The love affair begins

My husband had a midlife crisis, he decided a small rural property was a better investment than a home unit in Sydney.   

We bought a wonderful rundown money pit of 240 acres in the Southern Tablelands of NSW, absolutely neglected for about 10 years, 8 dams all with wombats taking up residence in the walls, fences falling down, top soil - what’s that?; 10 km’s of rutted dirt road to our gate, complete with a unliveable, vandalised workman’s cottage, no electricity, no phone, no internet, no flushing toilet!!  Enough to make a city girl want to keel over in despair.

Hubby's  idea was to have cross Boer goats for the meat market; the goats would also help clean up the property, and be hardy enough to cope with us being slightly absent to enable us to earn enough money to keep them in a lifestyle other goats would be green with envy over.  

Off I went and undertook an agricultural course (hubby didn’t have time with work). The course was not too deep, enough to give me knowledge about nothing in particular. I think at that point I took over husband’s midlife crisis.

          

                Exqueeze me, just learning how to hand milk.

So this is what top soil looks like and what is the long green stuff, can I have some at our place?

What do you mean by "steel capped boots don't come in high heels?"

We madly re-fenced 40 acres in readiness for our first 20 pregnant goats.  That spring we had 36 kids, 4 of which I had to hand rear being rejected by their mothers.  What a learning curve!!  Rose, Victor, Coffee, and Otis were probably the most travelled goats in NSW, going back and forward to the farm with us.  They lived in a cubby house with a penned off area in the backyard in Sydney. Thank goodness for tolerant neighbours!! When those little suckers are hungry they really let the neighbourhood know.

I thought I would be stronger but have to admit I crumbled with the pressure and that was the beginning of my love affair. Yes I am deeply in love with my goats.  Such intelligent, loving animals.  Slaughter – do not swear in front of me!  Much to husband’s disgust they are all my hairy little pets.  I am known as the mad goat lady.  At some point I know I am going to have to be strong and send future ones to the abattoir.

Well here I am, 2 Alpacas - Truesdale and MacIntosh, the best darn goat guards; 1 cat who adopted us;  1 short haired pointer, a most useless farm dog but loved anyway, she just chases the ducks around the dam until she is exhausted and scatters the goats to the farthest regions of the paddock; 60 plus goats (at the moment), 3 of which are the most spoilt beloved pets and I’m  loving every minute of it. 

 Tia the dam dog