Hillary: I’m On Facebook

It is true. 

Not in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get on Facebook.  I have actually openly refused it, ignored it, judged it, and stated that it would never happen. 

My friend Hillary, and many other baby shower celebrants, were witness to this.

It was like this:

My sister was lots of months pregnant with the icicle.  Mom and I went to Denver to her baby shower. 

I in my white cotton dress that is the dress of my Laura Ingalls dreams, wearing my great grandmother’s cameo locket.  In other words, looking rather farm-girl-old-fashionedish.

All others in attendance were self-proclaimed city girls.

I had just finished explaining that I have goats and milk them twice a day.  That I used to be a city girl, like my sister and like them.  And that I am now a converting farm girl.  It was a rather interesting, awe producing ( I like to think), crazy (they like to think) conversation.

Then began the discussion of who is on Facebook, and various excerpts of Facebook experiences.

Hillary:   “Are you on Facebook?”

Me:  (With look of disbelief)  “I have goats.” (full emphasis on goats.  Duh was left unspoken.)

It was left as a mutual understanding The Goat Cheese Lady is not on and will never be on Facebook.

Until, eh-eh, now.

With a lot of advice from friends and husband, I was convinced that it would be a good idea to get on Facebook.  However, let it also be understood that I have nearly no idea how to use Facebook.  I can log on.  I can read whatever shows up.  I can click on stuff.  But, I’m not sure of much else.  So, don’t, even for a second, think that I will be able to respond in any timely manner if you contact me via Facebook.

No, this is not an Excuse To Fail, my beloved Judy Barnett.

It is simply a delay tactic to allow me to learn how to do it.  And to remember to do it.  And to continue along my path of acceptance that I am doing it.

So, Hillary, I AM ON FACEBOOK!!!  Actually, not me.  I will take no personal credit for it.  The offending party is The Goat Cheese Lady.  Blame (or thank?) her.

–  The Goat Cheese Lady, Now On Facebook.

P.S.  To My Husband:  I learned how to blog, honey, I promise I’ll learn to use Facebook without too many more repeat lessons from you.

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About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Then I was an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life. Now, after moving to the country, I have embarked on life as a rural farmgirl, complete with my husband, the Animal Whisperer, man of exceptional knowledge and patience, two boys who are louder than my sister and I ever were, a herd of milking goats, and a flock of egg-laying chickens. Coyotes, mice, country dogs and prairie dogs are frequent visitors. Just 45 minutes north is Colorado Springs, the setting for our first six years in the goat world. Our family. Our city friends. Our introduction to cheesemaking. But we...and our growing farm and soon-to-be creamery...have set up shop down off of Highway 115 in Penrose, Colorado.
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