Imagine growing up on a goat farm. It probably wasn’t as dreamy as you might think. Our daughter, Willow, typed-up a few of her memories for this post. If you want to read more stories of Willow’s growing up on the farm add your words of encouragement in the comments.
Growing up on Quillisascut Farm has definitely shaped the person I am today. At a young age I learned the cycle of life and death by observing and helping Rick and Lora Lea with raising the animals, planting and harvesting the garden, and butchering the meat that we ate. Initially, my parents were apprehensive about their young daughter watching a goat be alive one moment and then killed and butchered the next. Yet, when they saw the sudden curiosity in my eyes as I picked up a goat head, they knew from then on they had nothing to worry about. Not only was I not scared or disgusted to watch an animal butchered but I was also learning a valuable lesson on anatomy at a young age.
When my parents butchered chickens they would show me what the heart, gizzard, lungs, or liver looked like and where they were located inside the chicken.When Lora Lea cooked liver and onions for dinner, my friends and I would get really excited, which surprised my parents since most children plug their noses to the sheer idea of eating liver and onions.
Besides understanding life and death on the farm, I also have a sense of what tastes good on the palette. I remember warm summer nights we would eat fresh corn and tomatoes picked right from the vine for dinner. For dessert Grandma Daisy would make peach pie made from the peach trees in our garden. No produce from the grocery store can even compare to the freshness of these dinners. It’s like eating a piece of sunshine with droplets of the morning’s dew melting in your mouth.