Now, I have officially done it....

Welp, where do I begin.  The past week+ had been wild around here.  We have suffered through the fluey/cold that is going around.  I think I went 14 days straight with sick kids at home only to then come down with it myself the very day they were both back in school.  I love my kids, but holy crap, I don't deal that well with having no peace and quiet for days on end.  I couldn't even shovel poop without someone whining at me from the house, wrapped in blankets wanting more tea and honey or  just to whine or dribble on about Mineraft.  Who would have thought that the sheer desire to shovel 4 kinds of crap uninterrupted would be the stuff of daydreams.

As a celebratory move, once we were all healthy, I decided to treat myself to some new hens.  The 7 chicks are Ameracaunas and Cream Legbars, which once they start laying (in June!), will help create my rainbow egg basket by adding shades of blue and green eggs.  Here's a cute pic of the buggers.

Cream legbar girls

I was thinking this would be a good warm up for some baby love.  All this examining of goat rear ends I previously mentioned,  lead me to believe that my goats are most likely pregnant and in a couple of months, I'll have some cute kids to dote on.  And so, Monday last, my earnest research on goat pregnancy, supplies, immunizations, gestation times etc began.

Well, that research was started weeks too late.  Tuesday, on my mid-morning rounds I noticed a rather large wet spot in the goat area.  I believe I was muttering "oh no, oh no" under my breath as I approached, knowing it meant something was going wrong with someone and worried at what I might find.   I was so intent on trying to figure out what might cause a large wet spot like that, I failed to notice, right to the left of the large wet spot was Bluebell, my angora doe, and on either side of her were two white, wet moving lumps. Then they mewed the sweetest little high pitched sound you have EVER heard!  Upon the registration that my goat just had TWINS without me knowing or supervising or knowing for sure she was even pregnant, my response was as you might imagine.  I started jumping up and down screaming "Oh my God, Oh my God, What do I do, Holy Sh+t".  Repeatedly.  For minutes.  Many minutes. To no one, except the goats and chickens. Until my brain started to function again and I decided the next best course of action was to interrupt my good friend in the middle of her hair appointment only to start yelling the same obsenities into her ear. She told me what to do (um, breathe?) and assured me that this happens everyday and everyone was fine and to see if I just had girls or boys!!!  Luckily, I was meeting this friend for lunch a few hours later and she promised to help me with supplies, come check out the little blobs and to ply me with margaritas.  I did say she was a good friend.

Left baby has yet to try and stand, probably 30 minutes old or less.

Two days old

Now, looking back, this seems kind of funny, and a natural process that happens everyday, yes, that is true.  But few things in my recent past have traumatized me so much.  Seriously.  I'm still not sure I'm over the drama almost a week later.  I have been in agriculture for 23 years, but there is little guilt and certainly not the same level of concern when you are tending plants.  Even when you have found a one of a kind flower that you are responsible for tending and bringing to market, there is pressure and stress, yes, but not like this. Chosing to bring life into this world and having the responsibility of supporting a small family with which you cannot communicate and know little about is kind of freaking me out.   I haven't fully digested my thoughts on all of this yet, I'm sure that will be the subject of a future blog post.  But in basic terms, this birth is symbolic of the trajectory of a dream.  Every other decsion along this path had secondary reasons that were more important and certainly more justifiable than following my hairbrained, halfcocked dream.  There is nothing BAD about moving your kids to acreage, a better school, and surrounding them with the natural environment.  There is nothing BAD about exposing them to where their food comes from, how to care for different types of animals and teaching them responsibility through animal care and farm work.  A good friend of mine kind of nailed it.  She is also a plant farmer and when she told her boys who are similar in age to my kids, their response was to BEG her for animals that they don't fix so they can have babies around.  There you have it, this is my first animal birthing experience and now I am responsible for deciding the lifes path of these two cute little angora bucklings. Gulp.

Introducing, Hercules and Billy McLarney of Ourstillunnamed Farm.  Date of birth, February 12, 2013.

Billy's on the left with the one black curl