I was having a conversation with somebody the other day about waiting for our cream separator to come in the mail. Goat milk doesn’t separate like cow’s milk, so you need a separator to get cream and make things like butter. The person responded, impressed “Wow, you guys really are the real deal!” I hear that often whenever I talk about what we do. And whenever I hear that I think to myself yeah, right.

We’re not the real deal. There’s a lot of things that we’d be doing differently around here if we were. Take, for example, my penchant for sandals. Most homesteading individuals that we’ve come across seem to have preferences for work boots or other sturdy footwear. While I grudgingly don boots when working in the barn, I often skip the boots and just use flip flops when, say, just running out for the evening milking. Whenever I know I’ll be standing in the clean aisles of the barn and not have to set foot in a pen I go flip flops all the way.

I know, I know… I’m probably far from your ideal picture of what an American farmer looks like, but frankly, I don’t see myself much like the typical American farmer. I see myself more like a modern day David of sorts, tending his father’s sheep (well, goats) in the pasture. Living a shepherd’s life was a pretty rugged thing a few thousand years ago, and David did it without the luxury of Timberlands.

My kids seem to have latched on to this barefoot philosophy I have – everywhere they go, they reach for the flip flops first if they even choose footwear at all. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing; Daniel and I were out planting new apple trees today, sans shoes. I’m sure I look like a moron, and yes, I’m aware of all the ghastly foot injuries that could transpire while shoveling in flip flops. But let’s face it: we’re not the real deal.

Why pretend to be? I’d rather wear flip flops.