Goat quote...

My daughter offered to cook supper for our family last night. She invited her boyfriend to join us. Rachel is a natural cook, intuitively adding seasonings that would never occur to me, and creating delicious taste sensations.  She planned on cooking some goat chops, which made me a little worried. 

Several years ago I bought some very expensive goat chops at the local farmers market. We had never tried goat,and thought it would be a good idea to taste it because we were planning to butcher a buckling.  I cooked the chops carefully.  My husband, who has eaten my cooking for over 30 years with never a complaint, literally spit the meat out of his mouth.  He ended up eating a peanut butter sandwich for supper and we thought we just didn't like goat meat. I sold the buckling instead of putting him in the freezer.

 This fall our daughter had a young goat butchered and she has so far cooked goat shanks, (with Italian flavorings) and an Indian inspired curried leg roast. Both were slow cooked, highly seasoned and delicious.  But those chops had me concerned, due to our unhappy earlier taste of them.

She looked up some recipes, and then added her own spin, rubbing the chops with herbs and olive oil.  She cooked them up hot and fast.

I shouldn't have worried.  They were delicious. Tender, moist, and flavorful.  Her boyfriend cleaned his plate then said, "I never thought I'd be eating so much GOAT."  Neither did we, but we find we like it quite a lot!

New/old hobby...

When I was in high school I took a sewing class and loved it. The beautiful fabric, the magic of the machine joining pieces together, the fun of creating, all of it.  I learned to put in zippers and create button holes, I made myself a cranberry wool skirt and was so pleased! I stitched several quilts, too.
Then I got busy with life and my poor sewing machine languished. I finally gave it away to a teenage girl who had big aspirations and little cash.

Last year I was given a beautiful, new, modern sewing machine. I stitched up one little craft project and that was the extent of my efforts.  So when my daughter suggested that we take a sewing class at the local high school I thought it was an excellent idea.  We became more familiar with our wonderful sewing machines (she has one just like mine,) and last week we actually completed a delightful project...

Pillows!  I found happy fabric that looks like a wildflower garden. We created our own pattern under the watchful eye of our instructor, and beneath my hands the machine magically whipped up these gems.  Much of it came back to me, the rhythm of the work had a lovely familiarity.  It was such fun to be there, on a cold and rainy night, creating.

In the hall of the school an excited woman showed off an amazing basket she had made in her class, and the air was scented with cooking food from another room where a group of laughing people were experimenting with some new recipes.  I think I'll need to take more of these classes. Who knows what new/old hobby I can discover next?

Road trip...

Chris and I enjoy going for a drive in the country together, and today we did just that, with a little purpose.

We headed towards Fryeburg, a lovely trip past woods, rivers, and lakes and into the White Mountains.  We stopped and had a little breakfast first, and eventually ended up in Stow.

We went to meet someone.

A lovely lady, named Bandit.

An English Shepherd, carrying puppies. I wanted to meet her to see if a pup of hers might be a pleasant addition to our little farmlette. Calm, elegant, and obviously very intelligent, she made an excellent impression on us.

She hopped up into my truck, hoping we might take her for a ride.  I hope she was not too disappointed when we politely refused.  With any luck, however, we'll bring one of her puppies for a ride in May!  

Signs of spring...

Vernal equinox is a mere two weeks from today.  Last year this day in March found us surrounded in snow.  Today was cold, but there is no snow to be seen.  When I did chores this morning it was 17 degrees. I accidentally got my gloves wet while watering the animals, and that was regrettable.  Despite the chill, there are hints of spring all around us.

Among the brown shades of dirt and leaves, chives are poking up in the garden.

To my delight, daffodils are braving the season as well.

There is open water where last year it was hard as iron.

And joy!

The Canada geese are here, maybe headed for more southern climes, or maybe here to stay.  Either way, its a good sign.

My friend reports that one of her sheep lambed today. Yes, spring is coming, rich with new life and possibilities.  If I had to choose a favorite time of year, this would be it.

A nod to my childhood...

I had a dream last night that Chris and I were moving into an enormous house on the ocean.  It had a big swimming pool, and each room was marvelously decorated, though not to my personal taste.  I had mixed feelings, in my dream, about moving to this house, which was so large I couldn't even find all the rooms.  I have had similar dreams in the past, but last nights house was different.  At the end of the dream, which came to me just in the moments before dawn, I had a very clear image of my mother.  She was sitting down, wearing her favorite turquoise blue shirt.  Her head was turned towards her right shoulder, looking at me.  A meaningful glance.  And then, in the way of dreams, poof! She was gone. 

She was around 55 years old in that dream glimpse, and looked strong, healthy and fit. All day long I've been thinking about that peek I had of her, and wondering if there was some message she was trying to pass on.  Some say that we are open to visits and messages from those who have passed on in the moments before we wake.  But I digress. 

While I worked today, and thought about dreams and my mom, I also thought about my childhood. 
If you were to ask me, I would tell you I had a happy youth. 

The youngest of 5 kids, I was doted on by my siblings, and I grew up feeling well-loved.  We had a nice home, a marvelous swimming pool and several acres to play on. Best of all, my parents let me have pets. We always had a dog or two, and I had a long list of personal pets. It started with a yellow canary in a domed gold cage. He was my 6th birthday present and I named him, "Peep."  He delighted me, lovely in his sunny window, singing a breath-taking song. There were turtles the size of quarters in a plastic bowl with a plastic palm tree, parakeets that I trained to fly to me when I raised my index finger and held it out for them to perch on.  There were hamsters, gerbils, friendly guinea pigs, an unfortunate lizard, and mice, (no matter how often I cleaned their home, they made my bedroom smell terrible.)  For a long span of time I kept multiple aquariums. Some with tropical fish and others with fancy goldfish. I loved them all, and no day was ever happier than a day that a  new pet arrived. 

In the above picture I was 8 years old.  Crazy for animals, even then.  Fast forward to today, when each morning begins with me up and out the front door before I am fully awake.  My dogs follow me, and in a moment I am alive with the dawning day.  The weather, the sun rise, the scent of the air, the very earth beneath my feet jars me into the joy of being.It is the most wonderful way to begin a day.

And then there are the animals. Goats at the gate, waiting for breakfast and milking.  The horse at the fence, impatient for her grain.  The chickens and ducks, waiting to be released from the safety of their coops. When I open their doors they race out. SO much to do, and see, and eat.  And I am there to witness them embracing their next adventure. 

Chris often asks, when he sees my joy during times I interact with my animals, "What would 8 year old Daryl have thought of this..?"

I can answer that question easily.  Eight year old Daryl would have been in a delirious hurry to grow up. And she would have wanted to live right here in this old house, and spend her days with animals.  It's a dream.

Friends farm...

My friend let me come to her farm today to photograph her sheep. They are due to lamb in the next few days. These girls are epically pregnant. Huge, and unwieldy.  They look like this every year. In seasons past I have gotten better photographs of how enormous they really look. This year they were not cooperative with me. Each time I framed them up in my viewfinder, with their bellies captured to show the enormity of it all, they pivoted and moved.  But I enjoyed seeing them, even if I was not able to capture a photograph that would show exactly how impressive they look.  Beach balls on toothpicks.

They spend their day in the winter pasture, eating their fill of good hay, and snoozing in the sun.  At night they are moved to the barn, and soon they will stay there until they lamb.  Today was unseasonably warm, and the sheep, heavy with lambs, stayed outside, quiet and close to the food.

They were curious about me.

This girl approached, sniffed, made firm eye contact, and "baaahhhhed" at me.

Then she smiled.  She knows things that I do not know.  Soon life will emerge from her body, and she will turn the spring grass into milk to feed that life. And her lamb will grow to become a sheep.  Hopefully next year that lamb will be ripe and heavy with new life.  And I will come on a fine early spring day and take her picture.  Then I will share it with you. The circle of blog. And of life. And of sheep. 

The signs of spring are showing.  Daffodil sprouts in the garden, round, heavy, ewes, and longer days.  Life on and around farms is where one can see the seasons send the tendrils of change.  It is all good.

Morning in the pasture...

I took my camera outside with me this morning while I was doing chores.

An enormous Raven swooped in, calling, "Cronk!  Cronk!" and dined on some treasure near where Jane Doe and her mama, Celeste, were lounging. 

All the girls gathered around the hay pile for a friendly, communal breakfast.

I am very pleased with the chickens I raised last spring. They are Light Brahmas, and I find them to be particularly attractive. They have been laying eggs all winter, which delights me. I love the look of them, with their big, fluffy feet.  They are very large birds, notice how big the rooster is compared to the 150 pound goat in this picture below.

I am not sure exactly what they are finding to eat on the barren looking winter pasture. They take very little of the chicken food I provide for them, yet still roost at night with their crops bulging full of whatever it is they dine on.  I love to watch them ranging around, scratching and pecking, then moving on, all in a group, to explore some other area that might have tasty tidbits. They cover a lot of ground during the course of a day, and I imagine they rest well when they finally tuck themselves up at night. 

It is 29 degrees outside this morning, so the puddles around the pasture are frozen.  The ducks are happy to find warm water in a pan, and will play in it until the temperature rises and the puddles thaw.  Then they will spend their time exploring each wet spot with apparent glee.  They appear to be the happiest of birds, and it makes me smile to watch them enjoying life to the waddling fullest.