We started our holiday season somewhat unconventionally this year. Only a few days after I’d arrived, Mom and I had already devised to build a small 3 sided barn, as a Christmas gift. The day before Thanksgiving, we rode out to the local pine sawmill just before quitting time. An awkward man, named Harold, helped us gather our 4x4s and 2x4s and load them into the van. We looked like country bumpkins as we travelled home with the back door of the van hanging open with our wood literally reaching from the front dash to the bumper.
On Thanksgiving Day, we began building the barn toward the Northeast side (downwind) of the house. Loosely following a design we found on the internet, we began with leveling the ground and cementing the posts. This is where the “loosely following” part comes in because we had planned to dig 2 foot holes for the posts but barely managed to make it to 18 inches each. We figured the cement would take care of the rest. It literally took all day (don’t let me exaggerate too much- keep in mind that the sun begins its descent at 5pm out here and I rarely make it out of the bed before 10am) to finish cement the four posts into the ground.
Instead of Black Friday, we enjoyed a Work Friday. Haha! We continued our work on the barn, putting the frame into place. Once we finished this, we were out of wood. Our plan was to rent a small trailer from U-Haul to carry the rough pine slats we planned to use in building the walls. However, we wanted to make the most of our rental and go up to Dolores to get some Aspen scraps from the mill there before we returned it, but the Aspen sawmill was closed until Monday.
So when Monday dawned, we got our trailer and headed to the Pine sawmill. When Mom went into the office to request the rest of the wood, our weird, old friend Harold was there to ask her, “Did you bring your daughter with you?” AHH! I was mortified when Mom told me. As we were loading the 80 boards of rough pine, he and his 20 year old son drove by for an introduction, which Mom cleverly left me out of. Yay! I later told her all she had to say was, “This is my 25 year old daughter, Brandi, who’s about to move to Africa,” Judging from appearances, Harold and his young son would have lost interest at that.
It was bitterly cold the next few days and even snowed, but Mom was quite dedicated. We worked intermittently and the barn had all three sides by last Sunday. Mom, Katie, and Hannah even constructed two thirds of a fence, which they finished Tuesday morning. This brings me to the eventful procuring of the three goats from a nearby family.
Everyone but Dad piled into the van to get the new family additions (that is, the goats) at dusk. The owners weren’t able to meet with us any earlier than 5pm. When we arrived to the house to pick up the three goats, everyone bounded around the house (except I stayed in the warmth of the van, which proved to be a poor choice).
The former owner brought the billy goat out first and handed him off to Joshua near the van. Joshua stood with the tether for several minutes attempting any and all maneuvers he could conjure up to get the goat into the back of the van. “Get on up in the van, boy,” he said in a gentle voice that grew harsher as the goat’s stubbornness persisted. “Up,” Joshua commanded as he pulled slightly on the rope before turning to me and saying, “Can you please help me?” I told him to put the goat’s front legs on the bumper first and then the hind legs.
After the goat managed to get into the van, he also jumped up on the back seat that we had laid down and Joshua promptly handed to rope over to Caleb. I only hope words are adequate to explain the scene that unfolded. Caleb was scrunched up between the middle seat and the door of the van holding the billy goat’s rope. I was seated in the front seat, where I could effectively watch but remain out of “danger.” Caleb and I were both a little wigged out by the goat. So, Caleb is holding the rope as loosely as possible, which led me to believe the goat would easier jump closer to the front. Caleb began begging me to hold the rope. “It’s ok, Caleb, you’re doing a good job. Just talk sweetly to it,” I replied. Which he did for a few seconds before commenting on how the goat’s eyes were really creeping him out. So, as the goat continued to neigh or baa or talk or whatever it is that sound is called, Caleb screamed for me to hold the rope, and I screamed for him to not let the goat jump the seat. It’s really hard to determine who, out of the three of us, was the most scared, but I will say that Caleb was definitely the bravest.
It probably wasn’t five minutes before everyone else came out with the other two goats, but it felt like forever trying to hold that goat at bay. Mom efficiently loaded the two female goats into the back of the van and we made our way home. Two adults, four kids, and three goats. We have to keep up our country bumpkin appearances. =)
Once we finally made it home, after a few screams, Mom told me to hold Selah (my German Shepard) and for Joshua to hold Boomer (his Lab/Mastiff) until everyone could be properly introduced. It’s dark and cold by this time with snow still on the ground. So I’m sitting on the steps by the garage, holding Selah and Joshua is bent down a few feet behind the van with Boomer. Mom comes around to get the billy goat out of the van, which went on without a hitch. Then Mom gets the small nanny goat out and gives Katie the rope to hold. So at this point, we have two people holding barking dogs, two people holding skittish goats and then Hannah and the larger nanny goat come bounding out of the van. Hannah told me later that she had given the goat a little slack on the rope, expecting the goat to get down first and then wait for her to get out of the van. Obviously the goat had no such notions. So the goat and Hannah are barreling out of the van, Hannah’s arms and legs flailing about as she tries to keep up. Not too far into the driveway, Hannah gives up. So we now have two people holding barking and wiggling dogs, two people holding skittish and antsy goats, and two people chasing a loose goat. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the chaos of that moment or the way my sides hurt from laughter every time I think about it.
Dad came out and took Joshua’s place holding Boomer because Katie needed help herding the goat to the barn. The dogs were straining so hard, we finally decided to let them in the house for a minute (shh…don’t tell Mom. Haha!)
After they had gotten two of the goat safely into the barn, we let the dogs out and Joshua, Caleb, and I went out to follow the tracks of the escapee. We had just pasted the garden in the front yard (past the fountain), when we hear Hannah screaming and look to see the dogs are circling the lost goat on the front porch. The poor animal ran toward the donut pond out back as Caleb’s screaming and wailing violently, “They’re killing the goat! Hurry! They’re gonna kill her!
“By the time we reached the scared goat and the snarling dogs, we discovered that the goat was stuck on a small puddle of ice and the rope tied to her collar was also stuck in her back left hoof. It was all we could do to get the rope untied and keep the dogs from yapping at her. Then Hannah and I led the goat to the barn together as Joshua tackled Boomer to restrain him.
The entire evening was more comical than nearly anything I’ve ever experienced. Needless to say, life on the farm never holds a dull moment.
