My 22 year old son came breathlessly into the house to tell me, on the last sunny day of the season, that there was a goat in our yard. A goat. Uh-huh. And, um… he…
When I was a little girl I read Heidi, and imagined myself a mountain girl eating cheese with a hunk of good bread and a glass of creamy milk from the goats. Then I grew…
