Maybe milking a goat isn’t on your bucket list. Maybe you think I’m a touch eccentric to so boldly admit that I’ve always wanted to milk a goat. Maybe I am eccentric, but I’m also unequivocally stoked that I was able to cross milking a goat off my bucket list. Better yet, I managed to keep the goat from putting her foot squarely in the middle of that bucket, or knocking it over for that matter.
Lee is really enjoying his gig as a goat-cheese salesman, and I am too. Every morning that he works the farmers’ market, he slips off at 5:30 a.m., leaving behind coffee in the old-fashioned silver percolator for me. Although I miss our weekend mornings sipping coffee together, Lee’s return from the market is like receiving a surprise gift basket every day.