Goat "Husbandry?"

Husbands are often very useful creatures - they fix things, build things, move things and perform routine vehicle maintenance. My husband is even more useful than most. There is almost nothing mechanical that he can't figure out, nothing broken he can't repair, no  roof or ladder too high to climb, nothing too heavy to carry or relocate. (He once moved a full-size storage shed by himself by devising an elaborate system of levers, explaining to me later that "it's all about physics.") And years of watching This Old House have given him expertise in all aspects of construction, plumbing, electric and home repair. Last Christmas I admired an elegant glass-enclosed bookcase in a pricey furniture store, lamenting that I didn't have a thousand dollars to spend for it, and Mike went home and built one in the garage from scrap wood and old windows - nearly identical to the one in the store.

Unfortunately, my husband's skills keep him in constant demand from friends and family seeking his help, and nearly every weekend he is called away to fix someone's car, move something, or help with a home project. This is fine from an altruistic standpoint, but it also means that he is rarely home to work on projects here. After weeks of reminding him about our leaking kitchen sink and broken light fixture in the basement, I decided to make an "appointment" and asked him to stay home just for one weekend to help me with a few items.  As it turned out, he still agreed to help other people Friday night and Saturday morning, but I kept my list ready for Saturday afternoon.

The girls and I had been busy while he was away, starting some spring housecleaning and sweeping out the goat shed (did you wonder when I would get to the goats?) Since wet weather was in the forecast, I had the girls strategically layer the discarded hay and straw from the shed on all the bare patches around the goat yard, places where the grass got trampled down and water collects. It gave the yard a "barnyard" sort of look, but I figured that was better than tracking mud everywhere. I thought it was a pretty good plan. Emerson and Elliot disdain eating any hay that has touched the ground, and it seems so wasteful not to use it somewhere...

My husband had  a very productive afternoon. He fixed the sink, replaced the ceiling fixture, changed some light bulbs in the garage, planted two blueberry bushes and brought up a load of rocks from the creek for a stone wall he is building. He even burned some trash and grilled steaks for dinner. As we were getting ready to eat, he carefully crossed off all the tasks on my list, then turned to me and added, "Oh, and all that loose hay around the goat yard? I raked it up for you and burned it."

Well, at least the steaks were delicious...