Contentment

As I stand here on this overcast yet pleasant day, sipping my Perfectly Pumpkin coffee, I am reminded what contentment is.

It isn't sitting in front of the tv watching reruns, soaps, or movies...although tv time definitely has it's place.

It isn't playing on the computer, surfing the net, or shopping 'til you drop.

I guess it all depends on your perspective.

I'm pretty sure this is it.

Standing outside on a cool day in padded overalls and a flannel shirt (yes...that is what I said) drinking delicious coffee while hearing the faint tinkle of the bells on the collars of our goats.

Our little herd is making it's daily trek around our small acreage, picking and choosing which delightful morsels they feel like nibbling on. It must be like an all-you-can-eat buffet for them.

Bailey is running around in true dog nirvana....digging holes and chasing imaginary (or just well-hidden) creatures just beneath the soil.

Hamlet is rooting around in the dirt and grass looking for who-knows-what....grubs, maybe?

I can hear the hum of the fan in the grain bin that belongs to the farmer whose property adjoins ours.

The birds are even chirping as if to say, "It was worth it! You were right to make this life choice!"

Ah...contentment...

Wait....my coffee's gone. Crap.

Goats! Hey, goats!!! Come back here!! You CAN'T get on the roof of the car!!!!

Bailey!!! I just gave you a bath!!!! Why are you covered in mud?! Oh, wait....that is NOT mud....

Won't that darn grain bin ever stop making that hideous noise?!?! It just buzzes constantly!!!!!!

What are you birds chirping about?????? Isn't it time for you to fly South???

Hamlet!!! ACK!!! Hamlet!!!!! What are you doing?!?! Hamlet, get off of Bailey's head!!!!! STOP HUMPING THE DOG!!!!!!!!

Yep....contentment.....

It all depends on your perspective....

I'm glad I can CHOOSE which perspective to have.
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Hamlet, the Talking Pig

We had no idea.

When we went to the Humane Society to pick up the potbellied pig that had been relinquished by the owner, we thought we were getting an ordinary potbellied pig.

Silly us.

Haven't we learned by now that NOTHING that joins our family is ever ordinary?

Hamlet talks.

Seriously. He talks. Unfortunately, he usually only talks when he is protesting.

For example, last night I put Bailey's dog food (which Hamlet loves) in the laundry room for her to eat. I put Hamlet's pig food (which he does NOT love) in the kitchen for him to eat. Smart plan, right? Thank you.

It worked for about three minutes. Until Hamlet paused in snarfing his food (even though he doesn't like it) long enough to hear Bailey crunching on hers.

His ears perked up. His head tilted to the side. And he was gone. That chubby, short-legged little creature can really move when food is being eaten by someone else!

As he ran, he grunted, as if to say, "You people tried to trick me! Gave me the disgusting pig food and gave HER the yummy dog food! No fair!" (No, that is not the talking I was referring to...)

I race to try to block him, but that little pig zoomed right past me. By the time I reached the laundry room, he was standing on his hind legs (so he could reach Bailey's food bowl) chowing down. All the while, he is saying, "Num num num num. Num num num num."

Seriously. Just like that.

I tell him to leave Bailey's food alone, and I give him a little prod with my foot to get his attention. He does not pause his eating. However, the "num num" changed to "no no."

"No no no no! No no no no!"

"Hamlet, come on. You have to eat your pig food!"

"No no no no!" Then, since he obviously thinks the matter is closed, he goes back to "Num num num num."

I lean down to pick him up. He SCREAMS "Yiiiiiii! Nooo nooo nooo nooo!" He continues to snarf.

Unabashed, I firmly put my hands around his chubby little body. As I start to pick him up, he screams again, "Yiiiiii!!!!!! Noooooo nooooo nooooo nooooo!"

Too bad, so sad. I'm bigger, so I carry him to the kitchen. I gently plop (Yes, plops can be gentle!) him down in front of his bowl. He snorts in obvious disgust, turns towards the laundry room, and is gone in a flash.

I am quicker this time. I get in front of him and block his path. He protests loudly.

"No no no no!" he insists. "No no no no!"

As he tries to dart past me, I stick my foot out to block him. More protests. "No no no no! No no no no!"

I shut the door to the laundry room. He stands by the door, his snout running along the bottom, saying quietly, "No no no no." Then he grunts as he walks back to his pig food.

Grumbling, he finishes eating his disgusting pig food. Then, he goes and hides under the table, pouting. He murmurs under his breath as he gives me the evil eye. (He has two different color eyes. I'm pretty sure his evil one is the one that is this odd ghostly shade of grayish blue...)

I ignore him.

Finally, Bailey finished eating. She scratched at the door to let me know (since she is NOT a talking dog), and I open the door to let her out.

Hamlet has been waiting for this moment.

Before you can say "piggy piggy," he is across the room. As he runs past me, I swear it sounded like he was snorting with laughter!

He runs to the dog food bowl saying "Num num num num!"

He stand up, braces himself with his front hooves, and looks in....at an empty bowl. He squeals in displeasure.

"No no no no!!! No no no no!!!"

He turns to look at me. As he drops to all fours and walks away in defeat, he clearly says, "Mom mom mom mom...."

I thought it was just my imagination until Zach said, "Did he just call you Mom?"

Hamlet looked up at me and sniffed in utter disbelief.

"Hamlet...you're supposed to eat pig food."

"Mom mom mom mom," he said, shaking his head as he walked away, dejected. "No no no no."

"Hamlet...."

He simply snorted.

I think he's giving me the silent treatment.

At least until it's time for breakfast.
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Old McGottlieb Had a Farm

The farm continues to expand.

We have two more goats--a total of five now: Arugula, Basil, Clover, Dill, and Donahue. I know what you're thinking: Donahue isn't a vegetable or an herb and it doesn't start with the letter E.

Well, that's true, but apparently Donahue already knew his name. He's over two years old and is a very regal looking myotonic (fainting) goat with some pretty massive horns.

We thought about naming him Endive (get it? EnDIVE??) but for now, we're still calling him Donahue. Though, by all rights, it should be DonaPU! He smells really bad. Did you know that bucks have scent glads that excrete a horrible stench that female goats apparently find irresistable? Yeah...me either. I know now, though.

Anyway, Donahue joined the herd, along with an adorable little three month old fainter/pygmy cross. He's an adorable little buckling. He doesn't stink. Yet. He follows Donahue around, running underneath his legs whenever Bailey gets too close. Donahue seems to like little Dill. I've started thinking of them as "the double Ds."

We also added an adorable little potbellied pig named Hamlet that we got from the Humane Society. He's a sweet little guy who is 8 months old and weighs around 18 pounds right now. He does seem a little confused, however. He apparently thinks he's a dog....which balances out Bailey well because she has apparently decided that she is a pig.

We go outside every morning to let the goats browse, and Bailey makes a beeline straight to the recently cleared cornfield. After the recent rains, they are mudfields. She wallows. Seriously. Face first.

Hamlet runs after her squealing and grunting to show his displeasure that his girlfriend has run off without him. Bailey pretty much ignores him while she digs a hole big enough to insert her head.
She convinced him to dig with her one day. He rooted around in the mud and ended up with a bad case of the sniffles. I don't think he liked it very much. He's back to rooting around in the grass.

Hamlet doesn't like his pig chow. He wants dog food. Bailey, on the other hand, wants dog food, cat food, goat food, and bird food. She does NOT like the pig chow either. I'm thinking it must taste pretty nasty if Bailey won't eat it!

Other than these new additions, we also seem to have a limitless supply of mice. Baxter is having a fine time being a hunter on the prowl again. It's made him young again.

However, it's making me feel old. For example, I decided to take a nap the other day. Baxter apparently thought I was under the weather, so he decided to bring me a gift. Yep. A mouse.

But apparently, freshness counts. He brought to me alive and squirming. Then dropped it. On the bed. Where I was trying to sleep.

Needless to say, I wasn't very sleepy after that.

I appreciated the gesture and all, but really....couldn't he have killed it first? Or at least dropped it on the floor?

Ah....life in the country. The adventure continues.
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The Adventure Has Begun

Well, we finally found our house in the country. A little less than three acres, but we got a great deal on the house! It needs some work, and since we are pretty much broke, I've been doing a lot of the repairs myself. I figure that's part of the adventure, right?

So far I have installed a new kitchen faucet, repaired two leaky toilets, and I have learned to spackle and sand the walls to hide the damage that was inflicted by my over-zealous offspring while they were "helping" by removing old wallpaper. Apparently, I failed to tell them to stop when they reached the sheet rock. Oh well...live and learn.

We have also added three new goats to our little piece of paradise. We acquired two of them yesterday--a nubian/boer cross named Arugula and a nubian named Basil. (We're going to an ABC order veggie/herb theme. Don't ask me why. I don't really know.) They are loads of fun! They really gave Bailey a fun time....well, they were trying to head butt her, but she THOUGHT it was a fun time... It's all fun and games until someone gets gored, right?

Today, we added goat number three. That means a "C" name. Clove....Cabbage....Cinnamon...(Hmmm....technically, that's a tree, isn't it?) I'm just not sure. Goat #3 is a La Mancha who is about 8 months old. She's black and white.
Oh, I forgot to mention that Basil is already giving milk....which is very odd since she reportedly has never been bred. Apparently, she's a "precocious milker." I just think she's weird. Fits in with the rest of us just fine!

What else?

Oh yes....the ladies (also known as goats) escaped from the barn today when no one was home. At least they stayed close around the house. I was pleasantly surprised at that!

Arugula is apparently the Goat Queen. She will allow Basil to eat with her, but poor #3 (I MUST name her!) doesn't stand a chance! She moves to the feeding trough and Arugula runs over and head-butts her away. Poor baby. So, she tends to follow me around and hide behind my legs. Hopefully Queen Arugula will settle down soon....

Well, I'm off to google alphabetical lists of herbs and veggies.... Poor #3 simply must have a name....

Maybe then the Queen will allow her to eat. But I doubt it.
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Moooo.....

Mike is itching to move.

Don't get me wrong. I'm excited too. I wish we didn't have to wait on appraisers, bankers, or realtors. But I am trying to handle it with patience.

Mike....well, he's not that patient.

After dinner this evening, he proposed a drive into the country to look at the house. So we loaded up the kids in the Big Bus and headed towards the house.

It was still there. (Surprised?) We even got out and walked around the edge of the yard for a few minutes, letting the kids breathe in the clean, fresh air. They wanted to know what the smell was. LOL. (That's clean air, kids!)

On the way home, I decided to take a nap. I drifted off to sleep to the sounds of laughter and the hum of the van's motor.

I woke up to the sound of "Moooooo!" I noticed we weren't moving anymore. I heard "Mooooooo!" again. I cautiously opened my eyes.

At first, I thought I was dreaming. But this was no dream.

We were pulled over beside a field, and my husband and children were mooing at a small herd of cattle. The cows seemed fascinated by this. They were standing around the fence, staring at us.

Geez.

I looked around, hoping not to see an angry farmer headed our way. Whew. All clear.

I can't help but wonder what life is going to be like on our little patch of land. Will we follow through with all the plans we have? Or, like a child who grabs a huge piece of cake after a big dinner, will we discover that our eyes are bigger than our stomachs?

One thing's for sure....the cows won't be bored. They'll have built in entertainment in us.

Mooooo.......
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In the Beginning

In the beginning, there was a family who lived in town. The seven children rushed to and fro....playing softball, baseball, and volleyball. They attended Girl Scouts meetings. They went to afterschool programs. They were busy. Too busy.

The parents grew weary of the constant noise, the police sirens, and the speeding cars. They wanted a different life for their kids. They didn't want their children to grow up in the midst of gangs, drugs, and crime.

So they moved to the country.

This is their story.