The journey to Maine.

by goatlove

I left Ohio on Friday, bound for Maine, with a few stops in between.  The trunk of the Camry is crammed to the point of bursting.  On the first leg of my trip yesterday I kept peaking in my rearview mirror expecting to see undies, photos, Carhartts, and my pull-up bar strewn across the highway behind me.  I felt at home being back on the road, though, comfortable now with a ribbon of highway stretched out in front of me.  I had a brief laughter-filled stop outside of Pittsburgh to see an old friend, then it was on to New York City for a weekend visit with my sister, Shannon.  It’s been raining since I pulled up outside her Brooklyn apartment, providing an opportunity for me to try out my shiny, new farm galoshes.  I feel like I look a bit out-of-place in the city wearing my yellow rain slicker and blue galoshes.  But no one notices that sort of thing in New York.

I’m incredibly excited to get up to Maine and start working!  The farmer I’ll be working with told me they’ve had 8 goats kid in the last week with 12 live births.  Hopefully there are still a few buns left in their ovens so I’ll get the thrill of helping with the birthing process.  I’m nervous too, of course.  Mostly because I don’t know what to expect.  Don’t worry though, I already have a back-up plan incase things don’t work out: move to Santa Fe!

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