The plan was to get through December blogging every day with a given prompt.
As it has a tendency to do, life got in the way in a very big, very chaotic and very unexpected way.
We have…hm…HAD…a herd of 11 goats with one clearly looking like she was going to drop babies at any moment. We had her separated from the herd and her two kids from last year were put in an inside pen with her because they are spoiled sometimes and I didn’t feel like fighting them.
On Sunday, after church, I returned home with my girls for a relaxing day of cleaning, possible baking…a whole lot of nothing planned for the afternoon besides getting Sammy to piano lessons. Our goats put a big, fat kabosh on that. Going out to do chores, I noticed that one of my nannies was missing. She didn’t rush to the fence with the rest of the group hoping for treats. I called for her and her head poked out from a calving hut we have set up for them. Inside with her were two babies, one looking cleaned up and alert, the other on its side, gasping for breath and looking like it was on death’s door.
Seeing something like that has a way of throwing a person into immediate overdrive. I snatched her up, wrapped her up in my coat and ran for the house where I handed the tiny thing to Sammy and told her to keep her by the heater and keep her warm until I got back in.
Rushing back outside, I came across another baby that was all sorts of gooey and gross but partially cleaned off. I immediately thought Trixie had had triplets (which, for goats, isn’t abnormal). Our biggest and most experienced mama, Butterscotch set to cleaning it again which quickly identified the mom. I poked my head in the shed to check on Carmel and laying there, cleaned off and cozy, were two more babies.
A few expletives may have been released at this point. And by few I mean…a lot.
I wasn’t worried about Carmel though. She’s a great mama and her kids were a good size. Of course, when I turned around to get my wits back around me, there was another baby.
So in all…six. In under an hour. It was pure insanity.
Things have calmed considerably, though we did come out of this with a bottle baby. The little one who we brought back from frozen three times. Her name is Winter and she is a tiny thing who cannot handle the cold at all. Every time we have her out in it, the poor thing’s body temperature drops so fast. And after attempting to reintroduce her to her mama this afternoon and watching her get brutally rejected, it became painfully clear that this little thing was my full responsibility now.
Ironically, before all of this happened, I had been somewhat jokingly engaging my husband in conversations about possibly getting a puppy.
It’s like a higher power decided I really didn’t need a puppy but to shut me up, here…have a goat.
So, we’re up to seventeen now.
All of this doesn’t exactly lend itself to me spending a good chunk of time trying to think up something not-too-generic to write, based off of prompts.” And the fact that it was all starting to feel very generic and forced wasn’t helping things.
I do need to stay on top of my blog though so I’ll try to do that but I’m giving up on the idea of writing every day for a month.
But for now, my bed is calling…no…screaming at me to come pass out so I can wake up to a kitten making a resting place out of my face at 4am and a bottle baby bleating for food.
Never a dull moment. Ever.