And on that farm he had a miniature mule.
Rainy days. Fresh eggs. Curious goats. Stoic horses.
Few things make me as happy as the smell and velvety touch of a horse’s muzzle. As I was struggling with depression, 5 days on a farm was just what my soul needed to be able to soar again
My uncle works at a small farm at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains in Maryville, Tennessee. We played with the goats, gathered colorful eggs, stroked the horses’ woolly winter coats, hiked in the quiet wood, and cuddled, book in hand, as the rain poured outside.
Every morning, Thing 2 rushed for his boots the minute he heard the rumble of my uncle’s truck coming to feed the horses. Thing 1 got into “shoving matches” with Julie the goat. Nico and Nigel met new friends and enemies when Julie decided to give them a friendly headbutt. I think Brent was the only one to escape Julie. I have never met a more ornery goat. (Not that I’ve met a lot of goats.) She headbutted me into the wall within 2 minutes of our introduction.
I felt free. I felt alive. I felt at home.
Yet, the clouds move and I’m caught in their shadow dance. Being at the farm reminds me at how at heart I’m a country girl who ended up in a beach town. A girl who feels more comfortable in a saddle than on the sand. I’m all too aware that as long as we live in Ventura we will not be able to have goats, chickens, and horses.
Thing 2 keeps asking with excitement in his eyes, “Mama, can we live on a farm?” My little animal boy. How I want to gather him in my arms and say, “Yes we’ll have goats, chickens, and Arabian horses!” When God chiseled horses I’m certain his first was an Arabian.
Now the road is our home but only time will tell where it will take us.
Love and Laughter,
Like food and fitness? Follow along as I film a workout in every state and explore finding a healthy balance on the road at Girl Heroes!