morning at the barn

Early rising children interrupted my barn plan at 6AM this morning, which meant that I was going to go straight to work FROM the barn. The traffic God was smiling on me this morning because for a rainy morning, there was hardly a snarl in the journey! The kids and Phoenix were a lot of fun to hang out with as they were penned up all night in the stall and entertained by the buttons on my jacket.

Starting the day this way brings me such happiness, which I realize is rather odd. I get to spend so much more time with the human kids before work as well as love all over my goat and goat kids and Ruby before I enter the chaos of the day.

LETS GO, LETS GO!

Last night, I took Sophia to the barn with me to take care of our goats, despite the rain.

That child thinks that rain means that she gets to have even MORE fun at the barn because she can get even dirtier! She wore black tights, her "ballerina" pink dress, and her ladybug raincoat and pink boots. It was hard not to splash in the mud puddles with her becuase she really was having a blast.

While Sophia was splishing and splashing, I was half-heartedly chasing down a sopping wet goat to milk, while trying to ignore the bleating calls for love/food from the stall wherein the BAYBAY Goats lay dry and warm.

LETS GO PHOENIX! LETS GO! Phoenix doesn't usually run from me, but she seemed to have an idea that I had grain for BAYBAY Goats as well as for her. I could see her brain scheming to heck, why not try to make me fall down into the mud so she could eat the grain without the bother of getting in the milking stand??

After remembering that Phoenix would ultimately follow me out to the milking stand since I did indeed still hold the grain (DUH), LETS GO, I marched out of the paddock with her close at my heels.

Once I got her head locked into the stand and her udders completely sanitized, I realized, of course, I didn't have my dang milking bucket!!! I remembered that I had a glass milk container in the tack room, so I ran around like a mad woman trying to get into the room and back out before Phoenix finished her grain. Once she finishes eating, she starts kicking like crazy to get me off her udders. And it is not pretty or fun, and I am totally out of bribing peppermints.

In order to use the glass bottle as a container, I literally milked one udder at a time aiming (most) of the milk into the bottle. This alone was making me laugh until it started raining, pouring actually, and then I was starting to sound a little hysterical. Sophia abandoned me for the drier option of the baby chicks stall.

I finally got Phoenix all milked out and we both bolted for the barn, completely soaked. I dumped some of the milk into a container for the chicks, and then started the begging to my daughter to LETS GO LETS GO so we could start our journey home.

LETS GO LETS GO in Sophia's mind means saying goodbye to and touching each one of her favorite animals (Stanley the Megahorse, RubyRube, CandyCandyWhyYouBuggin', Chilly Willy, all three goats, and about 14 out of the 30 chicks). I actually enjoy this part of the night because I too get to love on all these awesome animals that make our lives pretty darn special.

LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO - finally headed home, we sang "Need You Now" and "Forever Young." I got out of the car to unsnap Sophia from the car seat, and I dropped the glass bottle of milk onto the driveway and of course it went UNDER my car!

Fabulous! Not only was I now without the stinkin' milk I carefully got into the bottle one udder at a time, but now there were GLASS SHARDS all over my driveway.

My lovely husband did come out to help me clean up the damage IN THE RAIN no less, so I couldn't really complain.

This morning, more rain.

Phoenix and the BAYBAY goats were in the stall overnight to avoid getting wet, so the routine went quickly. I actually remembered my milking bucket but forgot to bring plastic wrap to put over the top so that the milk wouldn't slosh out from under the lid when I was driving.

Got the milk home, only wearing half of it all over my jacket.

Live and learn, Devine.

Baby chicks gobbling up the goats milk. =)

More GOAT

Baby Bluebirds

Bluebirds just hatched in the neighbor's birdhouse. Awesome!

Cheese, Not.

This weekend was the first time I was to unveil my cheese at a party in my neighborhood.

Live and learn, Devine:

Apparently, Chevre culture (or whatever it is called) dies after a certain amount of time. Therefore, I had nothing to work with minus a clump or two of overachieving molecules.

I will admit that I almost caved and purchased factory made goat cheese to hide my failure, but my sweaty palms in the store were an obvious sign that I couldn't pull off the lie without incessant giggling (which would only add to my usual weirdness) and sweating.

I finally just returned the cheese back to its rightful shelf and accepted my cheesy defeat.

And really...So WHAT if the whole neighborhood thinks that my insanity is a reality now that I can't even produce anything edible to support my boring-ass goat stories??

Oh, and they do think I am nuts. If only for purchasing a home in our "low maintenance lifestyle" and "exclusive" community when we probably should have bought a freaking farm to maintain all of the animals I keep adding to the family. But I could see it in their eyes when they asked me about how my riding was going, which led into the goats, and eventually into the tons of baby chicks I am sharing with The Fearless Barn Owner. You know, your average cup o' crazy!

Thus far, I have been milking twice a day. The amount our mama Phoenix has been producing is impressive - I am getting about a gallon a day! We drink some, freeze some, share some with Tank the three-legged-dog, and maybe if the stars are aligned and I click my heels three times, make some amazing cheese. I just wish I could manage my entire Goat Milk Game Plan a little better so I didn't have to "waste" so much milk. The barn cats and baby chicks are enjoying their portions, though, and there is something peaceful about that aspect.

City Mouse, Country Mouse

In the Summer of 2008, our family made the lifesyle-altering decision to move from Baltimore City to Havre de Grace, MD.

The ways in which our family and life has blossomed since this move is far beyond even what I could ever have hoped. We are truly lucky to be here.

Havre de Grace has the benefit of not being a suburb of Baltimore. This lovely harbor stands tall on its as true Maryland country and farm land. It should not have been a surprise when almost immediately after we moved here, I stumbled upon an opportunity to rekindle my teenage dreams of hanging around a barn with lots of horses.

This introduction came by way of my babysitter. Upon her first assignment with us, she announced that her parents had purchased a horse for her that same day. Well, of course I had to go and see the horse. Duh.

From the first whiff of hay and livetocky smells after entering the gate at The Barn, I knew I was going to have my own horse. I had no idea how but I knew I would. And soon enough, I wedged myself into The Barn's family, incorporating horses into the already full mix of two amazing and incredibly young children, my (fabulous) marriage, work, laundry x4, and a crappy car.

The Time Had Come.

And looking back, that was the moment I finally gave into some of my inner crazy.

When I was a teen, I volunteered at a local 4-H club in St. Petersburg that provided equine therapy classes for handicapped teens. I would do anything the club asked me to do to help prepare for the class, just so I could smell the horses and maybe have the chance to walk the horse around to warm up before the therapy class would begin. On the ride home from the stable I would secretly sniff my hand and inhale the last scents of the horse I tended to that morning, and try not to wash that hand all day. I would ride my ten speed to middle school and pretend it was my horse, and daydream about flying down Tyrone Boulevard on my white stallion, showing those mean girls who was cool. I read about horses, cleaned up after horses, and became possessed with the need to tell everyone about my obsession. In my high school years, there was a brief stint with illegal entries into a small local rodeo...but really, that had zilch to do with horses and mostly to do with stupid teenage bravado. But it still involved horses, and cowboys. Cowboys that had horses.

So after meeting my babysitter's horse many years later, I hatched The Equine Plan.

First, I signed up for English riding lessons, strutting around in my half-chaps as if I knew what I was doing. Next I partially leased one of the farm's beginner horses and tried to figure out how to ride and raise a family. (I still haven't really figured this out to this day) There were many bumps and loads of patience from one of the kindest men on earth, my husband. Later came a fully-leased horse named Hero that broke my heart in more complicated ways than I could ever express adequately.

Which brings me to my current equine partner, Ruby in the Rough (or "Ruby Rube" as my daughter calls her). Ruby is an absolute nice fit for me physically, and she matches my freckles. She is a sweet animal, and although it took some time to iron out our differences, I am enjoying her partnership.

Of course I couldn't leave that harmony alone. Its never been my style to just let things be. No - whenever things are going great, I have this insatiable need to kick it up a few notches to the What IF category. One awful rainy January afternoon, I randomly picked up a book about goats in my local library and became overwhelmed with the desire to raise dairy goats alongside Ruby Rube.

4 months later, my trainer (friend, barn maven, and fearless animal leader) hitched the trailer to her Blazer one April morning, and we were off to pick up a grown milker goat named Phoenix and two goat kids (one doe kids named La Reina and a wether boy kid named Pie Dude).

First thing I noticed is how incredibly vocal my new friends were. I was sure we somehow accidentally packed in a preschool classroom into the trailer with the goats. It was a cacophony of octaves like I have never heard. And later that afternoon, I learned how incredibly entertaining these noisy goats were. Goat kids are hands down the most entertaining mammals EVER.

The new adventures have begun.