Don’t Resist

 Here’s how it started the other night.  Me.  Peacefully finishing up milking the last goat of the evening…Canela. 

The process once finished is this:  Remove red and blue sweet feed bucket from its holder and place by Canela’s shoulder to entice her to remove her head from the guillotine and shove it in the feed bucket again.  Then, move the feed bucket (while dragging her head inside of it) toward the door so she jumps off the stand and leaves so I can clean up.

That process all worked.

Until Dottie made up her mind to FORCE her way in.  Then Lucy on her tail.

When Dottie makes up her mind, it’s nearly impossible for any human to change it.

Reminder:  Dottie is the brown one with the white spottie.  Lucy is black.

Dottie pushes her way through my full body milkroom-doorway-blockade.  I grab her collar.  She spins me around so that my arm is pinned (backwards) against the inside of the milk room wall while my body remains stubbornly outside.  If not for my semi-diligent yoga practice, my shoulder would have immediately popped out of the socket.  However, after 3 seconds of near dislocation, I gave in to Dottie and her brute strength. 

She thundered in straight for the sweet feed bucket.  Lucy jumped up on the stand after her. 

And I, thinking of that old Iroquois saying,  “What you resist, persists,” gave in to the madness. 

I have learned it is easier to fully succumb and then work it out later.  Throw out one goat at a time, safely closing the door afterward so the exiled goat may not return.  Repeat process until 4 goats are removed.

If you try to block all 4 goats (i.e. resist) from entering,

The Goats Will Win (i.e. persist).

–  The Goat Cheese Lady

About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Growing up, the closest thing I had to farm animals were a cat and a cockatiel. In 2009, Herbert (my husband) and I bought our first milk goat and I instantly became an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life..before I knew “urban homesteading” was a thing. That’s when we began The Goat Cheese Lady Farm, hence The Goat Cheese Lady blog you’re visiting now. After moving to the country in 2014, I embarked on life as a rural farmgirl. We continued teaching farm and cheesemaking classes, raising more goats and began construction on our cheese creamery. But life had other plans and in 2017, we decided that, due to financial and health issues, we had to close the farm for business. No more classes, no more creamery, a lot less milking. We went back to off farm jobs, I as an Occupational Therapist, Herbert in construction with his business, D&A Home Remodeling. At that point, I made a silent promise to myself that I would corral my entrepreneurial mind and focus on a job for a year. Well, it has been a year and I am back. Not to classes, cheese, soap or lotion, but back to writing. I love it. I’m not sure where it will lead me, but that’s where I’m starting. I’ll continue to write as The Goat Cheese Lady for now, and whatever the future holds, I’ll let you know. Our two boys are 14 and 11 and continue to be louder than my sister and I ever were. We have two dogs, Montaña and Flash, a cat, Jumpy, a flock of chickens and three goats. Yes, we still have Lucy, the goat who helped us start it all and was milked by over 1,000 people. She’s retired but still the boss. Chocolate provides enough milk for our family with some to spare for the dogs. Soccer friends, school friends, coyotes and mice are frequent visitors. There are way too many flies and every so often we see an owl. I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes you’ll laugh out loud, other times you’ll be inspired to appreciate the small things. My hope is that, over your morning cup of coffee or your afternoon work break, you’ll enjoy the antics and inspiration that are my daily life. Lindsey
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1 Response to Don’t Resist

  1. Monex says:

    We had goats geese chickens cows cats and dogs I was in kid heaven but I had my enemies too. Every day my mother milked the goats and every day the billy goat would rear up on his hind legs paw at the air and bleat at me. I was terrified so my mother gave me a stick I m not sure if that counts as animal abuse or not but the Billy Goat would loom over me and I would wave the stick in his general direction and miracle of miracles he would back off.

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