My 33 Goats - Part 1 - The Dream

This is the story of my 33 goats.  This is the story of how I came to hold the dream of my urban homestead I call Zinnia's Way.  It is a documentary in 8 parts.  This week, welcome to Part 1 - The Dream.  Stay tuned each week for subsequent episodes.  Hopefully, over the 8 weeks, you will gain a deeper understanding of why I feel called to do what I do here.  Hopefully, by the end of the airing of all 8 of these episodes, I will have a clearer picture of where I am going with my little urban farm.  Hopefully, I will know better, I will know more of what is becoming, what is to become of, my dream, my goats, my farm, Zinnia's Way.  Thanks for tuning in!

My 33 Goats - Part 1

From the transcript:

I am an optimist by nature.  In the throes of doubt, destruction and decay, it seems I somehow always manage to find a glimmer of hope.  My art after all is turning trash into treasure.  My alchemical art is transformation, transmutation, fortunately, or unfortunately, I guess you could say.  And trust me, a lot of people are beginning to say unfortunately.  But this is a gift to me.  This is my opportunity to transform.  This is my opportunity to find courage.  This is my opportunity to shine, I believe.

Since I was in high school, I have had a dream of having my own, self-sufficient farm, a homestead.  It started off as a fantasy of something sweetly romantic.  An old, abandoned farmhouse, just down the road from where I grew up.  A vision of chickens, rabbits, ducks, cows. And gardens.  Lots of lush gardens full of herbs and vegetables, fruit trees and hollyhocks, lots and lots of hollyhocks.  It was an aspiration on the lines of an Old MacDonald’s Farm.  Very eclectic.  Very traditional, very and continued on that way for quite some time.  Over 30 years.

Much of that dream probably originated from growing up on a farm.  But the farm I grew up on was much more mainly cows, although I remember a flock of chickens, some pigs and always an array of cats and dogs.  My parents farm.  I loved growing up there.  It was filled with unlimited opportunity for exploration.  It allowed me to dream.  But also taught me how to work. I remember working in the barn and helping in my parent’s garden.  I guess it is something that I have never really outgrown.  Look where I am.

As a young married woman in the city, in our first apartment, I had a cat and a dog and a little cinder bin in the back yard which I tried to grow a garden in.  I remember growing my first brussel sprouts, and it looks like there were some squash vines growing too, but that's about it.  I did grow some tulips next to the sidewalk in the front yard. 

I didn't know much about healthy soil and what it takes to grow good food.  It was around that time that I began picking up magazines in the grocery store about vegetarianism.  That was all new to this farmgirl.  It began my fascination with organic gardening.

A few years later as a suburban stay at home mom, when my son was young, I gardened in the backyard and made an attempt at raising rabbits to provide organic fertilizer for my few little raised beds. 

His children's books only reinforced my romantic notion of my little homestead.  I thought it would be an ideal way to raise my child.

But instead, a divorce happened.  Life became more complicated.  I lived in apartments and rental houses and always tried to plant some flowers or grow some herbs and veggies in pots wherever I was.

A few years later I remarried, but still in the city, as renters, I only ever had some patio pots, and horrible landscaping soil to play around in.  No digging up the backyard for gardens there.

When we moved to North Carolina, I was hoping to put down roots.  I planted the tiny fig tree that had grown in a pot on the back patio of our Plano home for years.  That fig tree symbolized the roots that I wanted to establish.  My fig tree symbolized hope.

Once settled in from our move, I began to collect piles of homestead magazines.  Backyard homesteading was now within view.  I could finally have my chickens.  Maybe some ducks if we could rationalize a purpose for them.  Would I maybe even be able to get some goats?  I could dream.  And I did. 

To be continued...

Next week, Part 2 - Building the Dream