how different all the chicks are.

And then there's the Goosers...

Now I realize that I am one of those people who is endlessly amused by small creatures but really these guys are in a class all their own. They are hilarious and they have no idea. They think I am their Mama and the rest of the family is their flock. We know this is normal imprinting and we were prepared for it but what I wasn't prepared for is that they also think that absolutely everything is an emergency.
She moved 2 feet to the left! Ahhh! Hurry!!(waddle, waddle, waddle)
Oh no! She moved again!! Hurry!!(waddle, waddle, tumble, waddle)
Quick!! We're going the WHOLE WAY across the yard!!! Hurry!!!(waddle, waddle, tumble, tumble, waddle)
I don't mind telling you that all the (human) kids enjoy the animals but Tater is my little partner-in-crime. Her and I spend time most evenings walking the Goosers around so they can pick at clover and we can laugh at the way they tumble and waddle. We let the goats out of their pasture because they enjoy being with us. They follow us down into the woods so they can eat the wild roses that have taken over the hill and Purl especially loves to run full out as fast as her short legs can carry her back up over the hill to the front of the house so she can stand on the porch where she used to go to get her milk bottle.
Zeke will eventually grow to be a big goat so we have started training him on a halter and lead. He took right to it so even Tater can walk him and she just looks so proud of her silly goat wearing his fancy new halter.
I suppose a real farmer would think most of this is waste. We won't be eating our chickens and the one dairy goat we have is a boy. Geese won't do anything but leave a mess in their wake. So what good is all this anyway?
Well, I'm one of those people who's mind never stops ticking. My hands must be busy and my mind must be occupied to keep my heart content. Quiet time makes me jumpy and relaxing isn't in my vocabulary. I don't sit still and I don't know that I really want to.
But being out on the hill with geese at my feet makes me smile. Listening to Tater tell them stories in her little warble voice as she builds little hay nests for them warms me and I can breathe deeply.

So while the boys play in the woods and eldest daughter talks on the phone about the horses she got to feed and brush at a friend's house Tater and I hang out with geese and goats.
And its totally worth it.










