Menu! Eat In The Pasture!


Nomadic Chef Kevin Campbell, just back from a trip to France where he spent time with his charcuterie master, will be preparing a 5 course meal with locally sourced and farm fresh foods.

Julesbee Lifestyle Photography will be snapping pictures of the event.

Tour the farm, learn the plans for The Goat Cheese Lady Creamery, pet the farm dogs, cuddle the kittens, see the milking goats, get nuzzled by the baby goats, chuckle at the chickens, and enjoy our newest addition…two piglets!

Saturday, June 18, 5-8 pm, The Goat Cheese Lady Farm, Penrose, Colorado.  $100 per person, reservations and prepayment required. 719-651-9819.

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Farm-To-Table Dinner, Saturday, June 18

GCL Farm to Table chef flier

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Remember Chester?

Remember Chester?  Our Thanksgiving Turkey?  Well, he had a stay of execution.  Mostly because he wasn’t from the grocery store and a certain upper echelon patriarchal family member requested a turkey injected with butter and wrapped in cellophane be prepared for the traditional meal, and partly because we never found the time to fix him.


Chester, with his outdoorsy nature, lack of plastic wrap and buttered coating, was not eaten.  He became a third watchdog on our farm, roosting atop an eight inch diameter wooden post taller than the topper on the truck.  Any time the dogs barked, day or night, Chester gobbled.  He, despite his annoyingly testosterone-filled nature, puffing and poofing and African drumming his way throughout the day, dangling his blood colored chin rubies and chameleon-like nose booger…not to mention the wirey Brillo pad look alike that poked out of his chest feathers a few months ago prompting me to thrice attempt to tackle him (unsuccessfully) just so I could feel it, was a fierce protector.  Get near his flock of one female turkey and several chickens and he would do his best to scare you away.  I had recently made the announcement to all hearing ears in my family, that I thought Chester should stay.  I don’t like turkey much anyway.  We might as well keep him for a mascot.


That leads me up to today.  Well, actually yesterday, when kidding season began.  Bell, one of our 8 pregnant does, gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl.  We are bottle feeding them, so it’s as if we have newborn humans again.  Feed every four hours.  That includes 3 am when its cold, dark and…cold…outside and you’d rather be sleeping.  But, no, as dutiful goat farmers, we dragged ourselves outside, Herbert to feed the babies and I into the chilly, starry night to milk Bell.  In the dark (and did I mention, cold?).

True to form, the two watchdogs ran to the fence (they live in the pen with the goats, protecting the herd) and Chester, perched on his pole, puffed and gobbled.  I milked and shivered back to bed as instantly as possible.

Fast forward through what little night was left to this morning.  Herbert went out to feed the animals.  He couldn’t find Chester.  Suspicious, I began sleuthing for clues.  Quickly, I noticed the Chester colored pile of feathers next to the garden.  Scanning the pasture, a a Chester sized lump came into view.  With a coyote basking in the distance.


Now, I have a question:  What would you do if a coyote killed one of your farm members?

Seriously.  Please answer.

As you know, I grew up a city girl.  I have only recently crossed party lines and become officially a farmer.  So, when I saw that coyote this morning, a mixed rush of thoughts flooded my mind:

  1.  KILL THAT S.O.B.
  2. Wow!  What a beautiful coat it has!
  3. This is why farmers and ranchers are blamed for reducing the wolf population to near extinction in some places.
  4. We can’t kill it, we’ll be just another one of those farmers contributing to the reduction of native species.
  6. What would my friends at the zoo think?
  7. How would my live-in-harmony-with-the-planet friends react?
  8. This is my new reality.
  9. Damn.
  10. Thank goodness Herbert made a safe, locked, fully enclosed nursery for the one day old twins.
  11. Now, what are we going to do?

I found myself slipping quickly across the spectrum of priorities, judging people who might say, “Oh, no!  Don’t kill it!  It is just doing what its natural instinct tells it to do!  You’re the one in its territory!”, to siding with my gut feeling that this Coyote just messed with the wrong farmer.  “You take one of my family, you’re done.  You, Coyote, just trespassed into MY territory and my natural instinct tells me to make sure YOU never happen again.”

Here are some responses from Facebook regarding the question: “What would you do if a coyote killed one of your farm members?”:

 “Take him down- our farm animals are family”
“Shoot it. We think we have a den near us we see them going back to the same area in the mornings. Our Pyrenees keeps them away but we are prepared to get them if they cross the fence.”
“Shoot it”
I would fortify the poultry yard and evaluate the flock to make sure you have an adequate population size to sustain losses to local wildlife and still ensure a good breeding program and meat/egg supply”
“Not an endangered species – shoot it.”
“Shoot it”
It’s part of nature. Do you think it should starve itself? Have you tried talking things through with it?”
“I might drop an Acme Anvil on it.”
What do you answer?  Please, continue the discussion.
–  The Goat Cheese Lady
Posted in Farm Life, Kidding | Tagged , , | 21 Comments

Spring, 2016 Class Schedule!

Milk a goat, play with baby goats, make cheese and eat brunch, a whole farm experience!

We are located 45 minutes south of Colorado Springs in Penrose, Colorado.  It’s a beautiful drive!

To Schedule a Class, Call 719-651-9819

Gift Certificates available for all classes…if you see a class you want to take but not a date that works for you, we can schedule a special class for groups of 4!


The Goat Cheese Making Class! (Basic) 

(Milking, Soft Goat Cheese and Mozzarella making…followed by a farm fresh brunch!) 8:15am to 1:00pm.      Read more…

You will milk the goats and learn to make soft Goat Cheese and Mozzarella with fresh goat’s milk.  You also will be served a farm fresh brunch!  Cost:  $85.  Read more…

*Gift Certificates are Available for All Classes!**

April, 2016 (there will be baby goats!)

Sunday, April 3  (2 Spots Left)

Sunday, April 10 (SOLD OUT)

Sunday, April 17 (SOLD OUT)

Sunday, April 24 (SOLD OUT)

May, 2016 (there will be baby goats!)

Sunday, May 1 (1 Spot Left)

Sunday, May 15 (SOLD OUT)

Sunday, May 22 (SOLD OUT)

CLICK HERE to see 2016, Summer Classes!

(Special Classes/Dates Available On Request!    Weekdays are also available, Just ask!  If You Don’t See A Date That Works For You, Just Ask!)

At this time, we are only scheduling The Goat Cheese Making Class because we are in the busy process of building The Goat Cheese Lady Creamery!  Keep your eyes on your email for when we schedule more classes!  If you’re looking for a soap making class, I highly recommend Diana’s soap making class atBuckley’s Homestead Supply, 1501 W. Colorado, Colorado Springs, CO, 80904.

We look forward to seeing you at The Goat Cheese Making Class this spring! Give us a call at 719-651-9819 to sign up!

Have a great day!

Lindsey and Herbert Aparicio
The Goat Cheese Lady and Mr. Goat Cheese

Posted in Farm Life | 4 Comments

Thanksgiving Dinner, Anyone?

Meet Chester.


But don’t get too attached.  He will be going to Thanksgiving Camp next week.

We’ve raised our own meat before, but never in the form of a turkey.  Or 3 to be more specific.  There’s a first for everything, and they provide a significant amount of entertainment.

As a threesome, they hang together most of the time, and have a stealthy habit of following a farmer close behind when said farmer is not looking, and quickly stopping, rubbernecking, acting as if they had only been innocently scanning for bugs, when farmer turns to investigate.

Turkey:  “Quick, follow her!  She’s on the move!  Let’s see what devilish treachery she’s up to now.  But REMEMBER, keep your cover AT ALL TIMES.”

Farmer:  Those crazy turkeys are following me again.  They must hope I have food.  (Turns to look, concerned they might test her calf muscles for food value).

Turkey:  “Now!  Look for bugs!  Keep your eyes to the side and whatever you do, DON’T look her in the eye.”

Chester is the leader of the pack and appears to be the only male, which, in my view is unfortunate for him.  I’m not sure if male turkeys have testosterone or not (that will be a Google search at a later date) but if Chester does, he seems to be uncomfortably swimming in it.

Male turkeys demonstrate their maleness by puffing up their feathers to mimic their famous counterparts in Kindergarteners-Learn-About-The-Pilgrims Thanksgiving cartoons.  Surprisingly, they look incredibly similar to your childhood hand traced on brown construction paper, cut out and adorned with a beak and feathers.  Feather balls with upright tails may be a dead on attraction to the ladies, but I think the blue face, red danglies, internal African drumming and nose booger definitely seal the deal.  Chester starts out, in the one minute a day (not consecutive) testosterone is not coursing through his veins, looking like this:


But approach a chicken, a dog, a person, a goat, a mouse, and his maleness takes over.  Feathers in full explosion, he HOLDS HIS BREATH until his face turns blue, his pale neck dots turn into flame red dangling warts and the nose booger slithers out.  The nose booger starts it’s testosterone free life as an elevated blip in the topside of the beak, but during the whole breath holding episode, grows to approximately 14 inches.  And flaps.  All over the place.  With every head turn, every gobble-gobble-gobble, every bite of grain, it flaps, flops and surely attracts the ladies (or perhaps scares off predators?).  This entire physical transformation lasts all most of his waking hours.  He should be the spokesman for the side effects warning of a Viagra commercial…if it lasts more than 4 hours….


In the mean time, and only every so often, African drummers sound off a mating call from the depths of his being, as if he needed any more help getting a date.

Would you like to join us for Thanksgiving?

  •  Chester and The Goat Cheese Lady

P.S. This post ran in its edited version on the Indyblog on November 22, 2015.

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Milking in the (cold) wind

Before I went out to milk tonight, in the dark with gale force winds that sounded like they were kicking up a tornado of sorts, I warned my boys that if I wasn’t back inside within 30 minutes to start looking for me under a house in Kansas.  I gave them permission to remove my red slippers.  That of course, I recalled later, makes me a wicked witch… a fact my chore-laden children might not dispute.  

When milking outside under the stars in the cold wind, you first contemplate the state of your pants.  While seated on the kindergarten sized milking chair and leaning forward for long periods, you begin to wish you had worn a belt.  When a cold gust blows, you immediately realize your waistband has migrated south.  Although you are not a plumber, you begin to feel a strange kinship with one as the icy wind travels the fleshy path deeper into your seat, all the while causing you to wish you could let go of the warm teats to cover the exposed skin, but reluctantly deciding not to in an attempt to keep goat feet out of the milk.  

When you return one goat to the pen and grab the next, you have time to readjust your milking attire, only to repeat the above related process again.  This time, however, you aren’t quite as concerned, because the tip of your nose has now frozen and it has begun to run such that you feel the need to catch it.  You are able to keep it in check, but begin hoping the one big (dead) tree on the property, which happens to be within striking distance of you and the milking stand, does not release a large branch in your direction with its next howl.

Time to switch:  Second goat in, Third goat out.  Readjust clothing, sniff multiple times, glance at the waving arms of the tree, and proceed milking, only to notice that your finger tips are now numb.  The only redeeming factor of this facet of your chosen profession is that the goat’s teats are warm.  You gratefully keep your hands on them attempting to thaw your prints while relieving her of milk.

And, finally, the pot nearly full, it’s time for the fourth (and last) goat.  The good news is, she’s like milking a fire hydrant- the milk comes fast and steady.  You’ll be inside soon.  Good thing, because now your ears are numb.  And, with the final few squeezes comes a blasting wind that threatens to cause a milk tsunami in the now full pot.  Quickly, and with fumbling fingers, you put the lid on the pot, goat in the pen and race for the house, clicking your red slippers along the way.

There’s no place like home.

  •  The Goat Cheese Lady

P.S.  This is the unedited version of the post that ran in the IndyBlog on 11-15-2015.

Posted in Farm Life, funny stories, goats, Milking | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments


Last March, (when I count it out on my fingers, it makes 8 months ago), I was diagnosed, for the 7th time in my life, with Minimal Change Disease.  Minimal Change Disesase is a non-life threatening kidney disease that recurs for no apparent reason, and only goes away with Prednisone.  Lots of it. For a long time.

The first time I experienced the disease, I was 13.  At that time, I had a kidney biopsy, a diagnosis and a treatment protocol that was high dosage of Prednisone initially followed by about 6 months of slowly tapering off the medication.  For me, Minimal Change Disease comes on as swelling in the legs and face…the first two noticeable areas of water retention… and foam in my urine, both due to a loss of protein in the urine. If not treated (for example when I was in my 20’s and it recurred and I changed my eating habits to see if it would go away on it’s own…NOT) the swelling continues to get worse. Normally, the kidneys are supposed to keep protein in the body, but during Minimal Change Disease flare ups, they don’t.

Prednisone sets the kidneys straight and fixes the condition, but it comes with a slew of nasty side effects, including increased appetite and weight gain (more on the reality of the side effects later).  In middle school, I started out weighing 135.  In about 3 or 4 weeks, I was at 158.  I announced to my mom one day that if I hit 160, I WOULD NOT BE GOING TO SCHOOL.

As a hormonal, self conscious middle school girl, I could not bear the weight gain much longer.  The good news?  I never hit 160, I continued to go to school.  After it recurred a couple more times in my late teens and twenties, doctors said it “should go away in your late twenties.”  Unfortunately, it didn’t and at 40 I just had my latest… hopefully last…round of Prednisone to, in the words of my doctor, Put Me Back Into Remission.  In my words, To Cure Me.  As of mid August, I finished with Prednisone.  Hopefully for good.*

*Clapping and cheering is appropriate.

Dr. Mallory, my nephrologist for the past 14 years, started me in March, 2015, on 60mg of Prednisone for a week, then dropped the dose to 40mg for a month, then 30, then 20, then less and less and less until I finally reached ZERO in August.  Here is a record of the reality of the side effects of Prednisone.  I share these out of humor (because I lacked much while on the medication), education and to hopefully send a life line out to someone who may be struggling with the side effects right now.  Some are funny.  Some weird.  Some painless. Some constipating.

Here goes (in no specific order and with some anectodes that the pharmacy side effects list doesn’t point out):

  1. Weak fingernails.  They break a lot, peel a lot and become short.  I didn’t realize they were returning to normal until I started poking the goats when I milked, pointing out that, Hey!  You’re off of Prednisone now!  Trim those claws!
  2. Increased appetite.  Not just, I’d like a snack, but, I’d like to eat that entire loaf of bread. Or perhaps the whole container of ice cream.  And, why not another plate of loaded nachos?    In my experience, the internal switch in your stomach that tells you you’re full and should stop eating stays permanently OFF.  When on Prednisone, you never realize you’re full until the skin of your back, sides and abdomen starts hurting, kind of a tearing feeling that you’re sure will be followed by trails of stretch marks, because it is not immediately prepared to encompass the size of your exploding waistline.
  3. Constipation.  Remember all the food you just ate?  And the stretching, tearing feeling of your abdominal skin?  Well, you are now out of luck, because you can’t poop.
  4. Heartburn.  Randomly attacks with quite a high level of violence, causing you to, again, ingest whatever you think might calm it.  Bread, milk, fennel tea, milk of magnesia, pepto bismol, cookies, cheese.  It doesn’t.
  5. Dry skin.  Cracks in your fingers and toes made worse by the dry Colorado air.
  6. Cravings.  This goes along the lines of #2, but I craved melted coconut oil mixed with cocoa powder, chia seeds and maple syrup.  Three times a day.  I’m not kidding.
  7. Your hair stays in.  This could be a beneficial side effect for a balding person, because for me, my long hair actually stops falling out.  Once I’m off the Prednisone, hold the phone.  My hair starts falling out again with a vengance and drains start clogging right and left.
  8. You have no pain.  This is a good thing, right?  Well, I suppose so, yes, if you actually realize how much pain you would be in if you weren’t on Prednisone.  This milking season, which fired up in March, was amazingly pleasant!  I slept through each night without my hands going numb or my shoulders aching!  I wondered why this year would be any different from previous years, but never connected the dots…until I got off the Prednisone and my hands promptly fell asleep and my old arthritic toe began causing me to limp.  What I had not realized was the wonder drug had also been masking some new farming (or aging?) side effects, multiple joint hand arthritis, and milker’s elbow.
  9. Sensitive teeth.  To cold and hot.  Makes devouring the container of ice cream a little less desirable.
  10. Insomnia.  I actually love this!  I get more things done than ever!!
  11. Irritability.  Yep.  Makes Mommy not too fun to be around sometimes.
  12. Acne.  Seriously?  Are you serious?  Acne and I’m FORTY???
  13. Metal Mouth.  My mouth tastes like metal, no matter how much I brush my teeth.
  14. Joylessness.  I hadn’t realized this until I was off the medication, but as my usual self, I find joy and laughter in small things everywhere!  That is just beginning to return, causing me to realize that it had left.  During my stint on Prednisone this time, I simply did not feel any joy.
  15. Bone loss.  Osteoporosis is a risk as is joint degeneration.  So far, so good, except for the aforementioned arthritis.
  16. Fat Redistribution.  This causes Moon Face, Buffalo Hump and a tractor tire around your midsection.
  17. Moon Face.  It’s really called that.  Any form you used to have in your face, ie wrinkles, cheekbones, temples, becomes buried in a fat insulated skin covered ball with holes for breathing, hearing, eating and seeing.
  18. Buffalo Hump.  It’s really called that, too.  That bone that sticks out at the base of your neck is covered by fat and no longer palpable.  You might as well go wander the plains of the Old West.
  19. Tractor Tire.  I made this one up, but whatever you had of a waist now requires at least two pant sizes larger and elastic waistbands become your friend.  Even if you’re 20.
  20. Quintuple Chin.  The only benefit to the multi-chin laden support system called your neck that now holds up your Moon Face is that if you fall asleep on the airplane, you have a built in pillow.  You just have to snuggle right in to the new found folds of flesh that billow off of your mandible.
  21. Hair growth.  Specifically in the facial region.  You contemplate sideburns, a new career as Elvis, or perhaps posting your new braiding techniques on Pinterest.

Being 40 and on Prednisone for 6 months has presented a new challenge:  I went from 152 to 172 (which sucked, but I expected it) BUT even though I have been off for close to two months, I’ve lost only about 7 pounds.  In all of my past experiences, I return to my normal size quickly, almost without even thinking about it.  Not so when you’re 40.  Dang.

I’ve needed to share all of this for quite a few months now, but it never was the right time. Now, I’m sitting on the deck, late at night with a glass of wine, two months out of the trenches.

I am thankful I am well.  I am thankful my husband and children put up with me through it all.  I am thankful Minimal Change Disease is just that: Minimal.  In light of all of the other ailments people experience, I am thankful mine is fixable.  I am thankful that I am beginning to feel joy and thankfulness and laughter again.

For all of you who took classes with me this summer, thank you.  You probably didn’t know it, but you helped me get out of bed.

  •  The Goat Cheese Lady



Posted in classes, Farm Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 16 Comments