Minimalist Living

Let the record reflect, I am now on target to minimalize/simplify.

So somewhere between what happened to Heff (read: what I “did” to Heff last weekend) and walking past big piles of clutter in my home, I’ve come up with a new mantra: Everyone/thing must have a story….Or else, it’s outta here.

For instance: if I bought you at Pier One because you were on sale, “no story”... But if you were that thing I  bought in England…at the poorest of markets, with my godchild beside me and my best friend in mind….YOU stay. Or ….if you were that goat I went after, after all else had failed… …Well…YOU have a story. Therefore, YOU stay too! With this, I began my introduction to “minimalist living” …Living only with things that matter…Things with stories. Everything else…I am dedicated to clearing out.

(Ok. Just to be clear, let me explain…I plan to move on this theory any day now…Right now, I’m just testing it, though I think it will prove worthy…Well, at least so I thought…until tonight...)

So I’m heading out to put babies to bed…freshening water buckets…handing out last treats…Great time to posit my theory, starting the goats of which I have too many….

Those of you with stories worth sharing…well, clearly WE have a bond. Those with none: I shant send you to market, but you could be my next post on Craig’s list.      

I’m bending over to hug on Rosebud (Rosey’s girl pup I kept…who looks just like her mother) when Angel-Goat (who never saw a flat back she didn't like) jumped squarely on mine. Of course, Angel’s a keeper. She’s here for life. She’s been jumping on my back ever since I pulled her, front hooves first, out of her mother one cold January day. Such a bond we share, Angel and I…Such stories we've lived. But my test is still open for interpretation, after all, I DO need to thin my herd  (having been purely awful at it last week)...I am still mindful. Tasks must be done to maintain the farm.

I head in for the night,  just as sweet Cupid follows me all the way to the gate. Cupid -- one of my first eight—is also THE first to come from a goat farm ( if not an auction) and the first (how much I remember) to allow herself to trust humans again No way would I ever let go of Cupid.

Next up (and slightly more skittish than Cupid) is Vixie (short for Vixen…again, one of my first 8, all named for reindeer, since they all looked alike)…Vix should be an easy release, save for the fact that she contracted pink eye, from a goat I bought at auction two weeks after her arrival…As a result, she kept going to the opposite end of the fence for 2 weeks, meaning for 2 weeks I made special trips with a bowl just for her…No. We’ve got a history. She too, learned to trust again…No way I’d let Vixie go.

Vying for attention ever since Angel was born, is Stella. She’ll probably never have babies. Heck, Stella IS a baby. For life I think she’s assigned herself a baby role, so small and precious is she. Stella was MY baby. Born on Mother’s Day (last year)  no less. Can’t let her go…Plus…Stella’s named for my grandma. Stella’s my girl.

So maybe Gabby (my fawn) who birthed (and all but ignored) her one and only (and my most recent) baby—Charlie…Much as it troubled me then that Gab’s seemed not to be cut out for the whole motherhood thing, well…turns out, Gab’s was not to blame. She was raised to be a circus goat. I babied her. I promised her a better life. What did she know about kid-raising? Can’t blame Gabs. She was raised by me. To let her go just for being a bad mother would reflect poorly on my mothering teaching skills…after all, she was wonderful with goat tricks when she was small…If anything , I caused this. I did.

Which means I also can’t blame Elsie either ..After all, Elsie’s the mama to Stella…and Stella was the one who taught Angel that people are safe…Elsie may have other babies. She was good at that…And they too, will need to be taught (which means we can’t get rid of Stella OR Elsie)

And then there’s Heff…My gosh. How much more can I write about Heff? Heff’s going nowhere. He’s in for life (stench or no stench…God I live for the no stench days)…but Heff’s got a lifetime pass after last week’s episodes…

And Charlie…latest kid on the block…Why he’s the child of Gabs…How could I let Gabby’s baby go? After all…Charlie is where Gabs learned to be a mother…You can’t rob a girl goat of that…or a goat grandma who was there to witness…

Bottom line—leave me here long enough and I can tell you Any and Every goat’s story…and I can justify just what they did and why they are deserving of life itself and why no one (and I mean no one) should rob them of the privilege of living…as in here...forever.

So at the end of the day, all I can say…is I hope I do better with Inanimate objects than I’m doing with animate ones…Cause so far, I’ve got a story tied to everything I love…Even the slightest of memories carves out meaning for me…(If it doesn’t…If I have it here just because I spotted a sale…well, that’s my next yard sale item. And I’m way cool with that. But so far, I can’t imagine what that might be…But as of now, I’m pretty sure it won’t involve critters…We’ll work on the tangible (inanimate) objects tomorrow.)