This brat pretended to be fine all day, then hid in the shelter of the rabbit hutches and had her babies all on her own.
I’m so proud of her.
They’re all doing amazingly well, mama is proud as punch and happy to have her kids around her, and I’m over the moon. Two males and a female, all gorgeous colors, all alive, and without a smidge of stress for me!
If a goat ever deserved a medal, it’s Miss Polly. She’s a complete champ.
In a bit we’ll start sorting out a milking schedule. I’m wildly unprepared, but I’ll get myself sorted, and then we’ll have goat yogurt, goat cheese, milk in the mornings, and maybe, if I can swing a cream separator, goat butter too.
This sweet girl is due any day now, and we’re so excited to see the babies she produces. She’s so unbelievably beautiful, and I can’t wait to see what kind of color her babies have.
Look at this. Can you believe how beautiful it is here?
I can’t.
Colorado is getting ALL the rain this spring, and since we have a workday for our house planned tomorrow, my sister and I are tilling the garden today.
It’s a quarter of an acre.
So, so much room.
We are planting all the things—AFTER June first—and that means a LOT of ground needs to be cleared. Since both my sister and I are overachievers, we’re doubling the size of our garden this year. Last year, I was pregnant and exhausted and the year before that, my sister was. This year, we’re both fit and energetic—haha, not really—and we are ready for a serious challenge.
You know, since we both have tiny children, we’re in the middle of building our own house, I’m launching a book in the next six months, and we’re both working.
We had a hundred chicks show up at our door the other afternoon.
I’m wildly excited.
Our flock of hens had dwindled over the last year until we only had eight layers left in our whole coop.
Eight. Eight, y’all.
Eight hens, when eggs are $6.22 a dozen.
We’re doing weird things for breakfast right now. Chicken sandwiches. Rice and beans. Leftovers.
I miss eggs.
It’ll take a while for these tiny peepers to start laying, but once they do, we’re gonna be snowed under y’all. So many eggs they’ll be coming out our ears.
At least, it feels like a miracle, after months of nothing helping and Adam’s skin issues getting worse and worse no matter what.
These pictures are four days apart, y’all. Four. Days.
Look at how beautiful he is. So much less itchiness, so much more sleep. Just a happier baby.
I could cry. I might cry, actually, once I get over this cold and the full impact of this hits me.
It’s been months, y’all. Months of tears and restricted diets and allergic reactions to things I never realized could make a baby react.
Did you know avocados are related to ragweed? Because I didn’t… until my baby’s face started to swell.
That will not be one of my treasured memories, let me tell you.
But, oh, he looks amazing. The solution seems to have been a round of steroids—which I fought with all my might and finally submitted to—hypoallergenic formula, and, of all things, Crisco.
Yup. You read that right.
I’ve been putting vegetable shortening on my baby’s head.
And it’s working.
Might have to write a letter to Crisco corporate and thank them for my baby’s soft skin. No context, no explanation. Just a thank you for being the best skin care product on the planet.
Let them try to figure that one out.
Oddly enough, the Crisco on his skin wasn’t my idea. My pediatrician recommended it. I wish I had a picture of my face when she told me, “You know, why don’t you pick up a can of Crisco on the way home?”
Blink, blink.
She even told me I could go with the generic brand instead of Crisco, but I figured, if we’re putting shortening on my child’s head, it might as well be the best.
Joking aside, it, in combination with the other things, have made my boy very happy. And we’re sleeping more than half an hour at a time at night, so Crisco corporate deserves, like, a bouquet of fried chicken or something.
Ramblings of an Obsessive Bookworm 