Since the establishment of this blog, we have indeed purchased a goat! However, the original story that follows- and the spirit of the metaphor it contains- lives on vibrantly. Thus the blog name remains, despite the ever-changing circle of animals that come and go on a homestead.
If you were to come to my real house, you might remark on the peaceful setting, or perhaps you would notice the garden. You might ask to go check out the chicken coop. You might sit on my porch swing or go straight into my kitchen for a homemade snack.
We’d sit down and talk about life- anything and everything. We could talk homesteading, homeschooling, music, real food, natural birth, motherhood, or religion. Sure, we may differ here and there, but overall we could keep our conversation both lively and charitable.
You might be packing up to go, thinking of what a lovely afternoon you had at my house. You may have found it relatively uneventful. You may have thought we were getting to know each other pretty well.
But, inevitably, at some point during your visit, you would notice them.
Something moving on the edge of our yard. Black. Bigger than a dog, smaller than a bear. With horns.
Rustling. Munching. Shifting slowly, coming closer.
“Wow, are those your goats?!?” exclaim most of our visitors, and certainly, so would you.
They’re not our goats.
We wish they were our goats. (It’s easy to look over the fence and be jealous.) It would be really nice to have goats, right? They could graze our lawn instead of us mowing it. They could give us milk. They could keep us company. Besides, isn’t it part of the homesteading vision to own some sort of livestock eventually? Maybe our neighbors would sell them to us. Do you have a goat? Would you send her our way? (How do you raise a goat, by the way?)
But, our lofty dreams of owning friendly four-legged beasts are not yet to be fulfilled. They’re just not our goats, no matter how much we would like it. But you know what? The goats are symbolic to us of a hard lesson that we are continually learning:
The grass isn’t greener anywhere. Not my house, not yours, not your neighbor’s. We are ever hoping to move upward and onward in our ventures in home, family, and career, but constantly learning to stay rooted and to be gratefully mindful of the many gifts we have already been given. There is peace in resting where you’re at, in finding joy in the mundane, in finding fulfillment in God, family, and love.
I’m Abi. Aspiring homesteader, pre-k homeschooler, singer, teacher, birth doula, Christian, wife of one, mother of two. Come on in and stay a while. Get your hands dirty in the garden or the kitchen. Help me grow as a mother. Teach me how to teach. Sing with me. Love to learn and love to listen. Please forgive the mess while you’re here.
Oh, and don’t mind the goats, will you?