The highs and lows of farm life

I wanted to learn about everything. The fun fluffy stuff, the smelly poopy stuff even the trials you face when your lively hood depends on the mood of a particular season. I wanted to know it all because I feel like it would be easy to get caught up in the fun fluffy stuff when entering the alpaca farming community for the first time.

This last month has been a fun, fluffy, smelly, poopy learning experience and I loved every second. But I didn't expect to be loosing somebody so soon after falling in love with them.  Toumai is starting to fade away, taking a huge piece of Donna's heart with her. She is unlikely to still be with us by the end of the week. Toumai was the first alpaca that Donna bought and is so precious to her. She's a well respected herd member. A grandmother. The protector of the group. Everything will change when she's gone.

There is not nearly enough talent in my writing nor understanding of how Donna must feel about the alpaca she's loved and relied on the longest to give any kind of description. But the moment it hit me is still fresh. Seeing Donna's eyes glassy and red from hours of crying. The mentor who has become a dear friend to me made the first bullet wound in my chest. Next; Toumai. The once strong and dependable was now weak and struggling. We all have such faith in this creature that we feel her weakness burn through our spirit. What will life be like after Toumai?

The third bullet came from the herd. In fact, it felt more like a cannon ball hitting swift and hard in my chest, lifting my feet from the ground and sending me sliding down the barn wall. With Donna at my side we looked out over the pasture, as we do most mornings. Familiar warbles from chickens hung soft in the air. The hay at our feet the colour of the warm morning sun. The grass in the pasture whipped into waves by the breeze. To our surprise Toumai had joined the group to graze. She didn't have the energy to stand or eat. She just wasn't ready to give up her title; Grandmother, Protector. We had hoped this was the time. To see her go under the sun, with the girls she loved fiercely would give some comfort. She looked so small and still. One by one the girls walked up to her and bent down to brush their cheek against hers and sniff at her forehead; just like they did to me on my first day at the farm. Did they know? Were they saying goodbye? I had thought the sadness and hurt of it all would be too much for me until I was reminded of the kind, gentle nature of these creatures that made me fall in love with them in the first place.

It will be tough when the time comes but it will be interesting to see who fills her role. Though they are some big hooves to fill.

I really have seen the highs and lows of farm life all in the past few weeks. I earned my first rip in my jeans on shearing day. I've seen the after effects of winter in the worry on Donna's face. I met other farmers and friends of Donna's at a local alpaca show; all of whom I loved upon sight. I've seen the hurt from being close to loosing a member of the herd. I halter trained the babies and laughed at the awkward first inquisitive steps outside of the pasture. I'm the proud wearer of a farmer's tan. I've been disappointed on ultrasound day to find only two of the girls pregnant. I've felt appreciated when asked my opinion on who should be breed next. I've helped to vaccinate the herd. I winced at the vet putting her hand up an alpaca's butt- gloveless! I felt like a monster separating the babies from their mothers to wean them. I felt proud of them when they stopped crying after a day and now have their own herd dynamics going on. I jumped for joy when the girls gained weight after a particularly tough winter.

I still have to much to learn but I feel like this past month has made me an alpaca farmer. I know there are tough days ahead so I've armed myself with a video I made at the farm this week to cheer me up and remind me of all I love about alpacas. I hope it does the same for you. Here it is:  https://vimeo.com/95875257 

****edited to add, may 29th 17.24

Sadly Toumai passed away this afternoon. She hung on for longer than we expected, I did not expect to see her when I walked in the barn this morning. I looked out into the pasture and saw Donna with Toumai's head in her lap. She stayed there in the rain for hours until her first girl took her last breath. Her love for her herd in abundant. Toumai's unique qualities and emotional intelligence are unlikely to be seen again in another creature and she will be missed everyday by Donna and her family, the herd and me. 

Toumai...

A truly new season

Today is Easter Sunday. Some celebrate Jesus. Some fertility and new life. Most; chocolate! I've been celebrating the sun's gift of nimble fingers at work in the alpaca pasture. The iron grip of the ice leaving the soil, feeling the freedom in the waking warm earth at my feet. 

I haven't been too busy to write. I've been busy experiencing a season changing in another country for the first time. Until now I've never been away from Wales for more than a few weeks. For most of us, travel is a break in time. Our perception of time being working hours and weekends. We don't just leave the country, we leave dust to fall onto blank pages in diaries. In theory we needn't leave at all. We experience new places as if living in a painting. Not staying long enough to see it move and change. I thought that the novelty of new experiences would be short lived since I moved here for good. But each day has brought a new surprise. None more pleasing to the senses than the arrival of spring. 

The Lancaster countryside is rejoicing in the delayed departure of winter. The morning sun kisses the land awake, leaving lipstick stains in greens, yellows, pinks. Mostly green. Farmer's fields that surround our house turned to emerald over night. The wooden deck in our garden warms in the morning. Our cats stretch out on it and writhe in pleasure under the new playful sun. I see a new palette of colour, not only in flowers but feathers too. Birds hop through our garden and feast on the worms that ventured on our driveway after a nourishing rain shower. 

There's one thing I miss about Wales at this time of year; lambs. Fortunately I have 24 alpaca friends to compensate. The winter has been tough on them. Even with such dense fleece their bodies use much more energy to keep warm in cold temperatures. Especially with a nursing cria (baby alpaca). The fresh grass carpeting the alpaca pasture is a welcome sight and the alpaca's moods match the festival of spring colours.  The older boys, like our cats, are writhing on the warm earth and basking in the goldilocks perfection of sunlight. The girls and their crias are doing what alpacas do best-grazing. Most of the alpaca females are pregnant and nursing crias that are almost weaned. Eating for three is a full time job! Poop scooping has become an enjoyable chore now that I can feel the sun on my back and warmth in my fingers. I can clean up in the pasture now, it's when I've observed most of the changes in my surroundings. It's my most peaceful time of day, the only distraction is Dante's inquisitive face poking into my bucket or around my shoulders. I wouldn't be without him though, his large inky black eyes warm my heart in the coolest of breezes. 

After training the boys this morning I sat in the girl's pasture and just watched. In South America they call alpacas 'silent brothers'. I find peace in their quiet nature. The group dynamics are fascinating to me. Cattarah is the only female who hasn't been bred and acts like a nanny to the four crias. This morning as the mothers chewed hay in the shade I watched her take Delilah and Marco for a stroll in the pasture. They played! It was the sweetest thing I've witnessed in my time at the Alpaca farm. Cattarah led the crias to a dried up dusty puddle. Delilah and Marco observed as she eased her large sturdy body to the ground and rolled on her back, sending a plume of powdery earth into the air. She rose and turned to watch the crias follow her lead. Lucy and Dominic, intrigued by the clouds of dust that glowed around their pals where quick to join in the fun. My love for these majestic creatures grew tenfold. 

When I return home to work with their incredible fibre I'm still inspired by the herd. I use no machinery in the process of making. From skirting raw wool right through to the finished product, I carry the peace of the farm with me. I've designed fabrics inspired by the alpacas I'm lucky enough to spend time with every other day. The way their fleece forms a wavy texture around the bottom of their long smooth necks. Heads rising from the feed box, peppered with long strands of hay. The strong bonds of companionship between herd members. Before volunteering at the farm I had no clue what I wanted to make. Or why. These quiet mornings have made me want to honour their nature and spread the love I have for alpacas.  

I promise to share my creations soon, this is something I really want to get right. 

Harrisburg Alpaca Show

I've never been fond of competitions, particularly in a professional context. I was 16 the last time I went to one. Couldn't tell you what networking meant. But I quickly learnt what schmoozing meant. There was as much friction in the clenched butt cheeks as there was in the pleasantness between direct competitors. It didn't feel much like a community. I wanted out.

This is the first time I've returned to any kind of contest, even as a spectator. Hundreds of alpacas under one roof was more than an incentive for me. In support of my dream my husband, mother-in-law and sister-in-law joined me. I feel like the alpacas and promise of an obstacle course helped.

Within minutes of arriving at the show we started talking with a breeder. No butt cheek friction. No holding back. Just enjoyment of each other's  abundant passion for these creatures. Like Donna, he answered my questions honestly and made me all the more excited to have my own farm. I felt like part of a community. We all enjoy this lifestyle and only wish more people knew how satisfying it can be. After talking with other breeders I realized how much Donna has taught me. How this has become a life choice.

My husband fell in love with a silver grey rose. My mother-in-law and sister-in-law got friendly with a few. I was captivated by every alpaca I saw. Shapes, colors, personalities, size, wrinkles, curiosity, the puffiness of their wool. I watched them stand in front of their fans, their ears angles back in the breeze, stray fibers dancing.  I observed their group dynamics. I watched how they interacted with humans. I laughed at them contorting their bodies to scratch an itch. I loved them all.

I was conscious that I'd been making doe eyes at alpacas for some time. I felt like no one in the room could be enjoying themselves nearly as much as me. I ushered my family to the alpaca obstacle competition, this was definitely going to be fun for everyone. Especially since I'd been trying to convince my sister-in-law that they would be jumping through rings of fire! I was surprised at what I did see in the arena. Children. Each of them had a visible bond with their animal and handled them expertly. When the opportunity to be part of the obstacle course arose my hand jolted up like it was attached to a pulley system and the sandbag was dropped. I was one of two petters. We had to pet each alpaca in the same way so the judges could see how they responded to human contact. I was so impressed by how each child knew their animal intimately and offered comfort when they became nervous. I think there's no better way to teach a young person mutual respect.

It was time to check out the fiber arts competition to see where I stand and how to improve. I wrote previously about a Jackson pollock themed alpaca for competition. Let's just say it would not be at home amongst the soft natural pieces I saw. So I'm working on an even crazier piece for the next competition!

Herd Life

The snow has gone, the alpacas are finally grazing in the pasture and I'm at the farm every other day. My frequent visits have strengthened our bond and established my place in the herd. I've trained some of the more nervous characters and gained their trust. We've progressed from standing 2 feet apart to kisses on the the second date! This has been more rewarding than any monthly bonus I worked for previously. No matter how big. I'll tell you why.

My job always seemed so pointless in the past. 9-5 just makes no sense to me. You go to work to pay for a house. After work you come back to your house, eat, watch t.v, go to sleep. Do it all again the next day. You work a bit harder so you can go on holiday every year. FOR 40 YEARS. If you work hard enough you'll have a nicer house and more extravagant holidays (your boss will always have bigger and better). But you still follow the same cycle. For what? Retirement? I refuse to wait until I'm 65 to start having fun. I'm 27 and my knees hurt, I can't imagine what great adventure can wait until they get worse. I think it's important to see the world from standing eye level not scooter level from designated concrete paths. The defining moment in humanity was when we stood upright and stopped looking at the ground. Imagine how different the world will be in 40 years. How some of the things you took for granted earlier in life are gone for ever. They're all there right now. A meaningful, independent way of living is available to everyone. Everyday becomes a holiday. Work isn't work. Home isn't a pit stop before the next working day.

I'm making it sound easy. I know it's not. Especially for long term employees with financial responsibilities. I appreciate that I'm in a fortunate position right now. However, I made the extra effort to break the cycle. I've dreamed of doing it for a long time. Now that those thoughts are being put into action I wonder how I stayed in the cycle as long as I did. paidtoexist.com gave me a nudge in the right direction and I still follow the emails religiously.

Seeing the alpacas progress in their training is spiritually rewarding. The life lessons they're teaching me are invaluable; patience, alertness, compassion, appreciation, confidence, maternal instinct. After weeks of leaving the house with no make up, coming home with hay in my hair and smelling of poo I've come to the realization that I never want to step foot in an office again. This is the life for me!

As much as I'm living in a dream world, I still exist in the grizzly real one. It's a long way down the road until I can afford my own alpacas. In the mean time I'm brushing up on my felting skills to earn a living. I wrote previously about my experimenting in this field. Some of my creations included a whale/iceberg mobile, pug angel,  tentacle beret and finger puppets.

I loved experimenting with wool but I didn't have a focus. My rough and ready technique meant that one project could take more than a week to complete. It never occurred to me that a little patience, appreciation and confidence could be the start of an artistic career. I have the alpacas to thank. I'm sure their ears are burning by now. I've been patient in learning new felting techniques. I'm more confident in my ability and my appreciation for the alpacas is resonating in my work; I'm using their amazing fiber and making pieces inspired by their different personalities.

I'm in the process of making and love watching raw wool transform into works of art through my hands. But I'll tell you more about that next time.

Training Day

We're back in lancaster as husband and wife. We went to New York and came back married. No frills, no stress, NO bridezilla. It was perfect and we laughed the whole time, which I see as an advantage over the traditional wedding. 

There is no silence in New York, no patience or courtesy. Each person's prime concern is the line between two pins on a map. Anything else is just in their way. And their way is more important than every other person's. Only passing plagues of strangers. Seeing thousands of different faces a day and meeting none of them. It's unfamiliar to me; coming from a small valley town in Wales where you speak to every person you pass in the street whether you know them or not. About the weather, the guy down the road who got a husky crossed with a timber wolf. I'm definitely not made for the city. We had lots of fun and saw more of the 'real' New York but I revered the silence of Lancaster when we  stepped off the train that rocked us gently home. 

We took a few days to ourselves to recover and get accustomed to calling each other husband and wife. A lot. 'Could you pass the biscuits please, Husband?' 'No problem, Wife.' And it's not old yet. I also like to give my Husband a little refresher on our vows when he's eating something I want a bite of. 'What's yours is mine remember? We signed a legal contract. Now gimme!'.

Now we're back to our new norm, feeling content with the snow shrinking away from us it was time to see my favourite non-humans. It's finally training day! 

There's always a warm welcome at the farm. With the exception of one. Frederick. Donna's guard chicken. Frederick is her baby and feels the need to remind me by kamikaze bombing my feet. He's done it to me and only me since my first day at the farm. Maybe he heard how great my omelettes are. 

My first lesson in training was with the four babies. The first thing to teach an alpaca is to keep still. Donna said the first thing you need to let them know is that you're not going to kill them. Not something I've had to convince someone of before! So we catch them, hold them and once they're still we reward them by leaving them alone. And that's it. Over and over until they know that keeping still will get them what they want. It sounds monotonous but I don't think I'll ever tire of effectively cuddling baby alpacas. And anyone who would deserves a severe pecking from Frederick. In the eyeballs. 

Next I finally started training Nikolai. I've been looking forward to this for weeks while I was trapped in my snow cell. Nikolai has such a sweet nature. Donna got in with him first to show me the ropes and he'd look to me for approval with warm child like eyes. He learns so quickly and with pride. Training moves in baby steps, starting at their back eventually we want to be able to touch their feet without them moving. I got as far as the back of his knee today. I enjoy measuring success in body parts rather than numbers. 

Now I know the drill on the farm and spring is on the way I'll be training the alpacas regularly. Donna has taught me so much in such a short period. Now it's time to take lessons from the alpacas themselves and learn to be one of the herd. 

A break in the ice

While I wished for the snow to melt, it froze into a thick ice shelf rooted deep in the soil. Depending on the weather has never been a part of my life like this. Like the land I feel gripped by the ice, right down to the bones. I retreated into hibernation and took a holiday inside my books. I read about long warm summer nights. 

A break in the ice came when Donna asked me to help clean up the farm today. We're expecting another blizzard and a foot of snow tonight so we tried to get lots done before we we're frozen solid again. 

Seeing the alpacas thawed my frosty bones. They greet me in the same order they usually do. Dante is always first, led by his curiosity then Nikolai steps meekly from his shadow. Willow is the meerkat amongst the ladies; her head is always the first to pop up amongst the tightly packed grazing bodies. 

Of the four babies there is one who is being bottle fed after her mother didn't produce milk for her. She's bottle fed twice a day and she has started to graze on the hay. She's doing well but is a little smaller than the others, which makes her the most popular with visitors. Today I bottle fed her and we got very messy! Bottle feeding an alpaca is much different from bottle feeding human babies. Lucy will suck the bottle for a few seconds (and you really need to hold on to the bottle) then she quickly moves her head to the side for a breath and turns the suction pump back to maximum strength. So that none of the milk is wasted I needed to try and tip the bottle upright quickly when she moved her head away. It's safe to say that I don't have the quickest reaction times yet and by the time she finnished her breakfast she looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. It was great fun, she really does have the sweetest nature. 

As well as catching up with my furry friends it was nice to see my human friend too! Donna answers all my questions, even the stupid ones. I enjoy our conversations between the fences of the enclosures amongst the chorus of chicken warbles and alpaca gobbling. 

We spoke about the international alpaca show that's coming to Harrisburg next month. I'm going along to learn more about the industry but also to see the fibre art competition and how a colorful Jackson pollock style alpaca study would fit in. 

Story about a thing

What makes an inanimate object special? It's just a thing. Just molecules arranged together in a particular way. Yet we all have treasured possessions. That thing we could live without but choose not to. It has no other function than to tell a story; and it's the story that gives the thing importance. Life, even.

I've had mine since I was 5. I had others. Lots of them. But this one I venerated for over 20 years. The others, to me, were just things. Disposable. Replaceable. And so was this thing in theory. But not to me.

It came from Scotland. My Grandfather was on a trip with his friends; Wales were playing Scotland in the Rugby League so they went on tour. It's the longest I remember him being away. And the longest I had to wait for a gift on his return. I knew there would be something. He'd regularly drive down to Cornwall during the week to work and bring home Cornish Pasties. He'd work in Kendall and return with every variety of Kendall Mint Cake. Always something. I never became ungrateful but this time I was expecting something special, because he'd never been so far from me.

He came home with tales of proud Welsh victory, drunken nights and how he got the thing. Now most presents are just given. But this time I was made to sit and listen to where the thing came from. He described the street where he found the shop, under an ancient iron bridge that crossed a wide river. Told me about the lady that made the thing, how she made it, that there were lots of others but none exactly like this. I listened to how he had a thing like this when he was little and so did his Grandad. How they're made by a person and not a machine; like all the other things I broke and threw away.

I felt like this had been made for me. It was mine and no one Else's. It by no means looked completely unique on the surface but it definitely felt it. It became more valuable and precious than anything I had laid hands on and still is to this day.

And it was this that made me want to make for others. To give someone a thing. A thing that can be treasured, talked about, shown off, handed down, appreciated. Making something by hand does that. When you see something emerge before you it makes you want to tell others about it's story. To give it life. To make it so much more than just a thing.

Every thing is just a thing. Our only necessity is food, water and air. Everything else is just stuff. It's just the stories that make them dear.

It's the learning of the stories that make us live more conscientiously. To appreciate the things we chose to surround ourselves with. To love them and never take them for granted. It sounds like a better way to me.

This is Mac, the bear that came from scotland:

10 Beautiful Alpaca Photos

Before I can go back to the Alpaca farm I have to wait for the snow to melt as training can be futile in this weather. This is the first time in my life that I've been annoyed with snow cancelling my work plans. And I guess that's a good sign. It's been driving me crazy none the less. Every morning I open the curtains hoping to see the green light of the grass.

I'd like to say I've been really productive while I'm cooped up inside. If you call looking at alpaca photos productive; you'd be right! Here's 10 of my favorites:

1. I'm a sucker for contrast in black and white photographs. Throw an alpaca into the mix and I'm smitten.

 

 

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/wadegriffith/2918853650/

2.  Wild Alpacas. A sight I'd really love to see with my own eyes one day.

http://apusperublog.wordpress.com/page/8/

 

 

3. If you're not already obsessed with alpaca haircuts, you should be.

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/266345765436676268/

4.  Pretty autumn leaves. Gorgeous light. AND a fluffy alpaca!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/alpacas/

5. Ok not alpaca. But technically it's alpaca wool and it's cute.

http://violentlydomestic.com/2013/09/30/neer-do-well-knits-preorder-details/

6. I love this intimate portrait of an alpaca. The light and expression in this picture is beautiful.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/65835088/limited-edition-print-alpaca

7. This looks like a great little alpaca family. I love how curious they are.

uncredited

8. Add your own caption here.

http://www.picmonkey.com/p/V035BgbfEp4

9. More alpacas in the wild. These guys could almost blend into their surroundings.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielvirella/5331315127/

 

 

10. Not an alpaca. It's a lama. But a great photo none the less. Almost like a dysfunctional family portrait.

http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/c1/7c/27/c17c2748ba6d7b29fa74a6c1d7c976b8.jpg

 

So now that's out of my system I'm going to finish designing a product range. Updates on Nikolai's training when the sun shines brighter.

New Furry Friends

Working hard at not working never really worked out for me until now. Physical work always appealed to me but my school grades and good sales record at a previous job typecast me to prospective employers. And it drove me nuts. I was never given a chance to prove that I could be good at something new.

Moving to the US helped me. On the presumption that I'd just be shovelling poop at the Alpaca Farm I felt liberated of my resume and school grades. I've been given a chance to prove myself. To myself.

An ember from the fire of the Do Lectures had rolled onto me and smoldered for years. Meeting the owner of the Alpaca Farm added tinder. Meeting the alpacas for the first time covered me in gasoline and set me ablaze. 

She called the girls from the pasture into the barn where we stood with chickens flowing around our feet. The herd moved towards us as if it were one animal. These creatures are connected but all so different. Each one has a defining hairstyle. Some of their fleeces graduate from a heather grey to white crystal tips. Others have a single identifying dot. Each face is warm with curious eyes that look straight into yours. Being with alpacas for the first time felt surprisingly intimate and serene. 

Instead of being asked what I'm good at I was asked what I wanted to do there while I was volunteering. Moving here already felt like winning the lottery. My bank balance had doubled in front of my eyes, I got a new shoe size and I lost two dress sizes without lifting a finger. Being a novice I didn't know what needed to be done other than the obvious poop scooping. I offered my help with any time consuming tasks and she asked me to help training the alpacas. I had no idea what this meant but it sounded great! 

Training the alpacas helps get them comfortable with human contact. It makes trimming their nails and trips to the vet less stressful. I felt like a part of me should feel nervous about this, but the privilege of petting alpacas for hours at a time quashed any nerves that began to stir. 

The next day I was shown around the farm and learnt the basics of keeping all the animals safe and happy. For the first time I remembered everything I was told. The time came to get in with the alpacas. I wasn't sure how long it would take for them to get accustomed to me. I was expecting weeks rather than minutes. One of the girls, Willow, instigated the mass sniffing of my face that followed. I felt like part of the herd.

When I went on a poop hunt in the boy's pasture I was followed around by a sweet brown alpaca with goofy teeth. He stayed close to me the whole time even though he's one of the more nervous characters. He will be my first training buddy, Nikolai. We start training together when the snow melts.

The Start of a Great Adventure

I never wanted a job. Growing up in Wales, it seemed mandatory to hate your work. A means to an end  for most, a vicious cycle for me. The only advice I ever took seriously was this; 'If you do something you love, you'll never work a day in your life'. Ever since I've worked hard at not working for someone else. Just to be and enjoy. So I can exist in a world built on my own ideals. Complete Independence and self sufficiency is my ultimate goal. 

12 days ago I moved to the US to live with my fiance. We spent over 2 years living between two countries. Always in Limbo. Now I'm finally here for good I feel like I can do anything I want. Maybe it's the leap across the ocean or leaving the warm hug of the mountains. The landscape opening up has resulted in more doing and less dreaming. This comes as a relief because in 2009 I volunteered at The Do Lectures in West Wales. I washed dishes in exchange for soul nourishing talks from people who are encouraging positive world change. It was the best thing to happen to me until nothing happened. For five years. I had jigsaw pieces of a life I'd like to live but nothing fit together into a solid achievable plan. I was waiting for the eureka moment to come. I had so many more baths than usual!

The eureka moment never came. Instead, it revealed itself slowly. It was born, with peaks and troughs like contractions. In the defining moment I felt a new kind of smile grow across my face. A knowing smile. One I couldn't shake off. I'm doing it right now. 

If you don't believe in fate or the power of the universe it happened completely by chance. 

The first sign came a year before The Do Lectures. I was a freelance photographer and enjoying the freedom of working on my own schedule. I spent a few days sofa surfing in Camarthen where my friend was studying textiles at University. The next day she had to prepare for end of year show and asked me for some help using photoshop. We spent an hour on the computer in her class before I was distracted by the half finished projects all around me and took an interest in how they were made. So I just hung around and learnt a little about felting and using knitting machines.

This experience stayed dormant in my brain until Christmas 2012. My fiance and I had been together a while and we were about to spend our first Christmas together. I wanted to make him something special. That something special turned out to be a needle felted kiwi bird which I cut in half and added a kiwi fruit detail. This was the catalyst for other far out creations I made over the course of a year. I was free styling to say the least but learnt techniques through creative play.

My First Needle Craft Project: A kiwi bird/fruit

Then we decided to get married, I think the kiwi bird swung it. And now I'm here. We're getting married in a few weeks and I have to fill in more laborious forms until I can officially work. Considering this post started with the words 'I never wanted a job' you'd think I'd be happy with this. Well I never wanted to be idle either. I wanted to keep myself occupied with work but wanted to love it. Especially since I'd be doing it for free. I've never had the opportunity to take money out of the equation an do something just for the love of it. More than anything I wanted to be paid in knowledge.

A few weeks before I arrived here my mother-in-law to be told me about an Alpaca farm down the road. It'd been there a long time but she only just took the initiative to visit when she saw an ad in the local paper. The farm has a store with handmade Alpaca crafts. She thought it would be a great place to visit. I thought it would be a great place to work and learn. I contacted the owner and she said yes. And this is where the adventure begins.