Facing My Fear

Mike and some of the children went to pick up little Dante yesterday. 

He is a Nigerian Dwarf buck that we hope will be breeding with our does in November or December.

Our does are already two and a half years old and we bought them with the intention of milking.    After they turned one, knowing they were ready to be bred, I delayed.  I let fear prevent me from moving forward with the next step.   It is hard for me to pin point the exact source of the fear, but I think it has been the combination of keeping a buck (I have heard how smelly and disgusting they are in rut), birthing, and milking.  

Yes, I am sure some of you are thinking I have been doing this myself for about 20 years (birthing seven children and breastfeeding for who knows how many years), but for some reason breeding and birthing goats right here on our little homestead seems really scary.  

I am sure, though, that like any new experience, if I avoid it because I am fearful, then I will simply stop experiencing some of the most awesome of experiences.  That is not the way I want to live.   

So I move forward despite the stinky buck (hopefully by November), the birthing worries, and the tied down feeling of morning milkings.  Instead, I am working on  keeping my thoughts focused on the sweet baby goats we will have and the morning routine that I will begin in the spring of heading down to the barn with the stainless steel bucket in hand and put each girl up on the milking stand in turn as the milk bucket slowly fills.