Written by Rachel Wolf of Clean.
For as long as I can remember I have wanted to live on a small homestead, tucked away in the hills in some quiet corner of Wisconsin. I longed for an old red barn when I lived in an apartment in the city; dreamed of sheep when I was a non-knitting vegetarian.
Why? I can’t explain it. I grew up in the suburbs for goodness’ sake.
When I was ten my only life goal was to live on a farm with my best friend, raise pigs for show, and have a house filled with pets. Fast-forward thirty-some years and most of that dream has come true.
I live with my best friend (my husband) on a small farm in Wisconsin. While we don’t raise pigs, we do have forty-some animals in our care. Or maybe it’s fifty. Frankly I’ve lost count.
Aside from our two homeschooled children, in our charge are six quail, nine ducks, dozens of laying hens, and (until last weekend) eighty (that’s 8-0) meat birds. Add to this our fifteen sheep, five goats, a fledgling fruit orchard, a gaggle of house pets, and a big vegetable garden and there are days when I question my sanity.
There are days I can’t seem to locate anything that even resembles my sanity.
With milking and fencing and weeding and canning and mucking and tending – time is often thin.
And I wonder, “I’m supposed to ‘do school’ when?”