It's all fun and games until they come inside...

Isn't that a lovely picture? This was several years ago, when we got our first goat. Feather is her name. She is the black and white goat grazing so peacefully while Eden loves on Feather's first kid. Ahh, the beginning of farm life...so many promising ideas of self-sustainability and good health. Oh, the joy of going out each morning and afternoon to sit in the cool of the day and milk while I watch the children play and the animals move around.

And then reality set in.

Eric: "I don't have time to milk this morning, you'll have to do it"

Me: "What?! Are you crazy? It is 20 degrees outside, I have to get everybody up, everybody dressed, everyone's breakfast! I can't milk!"

Now, I really do love having goats. I love fresh milk. I love making yogurt, kefir, cheeses, even soap! And to make life just (almost) perfect, last spring Eric introduced the children to the wonderful world of milking goats. So Eden at 6 and Moses at 7 years old took over the job of milking. And I REALLY love having goats now.

Until last week.

We took Josiah to Memphis for doctor appointment, and we didn't get home until 10 p.m. It was one of those times when it is late. You are tired. You have been gone all day, and you can't wait to get into your bed and go to sleep.

So you can imagine my dismay when we drove down the driveway and the headlights of the car flashed on the downstairs door and two goats were looking out at us! Yes, that's right. When I left at NOON that day I (ok, I admit it was my fault) ran out the door and closed it, but it didn't latch all the way. All they had to do was bump the door and in they went. Two goats and 3 cats spent the entire day INSIDE our house...

Now if I had a camera that worked (#1 on my Christmas list, hint hint) I would have taken a picture. My first thought when I saw Feather chewing her cud inside my house looking at me like "Well, where have you been all day? It's about time you got here to let me out" was my grain!! Because I make most of our breads, I buy grain in 50 lbs bags. I just bought grain the week before and had not put it away yet. So Feather and her boyfried, Footstock (Josiah named him), decided they would go ahead and open the bags to see what was inside... And of course they annihilated the most expensive grain (the spelt). Of course!

So walking downstairs was like walking through a sea of spelt berries and goat poop. (In case you don't know what goat poop looks like, think Coco Pebbles. And they poop CONSTANTLY.) They had been on the school table, in Isaiah's bed, lounging on the rug and chairs (and leaving behind all sorts of gifts). Then I noticed goat poop up the stairs. Yes, they toured the whole house. They ate all my plants, even the beautiful flowers Eric got me the week before. We had a trash bag in the kitchen upstairs that had not been taken out yet, so they ripped into that spreading trash all over the kitchen. Dirty diapers everywhere. Gross. And the cats? Yes, they, too, left their calling cards in my bathroom and closet.

We did clean it all up that night, although Eric tried to tell me we would just clean it up the next day. Um, yeah, I don't think so. The next day I washed sheets , mopped floors, and shampooed the rug. It's all clean and tidy again. So when you come over for dinner next time, no need to worry that you will be eating in unsanitary conditions. And I hope you like roasted goat!