Monday, July 23, 2018


The first day without the flock here was a little sad and a little easier. Chores were done before the deluge of rain came slamming down and the rest of the day was spent on the indoor work of design and illustration clients, a lot of coffee, and two sleeping dogs. Between the storms I was able to run into town to do some laundry, send out some mail (books and soap), and pick up some feed. It was a quiet day.

The goats are up for sale but so far all the emails haven't been fruitful. I hope they find a good home soon and Bonita and Ida can stay together. They've never spend a day apart in their lives since Ida was born. Ida is due to kid soon so whomever takes them will have a bonus goat or two in the deal, which is great. They would be a great, seasoned, stanchion-trained, little starter dairy for a homestead around here.

Soon as I have the money from the goats and sheep I need to take care of a house payment and then I want to repair the wood stove and get in the first cord of firewood. Those three things are where my focus is set right now, in that exact order. June was an average month for sales all around but unplanned repairs (after some planned repairs) were an unexpected burden. But that's life. That's every one of our stories. We're all just doing our best with what we have. This farm is no different.

I also need to remind myself that big changes like moving sheep and selling goats - the relief on the farm won't be a fast change. Yes, there was less hay and grain used today and less gates opened but it will be months before I feel okay about all this and understand the choice and how it makes things a little easier. In the meantime I need to hustle anyway I can to keep the literal lights on. Around here that isn't a phrase thrown around lightly.

I know things sound somewhat rough around here, and they have for the past few weeks. But stick  with me and let's see where it all ends up? My hope is this farm stays a place of horses, chickens, dogs, cats, and hawks year round with summer pigs and lambs. That feels right for a one-woman operation when that one woman is me, right now, trying to struggle less and breathe a little calmer.