Updates from the Micro Farm

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.

Catching Up

There is much going on up here in our little house on the hill.

I do love my little house which really is about perfect for our needs. My only complaint? Who puts the light switch in the dining room on the OPPOSITE wall from the kitchen? It makes no sense.

BUT, other than that and a $500 plumbing bill (GO HOME OWNERSHIP), things are going really well.

We're getting unpacked, boxes shall remain evermore, and I'm shockingly okay with that.

Our school days are finding rhythm again, and I'm so glad. The boys desperately need that structure and contentment of know what is happening when. Everyone is much happier. So, boxes get pretty ignored, and kids are happy.

It's a good trade-off.

Additionally, I've been waiting for years and years to learn how to play this:


And I'm TERRIBLE. Oh so bad, but I can't quite put it into words how incredibly happy scratching out a few notes a day is making me. I LOVE IT. Did I mention that I'm terrible? The blessing is that my violin background means I at least know the basics.

This little peanut is learning new things too.

 She is a light and a joy. Her brothers never ever tire of her.

The woods here are a beautiful place to live.


This is our yard, snow-covered toy lawnmower included.

 We like to drive down our dirt roads really slowly and just see all there is to see. People who get stuck BEHIND us don't love it much. Meh. What can you do?

We're adjusting. It's good. I miss family and friends, and that is always hard. New Hampshire is NOT Utah. We get asked every time we go out anywhere, "Those kids all your's?" The last time it happened, in the check out lane, I answered, "Sure are, I made them all myself!"

We're settling in. It's good. It's very good.

Whoa

Wow, ya'll. I had NO idea people felt so strongly about puppies. I mean, I know I feel strongly about them (as in don't like them) but wow.

So, we kind of decided we were nutcases, and undid the "We'll take a puppy" thing. Mostly, it's because I was just gone for two days at a birth and was all, "What would we do with a puppy???" So. Um. Yeah. I kind of forgot that my chosen field often leads me to be away for undisclosed amounts of time. Whoops. A kid you can take to the sitter, but what do you do with a puppy? A dog would even be fine, you just leave the doggy door open. Could you take a moment and imagine what a puppy would have done to my house while no one was here during the day for two days???

So, my sweet fantastic sister Sarah said she totally understands. I love her so much.

We're still thinking we'll get a dog though, just not a puppy. I texted our landlord to see if he was cool with it, and his exact reply (via text) was "U can get a dog, just not a big huge one that will chew everything up."

Cool. Since puppies chew everything, I think puppies are OUT!

Therefore Derek is currently on the internet looking at ADULT dogs. :) I kind of think we could handle one that comes all grown up and potty trained.

Relax though, we're just looking. :)

Brace yourselves

Derek and I are considering getting a dog.

Meh. That's a lie.

We ARE getting a dog.

I know. It is a TERRIBLE idea. A HORRIBLE idea.

But we're gonna do it anyway.

Sigh.

Here's the story:

My sister has a basset hound. She's menopausal (the dog, not my sister...). My sister also has a 9 month old Labrador retriever.

Well, her menopausal basset hound and her pubescent lab hooked up and my sister has found herself grandmother to eight very cute Bassador puppies. (Which is a fancy term for "mutt.")

When Sarah called to tell me the joyous news, she asked off hand "Do you want one?"

To which I replied," Probably, let me ask Derek."

WHAT????? Why? Why would I say such a STUPID, RIDICULOUS, STUPID thing?

I don't know why either.

So, I called Derek and told him the whole story. My sweet, fantastic husband was supposed to say, "Morgan, NO! A thousand times NO!"

But he said, "Tell her to pick out the cutest one for us."

WHAT????? Why? Why would he say such a RIDICULOUS thing???????

So, I called Sarah back and told her just that.

Sigh.

Now, let's be clear. I.do.not.want.a.puppy. Puppies chew and whiz on everything. They have sharp little baby claws and even sharper little baby teeth. They get hair on everything.

I don't want a puppy.

But I do want a dog. A lot. Dogs are awesome.

But puppies. Ick, puppies.

I asked Sarah to PLEASE keep one of the cute little fur balls for about a year and half and train it up real nice for me, and drop it off in 18 months.

She said no.

So, I'm stuck. Luckily, puppies grow up.

And I have the Dog Whisperer's book on hold at the library. I am NOT going into this blindly.

I already know I'm an idiot, but I am not going to be a clueless idiot. I will have a well-behaved, potty/crate trained dog as soon as humanly possible, (doggily possible).

Oh, I'm so so so sad. Why are we doing this? It's just the worst idea we've ever had. We're going to anyway.

And Derek says I absolutely can not name a midget black labrador Webster.

That is really the worst part of all of it.

Oh my holy heck.