When it rains, it pours.
That proverb is metaphorically true, this week, although I’m praying for a literal interpretation. Last Tuesday I glanced out the kitchen window as I did dishes and thought it odd that the entire flock of chickens and three turkeys instantly appeared on the driveway and in the farthest garden. A rare occasion for them. I threw my shoes on, suspecting a predator, feeling helpless without tracking or hunting skills. I didn’t detect any animal, but did discover that over the course of the day, ten chickens were missing.
Monday, Dan went out to do chores only to discover one of our younger goats had a late term miscarriage and had to dispose of the fragile hairless deformed body. In the afternoon, the pump to our well went out, and I spent the day without running water.
Today, the culprit was our billy goat (pictured above), who managed to bust through a wall on one side of his outdoor pen and break out. Fence repairs are needed.
What will be tomorrow’s crisis? Chickens turn on owners and stage a coup. Goats revolt, form a union and refuse to cooperate until feed is doubled.
Rain is desperately needed for the precious seedlings, making a brave attempt to survive in the dry earth. The garden surprised us with some volunteer lettuce and cilantro, which is happy news. I can’t wait for fresh lettuce.
The rest of the goats are looking, and I’m sure feeling, very pregnant. I don’t know how their little stick legs can manage to carry around such weight? It does make them easier to catch for their weekly spoonful of medicine.
Chicken eggs are in the incubator, turkey hens are faithfully sitting on theirs and I’ve since had a rifle lesson, so there is hope!
That’s our week on the farm!