Circle of Life and Death

It's an odd feeling, being so involved with the life of the farm. I woke up this morning with alfalfa littering the floor of my room, a pile of dirty goat bedding, and a sneaking suspicion that a certain fuzzy black critter needed to be fed. Later, I had fed the rest of the family, tended to their whims, and connected with the other animals. A couple hours later, and we were skinning the baby goat that we lost, and scooping out her brains to tan her hide. Sounds gruesome, and in a way it is, but it gives me a sense of pride that we are using and celebrating all the parts of the system. I've got one hand nurturing life into a goat, and another holding the skinning knife. And I enjoy being so deep in this farm that I find myself fading into my environment. Closer and closer to hive-mind, working as a group. Deep and meaningful partnerships become the means to eat, the moments of heartbreak and celebration.