Monday, April 2, 2012

Get Your Goat

I've been a bit distracted lately.  Ever since I met sweet little Buttercup I've wanted a goat. Rather I want two goats (one and a friend).  My thinking is that if I can't go to the farm I'll bring the farm to me.

There are a few issues with this plan.  First off goats are not allowed in the city limits.  Not to worry. I've already been in contact with the city planning commission and have a proposal all drafted up.  I'm hoping to present this to the commission later this month and am optimistic that small goats will soon be permitted in our urban oasis.

Mine would not be the first town to allow goats.  Cities such as Portland, Seattle, San Diego and Detroit all permit small backyard goats.

But city ordinances are not my only hurdle.  The next is my family.  They all think I'm off my rocker. Quite literally.

Mr. Peculiar, in particular, has no interest in goats.  He's not dreaming of yogurt or cheese or fresh milk or ice cream.  Nor is he dreaming about adorable little babies or goaty snuggles. His interest isn't even peeked by words like Chevre or Lavender Infused Soap or  Rich Homemade Caramel.  No.  He merely wishes I would stop my hippy dippy dreaming and buy our milk from the grocery store; like a normal person.

He wasn't into chickens either.  Or bees.  But he's come around on those so again I am optimistic.  And stubborn.  Plus I strongly believe fresh milk is nutritionally better for our family so I'm going to keep pushing.

My father, also, thinks I'm crazy.  Almost as crazy, if not more so, than my sister who wants to move onto a sailboat with six kids.  Six!  (and I'm the certifiable one).

Nonetheless my father unearthed these photographs proving my early interest in the caprine species.

I submit these photographs as proof of destiny; goats and I were clearly meant to be together.

Assuming Mr. Peculiar comes around my next issue is fencing (or a lack thereof).  We don't have a fence and goats most definitely need one.  Plus I like my neighbors and my neighbors like their yard.  As Robert Frost said, "Good fences make good neighbors."  My plan is to fence a portion of our yard into a goat pen. I've found a fence I love and a company in town who can build it.  Now to find out how much said fence will cost and then try not to pass out on the spot (i.e. I suspect this might be beyond my budget).

In the meantime I plan to construct a small fence around the chicken coop to test my post-digging skills. I've already been informed I am 100% on my own for this project and any subsequent larger fencing projects I might tackle.  I figure every girl should learn to build a fence and every boy should learn to cook.  This way I'm just holding up my end of the bargin and if dinner doesn't quite make it onto the table?  Well not my problem.

Of course I'd also want a shed; both for milking and for shelter.  Something like this would do. I expect I'll be exhausted after my fence building adventures and might not be up for building a shed.  I've already made some inquiries and may be able to bribe an ex-neighbor with my culinary prowess; will cook for shed.  Then again I might find myself out there on my own trying to make sense of building plans.  Time will tell.

So, if you see me out in the yard, sweating like a pig and cursing under my breath, you'll know just what I'm doing.  I'll be dreaming.  Dreaming of blue-eyed babies, sweet little mwaaas and fresher than fresh milk.  I'll be taking a step closer to my own food production and a subsequent step away from the industrial food machine (all while living in the city).  And I'll be dreaming of the day Mr. Peculiar admits that I was, and always have been, right.



...iph... said...

Sometimes I think the adult you would be happiest as the child me. Seriously--the little hippie farm I grew up on? One of our goats was named Buttercup. I kid you not. (Good name for a goat.)

Wishing you luck and love with your mission, my dear! (And I'm also dreaming of the day everyone admits that I am and have been right all along. Hee!)

..iph... said...

...And also? Baby you with goats? MONSTER CUTE. Love these. :)

Theresa said...

Wow, you have some serious aspirations. Digging post holes is no mean feat. I watched my husband dig about 60 of them about 10 years ago. If it were now, he would be in the ICU :) You will need to find someone with an auger.

There is a goat farm not too far from my house. There are about 50 small goats. Probably half are babies........too adorable!!!! They also have one lone Llama. Not sure what the deal is there, but it makes for a cute farm scene.

I tried goat milk once in 1985 when my mother(who knows why) decided to buy some. YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can still remember the taste all these years later. Then again, maybe now that I pay for my own milk, free goat milk might taste pretty darn good.

Love your blog, so real and unpretentious.