Meet Roany, our newest goat. I’ll have to clear space on my memory card before I can introduce the cutest addition to our goat herd. Roany though, joins Blackie in the milking pen and shows her up 3 to 1 in production. Lacking nothing in personality, Roany may very well drive me crazy, but we’re working on a system that doesn’t involve my hair or ears getting eaten and my barn coat staying intact for the duration of chores each time. I’d like to keep all three, but thanks anyway, Roany.
I made eggs for breakfast this morning. Sterling does not like eggs. None of the kids have jumped for joy at our switch to goat’s milk (Threats have been involved each time to get children to finish their milk.) I asked Sterling what animal he thinks we should get, since we have chickens and he doesn’t like eggs and we have goats but he doesn’t like goat’s milk. He said he likes hamburgers and hot dogs. I’ll get right on that.
That conversation was promptly followed by Eden asking if I’d put milk in her eggs, and if I had, had I used goat’s milk. (I did, but I didn’t. It was cow’s milk.) Suspicious children.
I think I might not have to mow the lawn this summer. Four goats can eat a lot of grass.