That's Not A Designer Handbag, It's My Goat!

If there is one thing that this last year has taught me, is that opportunities come in unexpected places. Had someone told me where I would be at in my life today, I would have laughed myself silly. However, as much as I have realized that I can be a control freak over certain aspects of my life, I have come to recognize that there are times I simply need to let go and see where this path takes us.

Why am I bringing this up now? Well, my dearest husband has been thinking about trying to get a young cow or some pigs for a little while now. We have looked into several breeds (mainly heritage breeds, as this fits into our life and philosophy the best) and have tried to find locally based breeders if possible.  While we are still somewhat flexible on the cattle breed, he has his heart set on getting some Large Black Hogs. Yep, that is actually the name of the breed (so descriptive the English are!! Just kidding; I think the pigs are pretty handsome and their name obviously fits them), and they are pretty rare. so rare, in fact, that I believe one little piglet will probably run at least $300. Just for one, never mind several to try to start our own little colony with.

So with dreams of expensive ham in mind, he had me put an ad out asking people for their unwanted livestock for our family to raise. It wasn't specific, but he was hoping for a cow, or a pig or something of that ilk. Never did it even occur to us we would get the exact animal we really didn't want. Little goats. I don't mean baby goats, but miniature milk goats, Dwarf Nigerian Goats to be specific. Why on earth would anyone want a tiny milking goat??

Apparently, quite a few people are into keeping them. They apparently make good pets (goats in the house, are our serious?? I mean, they are literally eating and pooping machines!). Quite a few people actually prefer them because of their small size. After all, a herd is cheaper to feed and they might be easier for a novice to deal with, especially if big animals seem too scary. And people seem quite proud of the little buggers.

When we got our first goats, we looked at all the books, and decided that of all the breeds, the last ones we wanted were the miniature ones. Why? I guess for us it came down to personal preference; the larger breeds give more milk, and if we were going to have a herd of milk goats, we might as well have full-sized ones!

So here we are suddenly, with several more goats. Our little herd has suddenly doubled in numbers, though not in size. Some of these fellows (we now have 4 new bucks!) are truly tiny, and can not only walk under Splint, our largest wether, but under Panas our almost yearling Nubian as well. I never thought I would see the day. Aside from getting some rather small goats, they seem to have come to us with some issues as well. All have horns (yes, dammit, HORNS AGAIN!) that are delaminating which is a good indication of being effectively malnourished. And they are all bloated (a potentially life threatening condition for goats). So now we not only have to help them get better, but figure out what their optimal feed really is and hope that they can rebound from it. Plus, they all have horns (of course! Go figure. Better get the coping saw out again), and the hoofs on a few of them are so bad i'll bet they haven't felt the earth in a LONG while.

Thing us, after spending a little time with them, I can sorta see the appeal of these little Nigerian goats. They can be kinda cute. They look like miniature mountain goats. Maybe we can let the children breed them and use the proceeds to get a few Large Black Hogs. Just thinking of the possibilities here.

Another Holiday Gone...

Another holiday has come and gone. Happy Thanksgiving. I'm actually feeling somewhat sad today. Granted, we are staying with the in-laws, so it isn't as though we are without family. I am just missing my own family right now. Last night we drove from our house in the city to the semi-rural place my husbands' parents own. Through a snow and ice storm with an antique armoire in the bed of the truck, which was packed to the gills.

I did get a few nice sunset photos, although they don't do justice to the real thing.

It wasn't as bad as some storms we have driven through. The snow was light while the winds were only at about 20 mph. The road was pretty icy and the temperature was 6 degrees. Somehow it seemed like it wasn't too bad for all that. No sliding on the black ice, no wrecks to navigate around, no drifts of snow across the highway. We all made it in one piece (as did the armoire), unpacked, and collapsed into bed.

I really enjoy cooking, if you didn't already know. Normally, we would cook a great mealk at home, with one of the family members present (for the last few years it has been my sister). We would bake, and have a relaxing day with food, family, and the craziness that the kids bring naturally. This year was already going to be different though. Since we are trying to move forward with slowly packing the house so we can sell it and staying with the in-laws for the majority of the time we would not be hosting this year. This past Monday we had to travel to the house so that Greg could have a hole in the roof of his mouth fixed (a pretty painful surgery, and maybe a story for another day), and Tuesday Claire was going to have a cavity filled. We were planning to come back Wednesday. Since there would really not be enough time for us to cook a great meal, we went with Plan B: Let my IL's order from the place they usually do for the holiday, a cafeteria-style chain. We decided it was worth not having the stress of cooking and baking especially since we would be travelling, and would just deal with the foods that aren't really on our diet anymore. I also thought I would just run to the store the day after we got back to pick up some sweet potatoes/yams and cranberries so we could at least have some good side dishes that we all liked.

About halfway here, I realized that that the day after we returned would be THANKGIVING. It seems that my grand plans to supplement our meal were foiled by my own distractions with our most recent trip. No way I was going to the store this morning and dealing with the hordes of crazy people buying last minute groceries. Yuck.

This morning it was 10 degrees out as we milked Alice and took care of the goats. I took some photos, but they don't quite convey the cold.

I spent some time talking to my family this morning when the in-laws went to pick up our meal. I feel somewhat adrift already, with the house being so unsettled, but especially with not seeing anyone from my family since February. We try to visit a few times every year, but this year has been especially bad for that. My father was diagnosed with a very rare bone cancer called a Chordoma in April (he has been unwell since March or so). Since then, he has been trying to seek the appropriate treatment which has been a challenge. After many months of dealing with insurance, etc. he is finally getting the treatment he needs. He just finished an intense course of radiation, and the surgery to repair his neck (one vertebrae is entirely gone, and several others are very weak) is scheduled for Tuesday. Less then a week later is the surgery to remove the tumor. Both are pretty dangerous, since the tumor has taken over a vertebrae, a major artery to the brain, and who knows what other structures.

He has been staying with my sister during radiation treatment, across the country from where he and my mom live, since that is where one of the major centers to deal with Chordomas is (in Boston). My mom is travelling tomorrow to be there for the surgery. Which leaves me and my little family here. Not being able to be there for support and to spend time together. Hence, my sadness.