Well, dear reader, as much as we dislike change, it is inevitable. My bib overall-wearing buddy is particularly adverse to change. As much as I tease my husband for his set-in-his-ways attitude, nervous ticks when dealing with change, and frustratingly irksome attitudes about said change, I, too, am a creature of habit. I feel I roll with change better than The Bibbed Wonder, but I take comfort in familiarity. When I find something I like, I stick with it and utilize it until it does not have an ounce of life remaining. I don't need the latest bells and whistles to make me feel trendy or cutting edge. I generally go for classic, timeless, effortless, and well-made.
For example, I have jeans that are older than my marriage. As for shoes, if I find a pair I love, I will buy a pair in every color available and wear them until they fall apart or smell too bad to wear without embarrassment. For purses, I go for classic, well-made brands that never go out of style. I have the same attitude about electronics. You will not find me with the latest Apple product. I like my bomb-proof, military-grade phone that can accommodate my careless treatment. Although I love my new, red laptop, I continue to lament a year later how I miss my poor old Dell that was also military-grade and bomb-proof. With automobiles, I have the same behaviors. When we get a vehicle, I drive it until the wheels fall off, or more accurately, the steering goes. As for my farm family, I believe everyone born here should remain here until they pass away from old age. Regarding my husband, lucky or unlucky for him, I am in it for the long haul. However, it does not stop me from reminding him he can be replaced or is considered non-essential when he gets too saucy or impertinent.
The last two weeks have been filled with change, and I have found my anxiety at uncomfortable levels with said changes. Last Wednesday, The Bibbed Wonder made the tough decision to lower our herd numbers and remove everyone not producing milk. This meant our Boer goats and little boys had to go. The gentleman who typically purchases our little boys was out of town and explained he had reached his maximum capacity for his goat herd. This left us with little to no options. Eric reluctantly and regretfully made the choice to take them to the auction. You all know how I feel about auctions. After two weeks of tearful discussions, negotiations, and pleading, we agreed to keep a "bachelor herd" to keep our buck company. All that remains of our little boys are Fergus, my bottle baby; Lester, my bottle baby from last year; and Starboy, who is abnormally friendly. We have gone from fifty-five goats to approximately twenty. I will say that the herd appears more relaxed, their interactions are friendlier, and even Horns has settled down and stopped threatening everyone. It thought the herd would miss the Boer goats, but they appear to have adapted quite well. The barn is tranquil, and it feels empty, but everyone seems happier.
We also realized that it was time for a new car. I have driven a Buick Enclave for the past eight years. The miles were creeping up, and it began experiencing minor, annoying issues until it developed a major, dangerous problem. We have had steering issues in the past. Last week, I experienced our third incident with steering issues in two years. It was time to admit that we needed a new vehicle. On Monday, we made an impromptu visit to the local Subaru dealer, returned home, and then went back to the Subaru dealer to make a purchase. Let me tell you, dear reader, I detest the whole car purchasing process. I do not find it fun or exciting. Instead, I find it overwhelming, ridiculously long, and stressful. At one point, I looked at my husband and said, "I am done. This is ridiculous. Why can't they sell me the car I want, give me their lowest number for the new car, the highest number for the old car, and get us the hell out of here?" Six hours, dear reader, is how long it took us to purchase a new car. I was exhausted, annoyed, and experienced sensory overload. I hope we don't have to do that again for another decade. On a positive, I love my new car.
With all the new changes going on around here, I have added to the fray and begun a minor remodel of our downstairs. Nobody can find the silverware or the dishes or sit at the dining room table, but it is all coming together slowly but surely. One bib overall wearing grumpy pants had a bit of a meltdown over the changes, but once he voiced his frustrations, he seemed to have reached a level of acceptance. All rooms are changing from boring cream to a gentle, comforting medium sage green. The piano room is complete. I am working on the dining room and hope to have the kitchen done before November. It takes me longer to paint than it used to, and it's not quite as therapeutic as I once found it. However, it feels more like me and home.
Changes for better or worse are inevitable. It is best to accept the changes, keep some Xanex on hand for when you feel overwhelmed or need to slip a few into your spouse's coffee, look at the positives change brings about, and smile through the process. On this lovely fall day, stay safe, be smart, embrace the change, and keep washing your hands.
