These are our newest little friends. We recently met them through a passion we share: raw goat milk. We first got hooked on raw milk back when Tony was going to school at B.Y.U. Every week, I would drive with baby Axa out to a farm in Payson to see the gentle jersey cows and pick up a couple of gallons of what could most accurately be described as “liquid flowers.” When we spent a year in Washington State, raw cow milk was unavailable, so we were introduced to the glorious earthy decadence that is raw goat milk. The final piece of the puzzle fell into place when we moved to our little 1-acre “farm” in Fallbrook, and became the delighted owners of two lovely (albeit devious) la mancha goats.
Every time we move somewhere new, one of the first things we look for is whence we can source raw milk. In fact, one of the first times I correctly deciphered a sign in Italy was when I saw the wonderful and almost unbelievable words “latte crudo” over a small shop. It actually was a store selling raw milk, icy cold out of a vending machine, as well as fresh mozzarella, scamorza, and creamy ricotta. Heaven.
Here in Florida, we have been even luckier than usual. Only fifteen minutes away, we can drive to an adorable little farm for our milk.
Westwood Farm specializes in Nigerian Dwarf Goats, which are perfect little miniature dairy-type goats. Fortunately, we have a strict HOA, or after our first visit to the farm, we might have come home with a pet goat.
Aren’t they just too cute for words? This one is only a couple of weeks old, and Axa and I were both utterly smitten.
Goats are naturally friendly and inquisitive, and these have been bottle-raised. So they love people, and think everyone is coming to bring them a snack.
They are agile and love to play. Here at the farm, every goat pen looks like a jungle gym.
Here are the wise old mamma goats, who give us our weekly milk. Can’t you just tell how much personality they have?
Someday we’ll have goats again!