Well, the goats have gone. Grumpybum and I talked long and hard around this one, and decided that we needed to find new homes for our four goats. With her back shot, she can't manage them on her own when I'm at work, and we can't afford to keep supplementing their feed -- we were buying lucerne through the winter, when there should have been sufficient feed; the Moon knows what we'd have to do over winter to keep them alive. If we are to be modestly self-sufficient and run this property sustainably, we need to be pragmatic and ditch systems that don't do the job.
So, the four goats, three of which we'd raised from a kid, have now been rehoused with some wonderful folk around Victoria, with better prospects that we could offer. It was such a tear to see them loaded into the trailer, particularly my beautiful mammoth Hermes who is the gentlest beast I know, a true messenger of patience and goatly manners.
The chook yard has been resting these last couple of months, after the hens were expatriated to a good home across the road. It's time to get more girls -- I miss their satisfied clucking and simple wisdom after a hard day's grind. And the eggs too, of course; enough for our needs, giveaways for the family and some for sale at work. They're on order and almost grown old enough for collection.
The garden's planted up with seedlings and seeds, but the frost caught us unawares last night and blighted the corn and capsicums, so we may have to replant. Never take anything for granted in the country, especially if living on the Great Dividing Range :)
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