Escapism

Last year, the Times wedding announcements featured two suspiciously similar entries, in that both couples were... goat farmers. Gawker directed me to the Tumblr blog of one of these farmers, and I've since checked in with it any time big-city life is driving me up the wall (in other words, often).

Louisa and Lucas are two good-looking Middlebury grads. He's a poet. She's an artist. In addition to drawings and free verse, they make cheese and artisan goat-milk caramels. They took up goat farming because "it just seemed like a more fruitful collaboration between art and land." I'm not even being snarky here when I say that they are BEYOND COOL. This is how I dreamed my life would turn out when I was 16 and really into Emerson, and that is in no way a ding. God, sometimes I still want to pack it in and and move to the remote woods with my significant other, where we can hang out with the animals and wear plaid. Then I remember that the remote woods are cold; the restaurant options, lacking. But until I can support Louisa and Lucas by purchasing their inevitable goat-themed visual poetry series, I'll comfort myself with posts like these:

meet CY TWOMBLY! The very first doeling born on Peaked Mountain. And the very first goat born into Big Picture Farm. Not yet 48 hours old, this is her first glimpse of her own shadow.

SEE WHAT I MEAN?? Please, check out the full blog here (UPDATE: I just learned that the husband has one too). If you don't like it... you might not have a soul.