Have you ever found yourself becoming someone different than you ever thought you would be because of your interest in a new hobby?

Maybe you always thought you hated cooking – until that first time you put together a delicious meal.

Maybe you never enjoyed reading until you finally hit on that genre that inspired a new passion.

Maybe you never cared about hiking until you finished your first trek to a waterfall, or maybe you were sure you didn’t have a green thumb until the first time something you planted pushed its way out of the ground.

For me – it’s goats.

I did not grow up on a farm. We didn’t keep chickens, we didn’t grow vegetables, we didn’t cut hay. It just wasn’t my family’s “thing.” Despite my father’s agricultural heritage – his father operated a large dairy farm for years – it wasn’t something that continued with the next generation.

Of course, growing up in Tennessee, there was a strong farming culture. We went to the county fair every year, and we were sometimes gifted fresh-picked tomatoes or cucumbers from friends or neighbors. My brother and I both participated in the 4-H Club, and we learned all about Tennessee ag topics by participating in the annual “Clover Bowl.”

But that was as far as it went, and I’ve always been fine with that – until putting together the features for this issue of Franklin Living.

Now I want goats. Between the top-notch photos of the Stockton goats, taken by Montana Hester of Hester Photography, and then personally meeting the goats at Rusty Armadillo Farm, I have fallen in love – or at least in deep fascination.

I’ve never been a farm girl, but maybe I’m about to be. I have some research to do, but I’m seeing the possibility like never before.

Just wait until you see our May/June issue coming out in a week or two. You might find you want goats too.