A Farm Girl No More

That's right....I'm a city girl once again. I just returned from a nine-day trip to the Phillips' farm. Unfortunately, I have no pictures, but let me share a little of what happened.
Friday night was Ben's birthday party. Saturday was cleaning the barn. Sunday was spending time with the family, which meant two adorable babies to hold. Monday and Tuesday were general work days. Wednesday, I had the house to myself because Ben was getting his wisdom teeth taken out. Thursday was watching granddaughter Addie while still attempting to be productive. Friday was....crazy. We got so much work done, and it was hot!     This morning was lazy, and family came over to celebrate Easter.
In all, 12 kids were born. We bottle-fed them all, three times a day. Yesterday, we taught all but the youngest three to drink the milk from a pan. Also, we disbudded 10 of them, which means we seared their horn buds so that the horns would not grow; not the most fun, but necessary.
There were times during the week that I wondered, "Why again do I do this? Am I crazy?"

Like when I was all alone with a goat in labor.
Or when  I was washing 30 bottles a day.
Or when I got milk all over my pants and arms because the kids knocked the milk bucket.
Or when I had three splinters and two cuts on my hands at the same time, and dirty chipped nails.
Or when I smelled the awful burning flesh from disbudding. 

But then I would hold a baby goat on my lap.
Or feel a kid sucking on my finger.
Or take a large sip of fresh goat's milk.
Or look at what had been accomplished and know that I had done it with my own two hands.
Or see all the open land and rolling hills.
Or watch the miracle of a kid being born.

And then I would remember, "This is why I love it." There is something so rewarding about drinking milk that you milked from a goat. Or eating pork that came from a pig you raised. Or cracking open an egg that came from your chickens. It means that all your hard work has paid off. Yes, I feel like I could sleep for days. Yes, I shoulders kill and my arms and legs are tired. But, no, I wouldn't trade it for anything.