My brain has gone numb with this weather. Two days of night temperatures in the teens and I get all addled, the puzzle pieces of the season that had begun to come together drift to the ground like snow and I want to cover my head with a pillow and have a long deep slumber.
But there is no time for slumber around here! Especially not with a milk addict like Ruth who wailed for 45 minutes her first wake up last night, slowly and successfully breaking her mother while her father shakes his head at me as I lift my shirt and she quickly finds a taut breast equally as ready to let go of milk as she is to drink, and instead of sobs we hear a contented sucking sound and sighs. Finally!
I am a strong woman, but in the face of my crying daughter I am reduced to submissive puddles. MUST BE STRONGER! NO MEANS NO!
But I digress. Back to the farm--I seriously want a couple milking goats and am trying to figure out how we can keep up with them. Stuart and I are coming up with so many great ways to grow our farm we really need to be careful and cautious about how we do it. And wicked smart. We're getting chickens tomorrow. Only 8 to start with. The next step after that is obviously milking goats, right? Is having two milking goats wicked smart? Hmm, something tells me no.
I just finished
The Dirty Life about the crazy ambitious farming couple up in New York. Makes what we do look easy. I recommend it; it's a fast read and gives so much insight into the wild ride of farming and has given me quite a bit of food for thought.
My brain has gone numb with this weather. Two days of night temperatures in the teens and I get all addled, the puzzle pieces of the season that had begun to come together drift to the ground like snow and I want to cover my head with a pillow and have a long deep slumber. 
But there is no time for slumber around here! Especially not with a milk addict like Ruth who wailed for 45 minutes her first wake up last night, slowly and successfully breaking her mother while her father shakes his head at me as I lift my shirt and she quickly finds a taut breast equally as ready to let go of milk as she is to drink, and instead of sobs we hear a contented sucking sound and sighs. Finally!
I am a strong woman, but in the face of my crying daughter I am reduced to submissive puddles. MUST BE STRONGER! NO MEANS NO!
But I digress. Back to the farm--I seriously want a couple milking goats and am trying to figure out how we can keep up with them. Stuart and I are coming up with so many great ways to grow our farm we really need to be careful and cautious about how we do it. And wicked smart. We're getting chickens tomorrow. Only 8 to start with. The next step after that is obviously milking goats, right? Is having two milking goats wicked smart? Hmm, something tells me no. 
I just finished The Dirty Life about the crazy ambitious farming couple up in New York. Makes what we do look easy. I recommend it; it's a fast read and gives so much insight into the wild ride of farming and has given me quite a bit of food for thought. 
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