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Archive for July 12th, 2008

Jul
12

Kids Today

Since our visit to choose our first goats, I’ve been trying to impress upon Coco the urgency of our situation. As the resident livestock guardian dog in charge of the goats’ very lives, she plays an important role. We have a mother goat coming now. With two very young babies. We have a lot to learn, and quickly. Do you hear that, Coco?





We need to make sure we have the appropriate housing, fencing, pasture, gates, and latches. We need a manger, Coco. A manger sounds like it should be a crib for a tiny angel, but it’s actually a type of feeding bin designed to keep goats from wasting or contaminating their hay. It’s a neat word, though, isn’t it, Coco? Manger. I like that word.





We need to feed them right, Coco, so we will have good milk from Clover and so the babies will grow up big and strong. They need a mixture of pasture, hay, and grain, and for good milk production, Clover needs extra protein.

Are you getting all this, Coco?





They’ll need immunizations and injections and hoof-cleaning. Goats are among the healthiest and hardiest domestic animals, but it’s our job to maintain their natural state of good health with proper care and management, Coco.





We’re going to need a good milking pail and a strainer, Coco, and we’re going to have to figure out how to milk and then how to make goat cheese. And not just cheese but cream, yogurt, ice cream, fudge, pudding, and more. We can make it all with goat’s milk, Coco! Not to mention soap! But before we can do any of that, the book says somebody has to wash the udder. I’m going to need some emotional support here, Coco.

Coco?

Are you paying attention, Coco? The goats are coming soon, Coco! This is important! It’s a big responsibility!





COCO!!!!

Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink  

More posts you might enjoy:


Jul
12

A Chicken in the Road


Not mine, but I love it anyway.

Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink  

More posts you might enjoy:





The Slanted Little House

"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....



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November 2009
"First it's glowing, then it's snowing! A pause, then screaming squalls and williwaws. Bright but bitter, then a thaw. Yet again it's cold and storming: What ever happened to global warming?"


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