The only residual ill effects from last week's goat scare appears to be some newfound skittishness on our doeling's part. Not that I blame her. After all, if someone pushed a syringe down your throat six or seven times whenever they picked you up, jabbing you in the shoulder now and then for good measure, you'd probably be a bit gunshy too.

Actually, Aurora is just fine as long as I'm walking or sitting down. But if I stand too close to her, she has a tendency to run away.

Which wouldn't be a problem if Artemesia and I hadn't developed a fondness for grazing on the other side of the creek. (Okay, she grazes while I soak in the deep hole, letting the minnows nibble on my feet.)

The trouble is, our doe has learned how to cross on the stepping stones, but our doeling has not. Back before Aurora got sick and Punkin got put in weaning time out, I'd just grab a kid under each arm and carry them across. But nowadays I have to sit beside the water and pretend to be reading to tempt our doeling to come close enough to be grabbed.

To my relief, while I soaked in the creek and pondered the problem Monday, Aurora figured out the stepping stones. "Now you have no reason to pick me up!" our little princess proclaimed. "Let us all eat grass!"

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About us: Anna Hess and Mark Hamilton spent over a decade living self-sufficiently in the mountains of Virginia before moving north to start over from scratch in the foothills of Ohio. They've experimented with permaculture, no-till gardening, trailersteading, home-based microbusinesses and much more, writing about their adventures in both blogs and books.



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