Jeremy and I brought Little John the goat to visit, and he got along surprisingly well with my parent’s dogs. We shared the story of how Little John — born on our farm in February — had become a permanent member of our family. (LJ was told that he could either stay on Little Brook Farm as a wethered pet or go to another farm to become a Papa goat with girlfriends. I asked him to stomp his foot if he wanted to stay. Little John considered for a while before looking me square in the eye, stomping his foot, and walking away!)
“Nice visit!” my father said as we were leaving.
I was sick over Thanksgiving so the next time I saw my Father was on 11/27. He was soundly sleeping but woke up when he heard that I was leaving.
His eyes opened and lit up so brightly.
“Goodbye,” he waved. “I love you!”
The next day my Father passed peacefully with his dog in his lap and my Mother — his partner of 70 years — by his side.
My Father gifted me with so much in this lifetime but these final memories are the greatest gifts I could ever receive.
Four years ago today, I jumped with joy when I became the sole owner of my childhood dream home. While the land had been gifted to me by my parents many years prior, its future hung precariously in the balance while I navigated my new life as a single mom in the midst of a heartbreaking divorce.
As a child growing up in the country, I longed to live in a cozy log home like Laura Ingalls Wilder in “Little House on the Prarie.” It was a dream come true when my parents divided the property, giving me four acres of land so I could build a little cabin and start a family.
We moved in when I was pregnant with our first child. The floors were unfinished and we slept on a mattress on the living room floor. The front lawn was mud as far as the eye could see. But then grass seed was planted and a natural wood floor replaced the sub-flooring. A cherry tree took root and a campfire site was dug out.
Like Little Red Riding Hood without the threat of the wolf, my daughter would wave goodbye as she set out on the trail behind our house to visit her grandparents next door.
It was a dream come true.
Until it all came crashing down.
When my husband left, I struggled to manage our family finances solo, racking up thousands of dollars in credit card debt including lawyer fees. My credit score took a nose dive, hovering in the mid 500’s — and making it impossible for a lender to approve a refinance in my name.
But the worst was yet to come.
I was sued for full custody, child support, alimony, and the house — while *I* paid the mortgage for three years!
My credits cards were maxed out and I could no longer afford a lawyer. I faced this lawsuit on my own, representing myself in my divorce while working full-time and juggling side jobs to pay down my credit card debt and boost my credit score.
I reached out to old friends and made new ones, learning everything I could about finances and divorce law. I joined financial groups on Facebook, read law books, and became a regular at the Self-Help Center at the local court house.
In the course of a year, my credit score skyrocketed, reaching the 700s — and I negotiated a divorce settlement that allowed me to keep the house.
Four years later, I now sit on my front porch, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and gazing at the lush red berries wanting to be picked.
It was March of 2020. With little warning, schools closed down and I knew major change was on the horizon. As Jeremy and I walked towards the overgrown trail that led from my parents’ house to ours, I asked him what his one wish for his childhood would be.
Without hesitation, my six-year-old son replied: “farm animals!”
I glanced back at my parents’ empty barn and lonely pasture with surprise. I had once imagined Jeremy growing up as a little farmer boy, enjoying the special experience of raising animals in the country. But an unexpected divorce led our family down a new path, and I never shared these hopes with him. Yet — he now had this dream for himself!
Two years later, our menagerie of 21 goats, a mini horse, 9 sheep, and 2 mini pigs brings so much joy to our family! Instead of being glued to a computer for virtual learning, Jeremy spent his second grade year getting fresh air while learning hands-on skills that could even lead to future employment! We continued homeschooling for third grade, hosting a series of homeschool farm classes that were incredibly successful and led to many new friendships! Now Jeremy can’t stop talking about plans for our upcoming summer farm camp and opening a lemonade stand at our petting zoo!
“Hey, whatever happened to that shed you were going to buy?”
The text from Roger message popped up on my phone screen.
It had been several months since I first reached out to Roger about living with me.
I had been so lonely since my husband left several years before — and overwhelmed by the work load that came with maintaining four acres of land in the rural country woods.
It was the pandemic’s second wave, and my first winter as a farmer. I had managed well in the spring and summer, embracing the time at home with my children. I reveled in the rural country setting that surrounded us as I walked the long, winding trail from the cabin I shared with my children to the red barn behind my parent’s farmhouse.
But a hard winter was coming.
I longed for a housemate and my friend Roger was in need of a change. For months, I texted pictures of possible living spaces — a backyard shed I could convert into a tiny house; a friend’s tricked-out psychedelic RV he could park in my driveway; and most recently, a finished “she shed” with electric and heat!
However, as the months passed I couldn’t get Roger on board for a visit, much less a change of address.
His text came as a surprise.
“Funny you should ask,” I texted back. “I am still working on the shed transport, but I just found some free cement slabs that could be used as a foundation. It’s a long drive to pick them up — but they are free! I just need someone to help me pick them up!”
Two days later on December 12, the sun was shining so Roger made the long drive from his place to mine on his shiny blue motorcycle. By day’s end, we had the cement slabs and Roger intended to return home the following morning.
The Universe, however, had other plans.
First, a flat tire sidelined his bike— and so he spent the New Moon here.
Then we were hit with a blizzard like we had not seen in years. His tire was fixed but riding a bike home in freezing temperatures was out of the question.
One day turned into two, and then six more … Roger left on December 20 but then returned to celebrate with us on Christmas Eve, left again for New Year’s, but returned on January 2.
As the weeks turned into months, I grew accustomed to seeing Roger in the pasture with Peanut our mini horse, running next to him and waving his arms like he was a little boy.
Such a joyous sight helped to balance out the harsh challenges of winter farming: freezing water in the barn, sick animals, and constant snow.
I knew winter would be hard, but I couldn’t predict that a brutal case of shingles would completely sideline me for most of February – but as fate would have it, I was no longer alone.
I survived shingles and all of the animals made it through the winter. In June, our first baby goats were born on the farm. Then, in an extraordinary sequence of events, I purchased my parents’ property and Little Brook Farm became mine!
When the snow made our long, winding driveway impassable for months.
When the wolf spiders the size of hands clung to the basement walls.
When the lack of Internet led me to the Wawa parking lot to connect to WiFi.
When the memories of my marriage made the walls feel like they were closing in.
And when I fell in love with a man and a community two hours south, creating whirlwind weekends with hundreds of miles logged on my car.
But every time I talked about selling our four acres in the country and moving to a small apartment in town, my daughter insisted it couldn’t be an option.
“It’s such a burden,” I plead with her. “I just can’t keep this up much longer!”
“All that I care about is figure skating – and this house,” she told me in tears.
Countless peers counseled me to sell.
“Children are adaptable,” they said. “Think of your own happiness.”
In many ways, I was…
As a young girl, I grew up on 16 acres of farm land, longing for a day when my parents would gift me a piece of property and I could build my dream home: a cozy log cabin, tucked away in the peaceful woods.
Fifteen years ago, that dream came true!
My daughter grew up close to her grandparents, taking the winding trail in the woods to visit them as often as she liked and enjoying the goats and sheep that roamed my parents’ pasture.
When my marriage ended, the magic seemed to fade away.
In more recent years, the barn stayed empty. The beauty of the countryside got just a quick glance in my rear-view mirror as I left for another road trip. Always running one from one commitment to the next, I never felt at peace.
But when the pandemic issued a stay-at-home order, I was forced to return to my roots.
I put my property to use, and I grew a garden for the first time! While several veggies failed to sprout, my green beans and jalapeno peppers were delicious — and my arugula grew year-round, even surviving months of snow. (I joke that I should become an arugula farmer!)
Since I was working from home and my young son was now homeschooled, we had the time to foster cats and start our own little goat farm — and now my son dreams of becoming a vet!
I soaked in the beauty of the cherry tree that bloomed in my front yard … had it always been so magical? I fully enjoyed every day of the two weeks in July when black raspberries grow wild on my property, picking as many berries as my hands could reach.
I froze my gym membership, setting up a small pool and a trampoline on loan. The kids and I spent nights around the campfire and says walking our cats through the woods.
What had once weighed on me so heavy had now become my paradise.
“You were right,” I told my daughter.
“Can you imagine if I had sold our house and we had to quarantine in a small apartment this past year? We are so blessed.”
“See?” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I told you!”
This time last year I’d never have predicted I’d be spending my hours weighing the benefits of a Nigerian Dwarf goat vs a Mini Alpine.
But in the wake of school closings and virtual learning this fall, I’m embracing this opportunity for change!
My son likes the idea of homeschooling with Mommy, and so I plan each day for our “farm school.”
We are getting back to nature and learning academics and real-world skills through hands-on operation of our small, family farm.
In the midst of a pandemic, I can think of nothing better for the immune system than fresh country air and home grown food. Goat milk is even known to have medicinal benefits!
Henry David Thoreau once said, “Things do not change. We change.”
Goat Milk Revolution 