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The Talk

The Beginning of the End

I just had “The Talk” with the boys. Gavin didn’t take it well.

Are you picky when it comes to milk? In my house we smell it, examine it, taste it and are still often leary about it. This week I’m forcing the kids use Almond Milk for their cereal. I have it on hand and I’m trying to save the rest of the Whole Milk for cooking. That didn’t go over well. It almost came down to tears. “Noooo, I hate that stuff,” whined Gavin this morning. Then, I explained that in two weeks, I am never going to buy cow’s milk again. Well, I’m not going to say “never”, but I don’t intend to.

Why?

Well, milk is so stink in’ expensive now. Have you noticed? And I buy the GMO-free milk which makes it so much more expensive than the big plastic gallon jug. I’ve had to limit the milk drinking by the boys to help it last longer. Boys can really drink a lot of milk!

But . . . the real reason, the reason that matters right this second, is that we are finally going to have goats! We have decided on two dairy goats. One is currently in milk, while the other is just living, breathing lawn mower. They are relatively young Alpines and they are sisters. Since goats are social creatures, we opted on getting two. Happy goats, more milk.

Not Just Milk

I’m excited to have the goat milk. Honestly, I’ve never even tried it. Duh, I know! But, we’re going to make it work and we are going to like it! Although having our own milk factory is totally cool, I’m most excited about what you can do with all that milk. Cheese!

I love goat cheese! Love it. Love, love, love.

The Ladies

Of course, my biggest problem right now is their names. Don’t worry. I’m a skilled problem solver.

There have been other considerations, but I think they are in the bag, baby.

The ladies are two years old and they have some interesting names. I’d prefer to rename them, mostly because they’ll be mine and there is something special about a name. At least for me. I don’t think Mateo really cares. Problem is . . . are the goats going to have a problem if I start calling them something different.

The names Cappuccino and Kit Kat just don’t fit for the Barker’s Faux Farm. Maybe Basil and Sage? Or Annabell and Bonnie? Agnes and Edith? The name Kit Kat is definitely going to have to change. Gavin suggested we name her Frappe  (Frapp or Frapper for all those that cannot pronounce it correctly).

I’m so excited! He he he.

Goat Mama,

Ginger

 

 


Neighbors

While writing my last post I overheard my neighbors. They kept saying “Maaaa, maaaa, maaaa”. If I didn’t know better I would think they were saying “Maaaatt, Maaaatt, Maaaatt.” Maybe they are.

I usually stop by to chat with them. They are so nice and always have pleasant things to say. Granted, they are goats, known for being much more outgoing than your average sheep.

A few times a year the goats have kids, which are they ones making all the chit-chat lately. They are so cute when they are little. Some have little horn nubs growing out the tops of their heads. Today, since it is quite warm, they were seeking shade underneath their food trough, while their older siblings and mothers grabbed a bite to eat. I must have been relatively stealthy, because the rooster next door to the goats kept quite.

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Another Hedgehog

Not sure how, but we tend to get hedgehogs in our yard every now and then. I’m beginning to think that they come to our yard just to die. Not a great thought, right? After checking on him for about an hour or so, I put on some garden gloves and carried him across the street where there is a field. Sometimes when I come home at night, I’ll see them run (if you can call it that) out of the street over to this area. Hopefully he’ll find what he’s looking for.

Hedgehog

Another Visitor


Life, Death, and Miracles

And it all happened right here on the beautiful island of Crete. A couple of weeks ago, some friends of ours were taking out the trash (in the rain no less!) when they heard a noise coming from under some palm fronds by the dumpster. They looked around and found 2 baby puppies, still with their umbilical cords and wet from birth. Unfortunately, newborn puppies are often left by dumpsters here, but that’s another story… Fortunately, for these two cuties, someone rescued them!

Last week at our Wednesday night church service, they brought the puppies in with them looking for a sucker, uh… I mean volunteer, to take the puppies from them until they were big enough to give to the folks that wanted them. Our friends, in the meantime, were heading back to the states and the husband works all day so couldn’t be around to feed the puppies all day. So, you can see where this story is heading, right?

The next night, we picked up the puppies and brought them home with us. That’s when our little adventure began! I get the night shift with the pups, usually feeding them around 9 and 12 (and sometimes 3 if they don’t sleep through), then the early morning shift, and Ginger gets the day shift. The first morning I was up with them, I was feeding the puppies just like I had done the night before. I fed the little one (who cries the loudest and the longest) first, then fed the bigger girl. Tristan came in the room just after I had finished feeding her. It was then that I realized the puppy was not moving and just didn’t look right. I picked her up and she was completely limp – no breathing, no little puppy heartbeat, NOTHING!

Great, I have the puppies for one day and I kill one! I couldn’t let that happen without a fight – especially with Tristan sitting there in front of me, starting to look a little teary eyed. I grabbed the little puppy, pushed a few times on her chest, then stuck my mouth over her mouth and nose and gave her some air. After a few repetitions of this, she started to spit up some milk – then more and more milk. But, thanks to God granting me a miracle, she started breathing again and moving around. WHEW!!! Fortunately, she has been fine ever since!

Afterward, I did some research on the Internet and found out that I had probably fed her too much – I think the extra went into her lungs. I was under the impression that they would be like people babies and quit eating when they were full. Guess not! I won’t be making that mistake again. And Joanne, if you’re reading this – the girls are fine… now!