It’s no secret that life is a smidge crazy around here. Or maybe it’s just me that’s crazy?
Either way, I’ve made some choices to help reduce the crazy.
Last month we gave away 14 hens and two roosters. Sunday we’ll give away one of our goats. And even though we’re a few months too early, we’re going to have Harry butchered.
He’s turned into a creep, and no one feels safe in the pasture with him. Hazel, our baby goat, will occasionally get her head stuck in the fence, and Harry uses this time to ram her with his horns. Repeatedly. It’s awful. And she just cries until I am able to get her free.
Sometimes we can be in the pasture and Harry pays us no mind, other times, though – he’s scary and aggressive.
It’s time to go, Harry. I can’t deal with you anymore.
We’ll be down to two goats, two cows, and 29 chickens. That feels less crazy to me. That feels normal.
I have been close to getting rid of all the animals more times than I care to admit. While a farm has been my dream since childhood, unless a kid has worked a farm, they don’t know the hard work that it is. I feel like I’m drowning in the work.
And drowning is not my favorite.
I will start here. With the goat and with Harry. We’ll see if that brings the stress level down a notch. If it doesn’t, then maybe it’s time to just be a cat and dog family.
Normally I would feel like a failure, but I refuse to look at that way this time. I have tried, and I have done well. But it is a lot. A lot more than I ever anticipated.
And I’m tired.
I want to enjoy evenings and weekends at my house without the constant rush of fixing or building a fence. Or rescuing a dumb baby goat from an even dumber Jersey steer. I want to be able to go away for a night or three without paying someone to wrangle the mess.
It has been fun, and it has been rewarding, but it has been tiring.
And I just don’t think I’m strong enough to do this much longer.