What is seen

Today was the Farm Tour. 9 or 10 people showed up. With that many people standing around engaging is conversation, it’s tricky to just keep track of who asked what and did I actually just say that out loud and where are we going next. So I lost count. Everyone seemed to have a good time. No one fell. Which is always a concern. Viann got a bit too over stimulated while we were looking at the rocket stove. She was stationed on top of the riser barrel taking all the attention that was coming her way. On the ground among 6 or 8 pairs of legs was a bit too much so she stayed mostly on the barrel head. There is a slim chance that she was really irritated with all the touching. Her horns got swung around a good bit and she did this double gainer half back flip rail grind all the while head banging like back in the day. She caught me across the ribs on an upstroke with her horns. I have seen human children act similarly when a lot of company suddenly invades their space. Especially when a couple of them start paying particular attention to them. They tend to go bug shit crazy after a while. A while being less than 10 minutes. Any amount of time substantially longer than whatever is the norm. She rarely gets more than 10 or 15 seconds of scratching from me as she usually skitters off and back so many times it’s a piece of work to not step on her. Ann ( the mom) will get a few strokes now and again when she is still eating and I’m done milking. That’s a lot for her. It’s gotta be a little stressful being a goat in my space, so I give them plenty of room as long as they don’t cross me. Which they almost always don’t do. They are almost always out of the way. Almost. But today, Viann got herself a little lovin.

I can’t help but wonder, as I have many many times, what do people see on their first encounter with this place? Or any place I’ve inhabited for any serious length of time. They won’t see the stacks of metal billboard panels and downspouts that were just sitting there last week. This place isn’t a museum. I don’t live my life that way. I’m the type of fool that takes occasional great overlarge bites of life, gags for a moment and faster or slower digests that great mouthful into something I can make a bit of sense of. This place is my solutions. My collections of little bits of sanity. It’s like looking at a rack of cops fresh out of the kiln. If I look at each cup as an individual, I will notice the flaws and excellence in each of them, but when I step back and see them as a Set. I can see progress and promise rather than failure and frustration. The farm is the same way for me. Only, y’all can’t see the could have and wanted to. You see the IS, you see what is now. A snap shot of here. A snap of our life.

I would like to extend a thank you to everyone who came. Especially Sandy who makes pies at the farmer’s market. It is a wonder to see child-like revery in people’s eyes when they are faced with a situation that reminds them of their far past youth. There is a sparkle when white haired women talk of their grandmother’s habits. They speak of things lost. Traditions left in the dust. Till now. We are seeking out those Ways. They made sense for centuries before now. Most of them still do.

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