Well. We'd been talking since we moved, okay since even before then, about how lovely a grass-eating goat would be. Then I have had the privilege of mowing the lawn twice now, and well. Say hello to Sir Linus Goatington:
He's a sweet little wether Oberhasli (which means he's been "fixed") and likes to headbutt the dog, who does NOT appreciate it. Jonah, in just three days, has learned to avoid Linus' front end, Little Linus has taken to the weed eating I'd hoped he'd enjoy, like a fish to water, or a goat to overgrown grass. No, he won't be able to handle the entire acre of grass that requires mowing, but any little bit helps.
We like him.
Additionally, things are growing. They are a bit desperate for some nice warm sunshine (rain rain rain rain rain rain) but they are hanging in there regardless.
And I don't believe I ever showed you the completed (okay, not quite, but enough that the chickens can live in it) coop.
Derek did a fabulous job. The girls agree.
Our little micro farm is growing.
As Derek was assembling an "emergency" pen for Linus on Sunday morning (Father's Day), he looked at me and said, "Am I a farmer now?"
I'm not really sure, but nonetheless, our little house on the hill is blooming and growing.
It's a dream come true.