Farming is hard. In no small part because of this very key irony: To be a good farmer and to be drawn to the whole life, you need to be a planner. One who is ready and willing to play the long game. One who doesn’t mind looking years in advance. Again I say, a control freak a planner. However, there are so many factors in play that are outside any human control that can completely ruin any chance of success. Weather, precipitation, temperature. Disease. Pests. Etc. So one who farms goes into it knowing full well that they could plan and execute every single thing perfectly and still fail. We are an odd lot.

One of our goat babies probably won’t make it much longer. He has scours…which is severe diarrhea. That is most likely because we had a very warm/short winter with lots of rain. Perfect for parasites, fungal diseases, and bacteria. Terrible for fragile baby goats.

One of our rabbits died yesterday. Naomi’s favorite. We had Layna’s birthday party (more on that next week!) and her friend wanted to hold a bunny. She insisted on holding the rabbit on her back like a baby. Later in the afternoon we found the rabbit dead and I researched only to find that I absolutely should have corrected the little girl because being held on their backs is terrifying. Our rabbit literally was scared to death.

Why do I keep doing this? Why do I keep creating situations that only serve to remind me how much I don’t know and have left to learn? Yet another case in point…new bees come in two weeks.

Sigh.

Well…I guess…It’s because of tiny moments of beauty. Tiny moments that make me smile. The victories are small, but they are powerful.

Powerful enough that I will probably do this farm thing to some degree for the rest of my life.