Blog

If you spend any time around homesteaders, you’ve probably heard the same thing:

“Goats are escape artists.”

“Never trust a goat around a fence.”

“Goats will find a way out.”

“Your goats WILL escape.”

Okay.

Apparently, my goats didn’t get the memo.
Because in all the years I’ve had goats, not one of them has broken out.

Not one.

I have Nigerian Dwarfs, Nubians, LaManchas, Alpines, Mini Nubians…

A whole herd of little hooved troublemakers.
And somehow, they stay where they are supposed to stay.

Sure, they will stand at the fence and stare at me like they are plotting my downfall.

They’ll climb things they shouldn’t.
They’ll stick their heads into places that make absolutely no sense.
But actually escaping?
Nope.

My goats have apparently decided to respect property boundaries. My cows, however, have absolutely no respect for anything.

Especially my bull.

That boy has horns, muscles, confidence, and apparently zero regard for private property. His latest escape wasn’t even through a gate.
He decided the fence itself was offensive.

So he used those beautiful horns we love so much to create a GIANT HOLE in the fencing. Because apparently walking through an opening wasn’t dramatic enough.

No.

He needed to MAKE an opening.
And then, of course, he got out.

Because why wouldn’t he?

There I am, once again, dealing with a cow who has apparently decided that the grass on the other side of the fence is worth committing a felony over.

Meanwhile, my goats are standing behind their fence like:

“We would never.”

And honestly?

They’re right.

My goats are starting to look like the responsible livestock around here.

THE GOATS.

The animals everyone warned me about.
The animals famous for escaping.
The animals people swear will make you question every life decision you’ve ever made.
Meanwhile, my cows are over here treating the homestead like an escape room.

And my bull?

He’s apparently trying to earn his GED in Fence Destruction.
The funniest part is that we actually like horns around here.

We like our goats with horns.

We like our cattle with horns.

We appreciate what they have and we’re not going to pretend horns aren’t useful.
But buddy…

You don’t have to use yours to remodel the damn fence.
At this point, I’ve stopped worrying about whether my goats are going to escape.
I’m more concerned about whether my cattle are going to wake up one morning and decide:

“You know what this place needs? An exit.”

So when someone tells me, “Be careful. Goats are escape artists,” I just smile.
Because around here, the goats aren’t the problem.

The goats are the well-behaved ones.
The cows are the ones with the criminal records.
And the bull?
He’s currently on fence probation

Thank you for reading! Please share!!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #cows #highlandcow #sunday

#horns #howdidthecowsgetout

Apparently, there is a new thing we need to worry about in the homesteading world…
“Fake homesteads.”

Yes. You read that correctly.

Apparently, if you post pretty pictures of your animals, your garden, your fresh eggs, or a beautiful sunset over your property but fail to include the junk pile and 47 pounds of poop in the background, someone might accuse you of being fake.

Well, shit.

Literally.

I guess I’ve been doing homesteading wrong.
Because apparently I’m supposed to start photographing my goat poop for authenticity.

“Good morning, everyone! Today we have a beautiful sunrise, a happy herd, and approximately 63 fresh goat turds. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!” 😂

I guess I’ve been doing homesteading wrong.

Listen, I understand what people mean.
Homesteading isn’t always pretty.

There are muddy boots.
Dirty barns.
Broken fences.
Flies.
Dust.
Sweat.
Feed everywhere.
Animals doing things they absolutely should not be doing… and that one chicken who apparently believes the entire homestead is her personal bathroom.

But here’s the thing…

I don’t have a junk pile.

My husband would probably have a stroke.
He has a place for everything, and if something doesn’t have a place, then its in the trash.

Now, do we have a pile of chicken feed bags?

Oh, absolutely.
And apparently the children have decided that the trash bin is approximately 14 miles away because somehow those bags magically remain sitting exactly where they were dropped.

Every.
Single.
Time.

But that’s not really a “junk pile.”
That’s a parenting failure with chickens. 😂
And yes, we have poop.
Lots of poop.
We’re raising animals.

Poop is basically one of the founding members of the homestead.
But I’m not going to photograph it just so someone on the internet can say, “See! Now THAT’S a real homestead!”

No.

I’m good.

If you’re genuinely excited about looking at piles of poop, though…
I’m not judging.
But maybe talk to someone. 😂

And here’s where I think we need to calm down with the whole “fake homestead” thing.
If someone posts beautiful photos, it doesn’t automatically mean they’re pretending homesteading is perfect.

Maybe they just don’t feel like posting the ugly stuff.
Maybe they took 37 pictures that day and the only decent one didn’t have a shovel, a broken bucket, and a pile of chicken feed bags in the background.

Maybe they simply wanted to share something beautiful.
And that’s okay.

We don’t demand that food bloggers photograph their dirty dishes before showing us dinner. We don’t demand that photographers show us every blurry picture they took before posting the good one.

So why do we expect homesteaders to prove their authenticity by showing us their poop?
Homesteading has enough actual problems.
Let’s not invent a new one.

I follow people because I learn from them.
Because I relate to them.
Because they make me laugh.
Because they teach me something I didn’t know.
Or sometimes…
because they have ridiculously cute goats.

That’s it.

I don’t need to see their entire property looking like a disaster zone to know they’re legitimate, And honestly, sometimes the pretty moments are the moments worth sharing.

The baby goat jumping around.
The first garden harvest.
A quiet morning with the animals.
Fresh eggs.
A sunset.
A successful milking.

Those moments are part of homesteading too.
Just because we’re not showing you the part where we’re covered in dirt, sweating, swatting flies, and questioning every decision we’ve ever made doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

You can show the pretty without pretending the ugly doesn’t exist.
So yes, my homestead has poop.

Yes, there are chicken feed bags that apparently my children believe are permanent decorations.

Yes, there are messy days.

Yes, there are days when homesteading kicks my ass.

But if I want to post a picture of a cute goat looking adorable in the sunshine instead?

I’m going to.

Because sometimes I want to remember the beautiful part.
And sometimes…
I just don’t think the internet needs to see my goat’s bathroom habits.

You’re welcome. 😂

Thank you for reading. Please share!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #PleaseShare #thankyou #sunday #goats #selfsufficientliving

It’s that time of year again.

The time when people collectively lose their minds over pumpkin spice.
Suddenly, everything needs to be pumpkin spice.

Coffee? Pumpkin spice.

Candles? Pumpkin spice.

Soap? Pumpkin spice.

Cereal? Pumpkin spice.

Toilet paper? Okay, I’m exaggerating… but give them time.

If they can figure out a way to shove pumpkin into it, somebody is going to do it.
Now, I’m going to admit something that may get me kicked out of the fall-loving community.
I don’t really care for pumpkin spice.

There. I said it.

I know. I know.
How dare I?

How can I possibly call myself a fall-loving person if I don’t want my entire existence to smell like a pumpkin bakery?

Now, before you completely disown me…
I do like the doughnuts.

I have standards.

But if you have goats, you know there is another season happening right now.

RUT SEASON.

And honestly?
I would rather smell like a goat than pumpkin spice.

Yep.
I said what I said.

While everyone else is walking around smelling like pumpkin spice candles, pumpkin spice coffee, pumpkin spice lotion and whatever other pumpkin concoction they’ve invented this week…
I’ll be over here smelling like Gabriel.

And if you’ve ever smelled a buck during rut, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
There is no mistaking it.

You don’t have to ask, “Is it rut season?”
Your nose will tell you.
Your clothes will tell you.
Your hair will tell you.

And honestly, depending on how affectionate your buck is, your entire house might tell you.
Gabriel could probably walk into a room and immediately clear it faster than a fire alarm.
And yet somehow, I still prefer that smell to pumpkin spice.

Maybe it’s because pumpkin spice doesn’t come with a personality.

Gabriel does.

Pumpkin spice doesn’t follow me around the pasture.

Gabriel does.

Pumpkin spice doesn’t stand beside me on the milking stand looking innocent while smelling like he has personally committed several crimes.

Gabriel does.

And pumpkin spice definitely doesn’t look at me like, “Yes, woman. I am magnificent.”

Gabriel absolutely does.

So while everyone else is embracing their pumpkin spice era, I’ll be embracing my “I smell like a buck and I don’t care” era.

Give me the hay.
Give me the dirt.
Give me the goat hair stuck to my clothes.
Give me the questionable smell coming from the buck pen.
Give me Gabriel.

Just don’t give me pumpkin spice everything.
Well…
Maybe give me the doughnuts.

I’m not completely unreasonable.

Happy fall, y’all.
May your coffee be strong, your goats be healthy, and your buck stay the heck away from your clean clothes.
Because around here, pumpkin spice may be in the air… but goat rut is in the atmosphere.

These are some of our bucks, thank you for reading. Please share and follow!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #rutseason #BuckLife #goatmom

Let me start by saying this:
I don’t support the use of AI.
But… when something starts making its way around social media and everyone is doing it, curiosity eventually gets the better of me.

There was a trend going around where people were asking AI to create a “warning label” about them.

Now, I figured I’d give it a try.
And let me just say…

Apparently, AI has been paying attention.
Because I don’t care how much you use AI or how much you don’t use it—after reading this, I’m starting to wonder if it’s sitting in the corner somewhere taking notes.

Because this warning label was way too accurate.

⚠️ WARNING: PROCEED WITH CAUTION
You are the kind of person who looks innocent until someone realizes you have goats, chickens, cows, pigs, and approximately 47 opinions about how things should be done.

You live by the philosophy of:
“I don’t need more animals.”
Immediately followed by:
“Okay, but look at this goat.”

You are fiercely independent, slightly sarcastic, occasionally unhinged, and have enough dark humor to make people wonder whether they should laugh or slowly back away.

You will absolutely complain about people while simultaneously admitting that you’d rather spend your day outside with your animals because goats don’t talk shit behind your back.

And honestly?

Fair point.

You don’t particularly enjoy unnecessary people, unnecessary drama, or unnecessary trips to town.

If you drove 45 minutes for supplies, you bought the supplies, and someone says,
“Since you’re already in town…”
Congratulations.
You have just witnessed the beginning of their villain origin story.
There is a reason I don’t make unnecessary trips to town.

I’m not trying to turn a simple supply run into a three-hour social event. I have animals waiting for me at home, and quite frankly, they have better personalities than half the people I encounter in town anyway.

Apparently, I also have a soft heart disguised as sarcasm.
And I’ll admit… that’s probably true.

I care deeply about my family, my animals, and the things I’ve worked hard to build.
But I’m not going to wrap all of that caring nature in a pretty little bow and pretend I’m sunshine and rainbows 24/7.

Sometimes I’m tired.

Sometimes I’m annoyed.

Sometimes I have absolutely had enough of everyone’s nonsense.

And sometimes the only reasonable response is to go outside, talk to the goats, and pretend civilization doesn’t exist for a little while.

I will help someone.

I will defend someone.

I will love an animal like it’s a member of the family.

And then I’ll turn around and make a joke so dark that everyone needs a minute to decide whether they should laugh.

That’s just how I operate.

But apparently the most important part of my warning label is this:
Do not mistake kindness for weakness.
Because being kind doesn’t mean I’m going to let people walk all over me.

Having a soft heart doesn’t mean I don’t have boundaries.
And being nice doesn’t mean I’m going to tolerate unnecessary drama.

So, basically…

WARNING:
She’s friendly.
She’s funny.
She’s a little feral.
She has goats.
She has boundaries.
She has opinions.
She probably has another animal she swears she isn’t bringing home.
And if you annoy her badly enough…
she’ll probably turn it into a blog post. 😂

And honestly, after reading this warning label, I have to give AI a little credit.

I still don’t support using it.
But apparently, it knows enough about me to make me slightly uncomfortable.
Either that…
or I’ve been writing way too much on the internet. 😂

Thank you for reading! Please share or follow!

#mjbackyardingwithkids

#HomesteadLife #GoatCare #HappyGoats #reading #wednesday #itknowsyou #beware #sarahconner #Terminator

I think I finally understand how Barney felt on How I Met Your Mother when he said, “Nobody reads my blog.”

Because… SAME. 😂

I have a blog. I write it. I share it. I talk about it. And yet somehow, I have friends who—until recently—didn’t even know I had one.

And I’m sitting here thinking…
Did I not mention this?
Because I’m pretty sure I did.
More than once.

Which brings me to the bigger question:
Do people actually listen when we talk, or are they just waiting for their turn to talk?

Apparently, sometimes the answer is no.
But here’s the funny part.

The people who DO listen aren’t always the people I know in real life.
It’s strangers.
People I’ve never met.

People somewhere out there on the internet who stumble across one of my posts, read it, laugh with me, relate to something I’ve written, and sometimes even share it with someone else.

And honestly?

That means more to me than you probably realize.
Because when you put your thoughts, stories, and little pieces of your life out there, you never really know who’s going to read them.
Sometimes you wonder if anyone is even paying attention.

Then someone you’ve never met shares something you wrote.
And suddenly you’re reminded:

Oh. Someone IS listening

So to all of you strangers who read my blog, follow along, share my posts, comment, or simply take a few minutes out of your day to read something I’ve written…
THANK YOU. ❤️🖤❤️🖤

Seriously.

You may not know me personally, and I may not know you, but you are a huge part of why I keep writing.

And to my friends and family who just discovered I have a blog…

Welcome.

Glad you finally made it.
I’ll try not to hold it against you.
Too much.

Thank you for reading. Please share and follow!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #PleaseShare #countryliving #reading

Every herd has that one goat who seems to believe rules are merely suggestions. Around here, that goat is Temperance.

Temperance came to our homestead the same day Gabriel did. She was already weaned off the bottle, confident, curious, and ready to make herself at home. It didn’t take long for us to realize she had enough personality packed into her little Mini Nubian body to keep us entertained every single day.

Like most goats, she has a special talent for finding the one thing she isn’t supposed to have. If there’s a piece of baling twine within a five-mile radius, somehow Temperance knows exactly where it is. You can almost hear her thinking, “You said no… but have you considered yes?”

When she’s not trying to sneak forbidden snacks, she’s living her best life on the goat swing. In fact, she was the very first goat brave enough to climb on it. While the others stood around wondering if it was safe, Temperance basically said, “Move over, amateurs,” and claimed it for herself.

These days, our adventurous little girl is growing up. Temperance is pregnant! She’s only about two months along, but we’re already counting down the days until kidding season.

We’ve also started introducing her to the milking stand, and she’s doing an amazing job. It’s always exciting to watch a young doe learn something new, and she’s making us proud with how calm and cooperative she has been.

Now comes the fun part—guessing how many babies she’ll have. Twins? Triplets?   surprises are  coming! Around here, everyone has their prediction, and we’ll just have to wait and see who gets bragging rights.

One thing is certain: if her babies inherit even half of her personality, our barn is about to get a whole lot more entertaining.
Stay tuned, Temperance. We can’t wait to meet your little ones.

Thank you for reading, please share and follow!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #pleaseshare #thankyou #goats #goatmom #wednesday

There seems to be a little misunderstanding about living in a rural area.
When I say I’m “going into town,” that does not automatically mean I’m heading out for a fun little social excursion.

I’m not going to town to browse the shops, sip coffee, catch up with everyone I’ve ever met, and maybe take a leisurely stroll through the parking lot.

I’m going because we’re out of something.

Feed.

Groceries.

Animal supplies.

Fencing.

Tools.

Something the animals have apparently decided they absolutely cannot live without.
And since we live out in the middle of nowhere, “running to town” can mean spending a good chunk of my day driving.

So when I finally get to town, my thought process is usually:
Get the stuff. Pay for the stuff. Get back home.
Not:
“Who can I inconvenience myself for today?”
Sometimes I do have time to stop and see someone. And when I do, I’m happy to.

But sometimes I don’t.

And apparently this can be very upsetting.
Because nothing says friendship quite like being offended that someone drove an hour into town, spent $300 on animal supplies, and didn’t stop by your house for a visit.

Then there are the trips to pick up a new animal.
Those are even more exciting.
If  I’m driving several hours to pick up an animal, I can assure you I am not planning a social tour of the surrounding communities.

I’m picking up the animal and bringing it home.
That’s the itinerary.
There is no:
“Well, while we’re here, let’s stop for lunch.”
There is no:
“Maybe we’ll swing by and visit six people.”
There is definitely no:
“Let’s see what everyone else is doing before we head home.”

No.

I have a new animal in my vehicle.
My brain has officially entered GET THIS CREATURE HOME MODE.
I’m thinking about the drive, the animal, whether they’re comfortable, whether they need water, whether they’re going to poop, pee, scream, climb over something they shouldn’t, or somehow become one with the upholstery.

And I’m supposed to stop and visit?
Absolutely not. 😂

If you live rurally, you understand.
When you’re responsible for livestock, the homestead doesn’t stop existing just because you decided to go to town.

The chickens still need checked.

The goats still need fed.

The cow doesn’t care that traffic was terrible.
The pigs aren’t going to look at the clock and say, “Oh, she’s running late. We’ll just eat tomorrow.”

Nope.

So if you see me in town and I don’t stop to visit, please don’t assume I’m being rude.
I’m probably on a mission.

And if I’m driving home with a new animal?
Move over.
I’m bringing home livestock and I have places to be.

I promise, if I have the time, I’ll stop and see you.
But sometimes the only social interaction I have time for is waving at you through my windshield while I drive past.

And honestly?
That’s probably the best you’re getting that day.
Because I live rurally.
Town is an errand, not a vacation.
And the homestead is waiting

Thank you for reading,  please share and follow!

#mjbackyardingwithkids #PleaseShare #countryliving #GoatLove #love #chickens

If you’ve been following along for a while, you probably think you have me figured out.
I’m the homesteading lady with too many goats, muddy boots, hay in my hair, and enough animal stories to fill a book.

And you’re not wrong.

But that’s only one side of me.
If you actually know me in real life, you know there’s another side that doesn’t always make it onto the blog.

I have a very dark sense of humor.

The kind where the joke is so unexpected that half the room gasps while the other half laughs so hard they can’t breathe. The kind where my family has learned to simply shake their heads and say, “Yep… that’s Mom.”

Life has a funny way of giving you two choices. You can cry about everything … or you can laugh, even if the joke is a little twisted.

I’ve always chosen laughter.
Not because I don’t care. Not because life has been easy. Sometimes it’s exactly because life hasn’t been easy. Humor has always been one of the ways I’ve survived the hard stuff.

Now, don’t worry—I’m not planning to turn this into a true crime blog with goat updates sprinkled in. The homesteading stories aren’t going anywhere, But every once in a while, my dark humor sneaks into a conversation, and the people who know me best aren’t surprised at all.

They’ve been hearing these jokes for years.
So if one day you read a blog post and think, “Wow… that escalated quickly,” just know you’ve finally met the other half of my personality.

The one who loves baby goats, cries over old animals, talks to chickens…..and can make an inappropriate joke at exactly the wrong moment.

Welcome to the real me.

Thanks for reading, please follow along. 

#mjbackyardingwithkids #PleaseShare #countryliving #GoatLove #rualliving

After months of waiting, wondering, and checking on our cows multiple times a day, it finally happened…

Our very first calf was born here on our homestead!
It’s hard to describe the feeling of seeing something you’ve been looking forward to for so long finally happen. All the anticipation, excitement, and maybe just a little bit of worrying melted away the moment we saw that healthy little calf next to its mama.

This is one of those milestones that makes all the work of homesteading worth it. Early mornings, late-night checks, and patiently waiting – wondering, all led up to this moment.

Watching a mama care for her baby and seeing that little calf find its feet is something I’ll never get tired of.

Of course, after sharing the exciting news, the comments started rolling in.
“That can’t be a newborn!”
“Look how big it is!”
Well… believe it or not, that’s exactly how calves are born!

I know it surprises people who haven’t been around cattle before, but newborn calves are much bigger than baby goats or lambs. They come into the world with long legs, big feet, and they’re usually up trying to walk not long after they’re born.

So yes, our calf really is a newborn. It’s just a healthy baby cow doing what healthy baby cows do.

We’re soaking up every minute of this new chapter and couldn’t be happier to welcome the first calf ever born on our homestead. Here’s to many more healthy mamas, happy calves, and unforgettable moments in the years to come.
And don’t worry… I have a feeling this little one is going to keep us entertained for a long time.

#mjbackyardingwithkids #homesteading #highlandcow #newbaby #babycow #calf

When people think of bucks, they often picture a stinky, pushy, overly aggressive goat that no one really wants to be around.

Then there’s Gabriel.

Gabriel was the next buck we added to our homestead. A friend of mine had Gabriel along with another goat that ended up joining our herd as well. The moment my daughter saw him, she fell completely in love. Of course, as time went on, something funny happened…
He slowly became my goat.😅😅😅

Gabriel has a personality that’s hard not to love. He is incredibly gentle, respectful with the does, and never goes looking for trouble. He’s the kind of buck that happily walks right beside you like an old friend. Put a harness on him, and he acts like he’s been doing it his whole life.

I always joke that one day I’m going to take him to Tractor Supply. We’ll stroll through the aisles together, and I’ll proudly show him exactly where I buy his oats. Knowing Gabriel, he’d probably enjoy every minute of it.

Even routine chores are easy with him. Whether it’s trimming his hooves or standing on the milk stand just for a brushing, he’s patient and cooperative. He reminds me that not every buck fits the stereotypes people love to talk about.

For the longest time, I thought Frank was the king of the herd. But after we added more bucklings to the buck pen, I started paying closer attention to how everyone interacted.

That’s when I realized the real herd king was Gabriel.

He doesn’t rule with force or bullying. He leads quietly. The younger bucklings naturally respect him, and he’s just as gentle with them as he is with the does. Watching him interact with the rest of the herd has been a reminder that true leadership doesn’t always come from being the loudest or the toughest.

Sometimes it comes from being calm, confident, and kind.

Gabriel may not know he’s the king of our herd, but around here, he’s earned that title. He’s proof that a buck can be strong without being aggressive, and that the best leaders often lead by example.

And yes… one of these days, I really might take him to Tractor Supply. I can already picture people stopping to pet him while he calmly walks the aisles like he’s there to inspect the quality of this year’s oat supply. Honestly, he’d probably have better manners than a few shoppers I’ve seen. If he somehow made it to the checkout with a bag of oats in the cart, I don’t think any of us would be surprised.
We’re pretty lucky to have our gentle herd king.

Gabriel and Mj

Thank you for reading,  please share and follow! 

#mjbackyardingwithkids #homesteading #goats #herdking   #BuckLife #thursday