Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Gearing Up For Goats
For about a month now I've been mowing our lawn, and it has proven to be more of a challenge than I suspected. If it rains on Sunday, I don't get the lawn mowed. If I have other commitments--like my aunt's 60th birthday party--on Sunday, I don't get the lawn mowed. It has to be Sunday. Sunday is Daddy Day--no additional babysitter required!
(Those of you who have been following along may recall my last blog on this topic. For those of you who missed it, here it is: https://kcastrataro.blogspot.com/2016/05/mowing-lawn-cutting-grass-its-all-pain.html)
You should have seen me this Sunday: go to church, pack kids off with Daddy, mow the lawn, attend the pastor's daughter's amazing voice recital, have the audacity to chat afterwards, go home to find kids and ex home, mow the lawn, get called in for bedtime routine, go back out to finish the lawn, come in hating life!
That was the last straw. I decided that I, like everyone else in creation, deserved a day of rest. Mowing the lawn wasn't it. Ergo, we're getting goats.
This may have been a big leap for some people, but it was a pretty small hop for me. After Ranita was born, my ancient, fabulous Belgian draught horse died, leaving me with a Standardbred I had adopted as a "pasture buddy" . . . who then needed a "pasture buddy" of his own. Another horse was NOT in the cards at that time.
Enter Jack-Jack. My wonderful Pastor and his wife had an extra goat kicking around and were more than happy to let us "borrow" him indefinitely. He was really a great buddy. Kid Cobra had never really gotten along with my horse Dave, but he LOVED Jack-Jack. Everyone was happy.
Until I got pregnant the second time. For many reasons--my pregnancy health and our finances being just a couple--it seemed best to empty the barn. So we did. Kid Cobra went back to the Retirement Foundation (which was one of the hardest things I'd ever done) and Pastor sent Jack-Jack somewhere else.
All this to say, replacing my lawn mower with a couple goats actually makes sense for me. I have experience thanks to Jack-Jack (not to mention the one we briefly had when I was a kid who broke his leg jumping in a wheelbarrow . . . ).
Goats are cheap: you can feed them for MONTHS off one bag of grain, a decent pasture (which I have!), and a few bales of hay (which I don't . . . yet). They are small, so my little ones can be with me while I do chores (as opposed to mowing the lawn, which they can't).
These goats will also help fulfill a longing I've always had for my children: they will get a taste of what it's like to grow up on a farm. My ex considers himself a farmer (he's a nurseryman), and that is true in a sense. But there's a special something that happens when you grow up with livestock.
Animals need you every day, twice a day. You have to be responsible to them. You have to put them first, in some senses. And they can be so darned cute! In short, you learn the mixed blessings of having something depend on you and only you. It's a good thing. (Should I again remind myself we already have 2 dogs and 2 fish? And the fish get fed 3 times a day?)
So today my children and I started fixing fence. If goats were horses, I'd be done already. One or two strands of electric fence, and most horses will stay in forever. Not so with goats. To keep Jack-Jack in the pasture and away from our assortment of attractive--and toxic--landscape plants required a 5-strand electric fence starting a couple inches off the ground.
Our fence has not been maintained in over 2 years, so I have a bit of a project ahead of me. Again, this is a project my children can participate in . . . as long as I don't mind picking ticks off them each night! The first section was in much better shape than I anticipated.
The rest, however, is pretty abominable. You can probably look forward to hearing about me cutting through bittersweet, chopping up pine and Russian olives that have fallen on the fence, and navigating a literal ocean of poison ivy that my Dave-horse once had completely cleared up.
The funny thing is that I still believe this will end up being easier and more beneficial than mowing the lawn. (No wonder my husband left me!)
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No. Your ex certainly did not leave you because you prefer goats to lawn mowers.
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing more salutary then listening to the soft pull-and-pop of a goat wrapping its tongue around grass and pulling it out, then chewing it slowly and deliberately. When I'm stressed out with this modern world of frenetic technology, I go and listen to my goats eating, and wonder at their ability to savor what is good, true, and simple.
You have a love for the way God made things, for the poetic symbiosis of His cosmos. You also demonstrate a remarkable initiative and diligence in cultivating that beauty, down to the number of strands on an electric fence.
For those who are wise in counsel, and can appreciate the true beauty of creation, your "hard-headed" quest to put goats on the pasture has a magnetizing pull, not a repulsive effect. You are captivating...a dream on the order of Psalm 126...
There are some in this world who would prize you like Wisdom: far more than rubies and gold.
Those who have eyes, but do not see; and ears but do not hear, and do not appreciate your beauty--such persons are of little worth (Prov 10:20). "The darkness has not understood it," i.e. the light. Darkness needs no reason to reject light, and light gives no reason for rejection. Why do you persist in trying to see yourself through another's blind eyes?
Your theology is indeed challenged by syncretism with moralism and humanism. Ditch the latter two and see your experience through the purity of Scripture, which presents your ex clearly in light of John 17 and Psalms 35 & 69. "Every word of God is flawless." Not so the wisdom of this world.
That charming deceiver, who masqueraded as light, will never understand you, nor indeed can he. Stop holding on to a dark shroud by trying to enumerate a chain of reasoning which does not exist.
Let your light shine, and listen to those who appreciate you--who can reasonably explain why, and yet appreciate you beyond reason. "The heart has reasons which reason cannot understand."