We have arrived in Vermont. More than just arrived, really; we have assisted with a few morning chores on the farm, moseyed around an indoor farmers' market, unpacked our bags at the "Fish & Game", and consumed truly delectable cow and goat milk cheeses fresh from our new place of employment. For the next few months, our job is to help the does of Consider Bardwell do theirs: kid! While definitively starry-eyed and sleepy from a great many hours spent in the car, it feels surreal and enlivening to be in Vermont; to be in a landscape wholly unlike the Midwestern one we know and love. But therein lies the mystery and motivation of travel—to befriend a new landscape and the people (and animals) who call it home.
For us, Vermont has always called. Two years ago we spent an afternoon exploring southeastern Vermont while visiting our sister in New Hampshire—an oddly poignant, if brief, experience. We were taken with the beauty of the Green Mountain State and have since learned about the small farm landscape, the flourishing craft brewing community, and a state law prohibiting unsightly billboards (that is to say, all billboards) along the side of the road. What not to like?
Unpacked and beginning to settle in, we know that we will have to get our bearings about us rather quickly. With ninety does set to give birth over the course of three days next week, we have our work cut out for us. The good news is that with one day down, we still feel confident that goats (and pigs, and chickens, and farm life in general) are for us.