Decisions are rarely straightforward and rarely have one answer.

What may look like a simple decision often brings many things into play, such as: the animal, the farm, finances, future plans, time, experience, and frequently — my lack of experience.

I’ve spoken of Willow’s kidding elsewhere, but it caused a major shift in how Point 6 Acre thinks about the future in 2026 and 2027.

My concerns with Willow’s health after kidding resulted in conversations with my friend and mentor, and the vet. I decided Willow goes into retirement once I stop milking her. We’re now in a position of having less milk for home use and soap-making for part of the year. We assumed we’d be able to alternate breeding the goats thereby having a goat in milk year-round.

Enter the unknowns: 

Do I need to replace Willow with another doe? 
One already in milk? 
Will Elora, who is slightly overweight, breed in the fall? It will be her first-freshening (first kidding). 
Will there be enough milk from Willow to freeze for soap production? 
Will Elora kid easily? That’s a complete unknown.

These were several questions (amongst many) I asked. I also asked about milk production, and a potential breeding buck.

I was given two different perspectives from people whose views matter to me. Each shared their experiences and knowledge with me.

As always, I was left with some decisions to make.

I believe it makes sense to try to breed Elora in the fall and even though Willow’s next kidding might be uneventful, I’ve decided to retire Willow from breeding. Regarding the purchase of another doe, that isn’t financially feasible. 

Once the Boys, Willow’s current twin kids, are weaned, there will be milk for home use and soap production. 

Things rarely fit neatly into a spreadsheet. Even a small farm is constantly juggling and balancing things, and sometimes decisions like alternating milking two does so there’s milk throughout the year, just have to wait.

A visitor here sees:

Goats, and maybe goat kids

Soap

A small farm

What they don’t see are the observations, conversations, and second-guessing that happens on a continuous basis.

Often the decisions made aren’t the ones made with the quickest answer. They’re the ones made with enough information, reflection, and willingness to change course when something new is learned. And even then, the outcome might be unexpected.

The farm keeps changing. So do the decisions that keep it working.

Warmly,

Brin

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Brin writes about the quieter lessons of small farm life – ducks in the morning, goats in the barn, and the slow work of tending a small piece of land. Between animal chores, soap making, and reflexology work, she reflects on what it means to live well, live simply, and discover what “enough” really looks like.