One quickly discovers that having a goat (or cow) in milk determines the rhythm of the day on the homestead. She becomes the hub of chore life and everything centers on her needs and pace. The day begins and ends with her. Rosie ties me to WeeHavyn and twice a day I have an audience with the Queen, to bring her a feast of fat things and receive her blessing.
Milking is definitely not for everyone. Many would consider Rosie an intolerable burden, but I think she is a delightful one. I cannot pretend there are never any frustrations, that I don’t ever wish I could just take off and go somewhere without watching the time, but I also find the grounding influence of being bound to my home a blessing in many ways. Yes, I am tied down, but is that such a terrible thing?
As I sit next to Rosie’s warm body during morning milking, listening to the joyful trill of birds and watching the amusing antics of silly hens trying to pretend dignity, I wonder when being bound to anything came to be considered, if not a terrible fate, at the very least a roadblock to one’s happiness. We take such pride in being “free” to do whatever we wish. Yet what is the price of this pride?
Refusing to be bound to anything results in lack of commitment. We don’t commit to our partners – the divorce rate testifies to that. We don’t commit to our community – why build relationships when we don’t know if we’re going to stay? We don’t commit to our homes – again, why put a lot of effort into anything we aren’t going to keep? Everything centers on us, what WE want, where WE want to be, OUR fun, OUR bliss. Things and people become temporary means to our happiness, not appreciated, but expected and easily discarded when we are no longer entertained. The same is true for others. How brave is one who dares to devote themselves wholly to anything!
I wonder if I have that courage….