Twice a day I sit on the milking stanchion next to our milking goat, Isabella Noni, with my head resting on her side. I am not a particularly helpful milker. I milk from one side for awhile then Doug finishes milking her. My hands aren’t big enough to get around her utters when they are full and I am slow, but I like helping and leaning my head on her. I don’t hear her heartbeat, just her stomach gurgling. I feel her course fur and strong form. Being next to a sentient being as sweet as our goat carries with it a peace that I cannot describe. A peace we did not know while living in suburbia on a sixteenth of an acre with city rules. An audible exhale, if you will.
I wish I could have captured the moment the other day when I looked out in the goat yard and saw Shyanne and her boyfriend, Dillon, laughing while being toppled by baby goats. It was the most endearing sight. Two kids that want to move to the mountains this summer and away from the country I still find in the goat yard, or feeding the babies a bottle, or taking care of chickens. This country life gets into every fiber of our being. There is no going back to the city without farming permeating every cell.
My friend, Lauren, who purchased my Dwarf goat, Katrina, is a powerhouse young homesteader. She, and her neighborhood of homesteading friends are changing the world out there in Old Colorado City. The vote is tomorrow on whether to allow goats and chickens. I lounged in her back yard for awhile on her porch watching the men putting up a yurt. The view of the mountains so close it felt like one could hike to it. Her little old house and modest yard brimming with life. Three goats, chickens, dogs, children, friends and laughter made it a place of enchantment and inspiration. Country girls take the country with them wherever they go!
When Emily and I went to Nancy’s house for the first time years ago, Emily was just coming out of a rough stage and it was new that she would even go places with me. As we got out of the car and were greeted by Faleena and Nancy’s bright smiles and contagious country enthusiasm, I saw Emily brighten and open up. Faleena handed her a newborn goat and I saw her exterior melt. Farm animals, fresh air, and homesteading friends can do that, they can change you, make your heart bigger, make you happier and more in tune with life.
Maryjane ran around the back yard at my birthday party Saturday through leftover snow in her white tights without shoes on. She had thrown her sweater off somewhere too. Her mouth showed remnants of dirt sampling, and a wide smile crossed her face. A baby goat head butted her and ran her over which did not make her happy in the least as she screamed her protest. But a few minutes later she was distracted with a chicken that ran by and Isabella Noni, who she loves. I hold her as she rides the large goat. Isabella is bigger than our greyhound, with the patience of a nanny dog. She is helping make a country girl. Maryjane will hold the love of farm animals, dirt and the vegetables in it, and chicken eggs in her heart and in every fiber of her being. Anywhere she goes she will have the spirit of a farmer within her.
Farmgirls are compassionate, in tune with their surroundings, strong, vibrant folks. We’ve had rough gos and have been knocked down. We have stood back up, planted another row, wrestled a sheep, and come out stronger and in time to make supper. We like a good glass of wine on the porch and can tell the weather before the news. We can get it all done, and have time to sit and talk to the neighbors. Farmgirls are loyal friends, don’t take crap, and are confident, sexy and funny. Being a farmgirl is not for the faint of heart. Farmgirls help keep the farming communities alive.