8 Years Later...

Nyla and the kids.

Eight years ago today we moved out to the farm.  We were not looking for a business or even to farm, per se.  We were looking for a home with enough room for the kids to get out of the house and stretch their wings.  The house we ended up with was smaller than the one in Houston, we went down one bedroom and one bathroom and we lost a boatload of closet space (that I am still mourning),  but our thought was that having the space to work hard and play hard was a viable recipe for growing good character in our children.

For the play hard part they now had over seven acres of woods and they went wild.  Each tangle of brush that looked the same to me had a designation...Valley Forge, The Wilderness, all nods to the battles re-enacted on site.  It was nigh unto impossible to drag them in each night for bath and bed and I had no clue that children could get so dirty--keep in mind that at this point we only had one son, the dirty soldiers I am referring to were the girls!

For the work part we got goats.  We wanted something that we could milk, and a friend's description of their goats won me over.  We had been going to the Houston Livestock Show for years and I was fascinated by the livestock judging and really wanted to try showing, so when we went goat shopping I made sure that I told everyone that I contacted that we wanted to show as well as milk for the family.  I was determined, I just knew that if it was put off it would never get done (I know that Robert Frost penned "way leads on to way" in commemoration of our home!).  Thus I set my face like a flint towards the goal of having goats on site before I delivered baby number nine.  Have I mentioned that we moved the same day that I started my third trimester of pregnancy?  So the girls and I were out in the heat pounding T-posts and building fences the first few months that we were in the country.  Each night Tim came home from his city job and we showed him the progress made.  I am sure that he knew that to do anything other than praise the eight months pregnant wife's fencing skills would be unwise so he did as expected and just said "looks great, honey!".  We brought home our first two goats, Nyla and Zelda on September 28.  I delivered Noah on October 8.  The rest is, as they say, history.  Often hilarious, occasionally heartbreaking, usually educational, never boring history.

I cannot believe that it has been eight years.  I cannot believe that I have four children who have never lived anywhere but the farm and six children total who really have no memory of life anywhere but the farm.  I cannot believe that we have actually made a business from this endeavor.  I cannot even begin to put into words the life lessons that have flowed from this exquisitely rich life, but I am trying anyway.  I sat down today to try to shape my thoughts into book format, only realizing after words poured out for almost two hours straight, that today was the anniversary of our move from city to farm.  I like that.  It fits.