You’ve Goat to Love a Good Gate!

My name is Donna Ulisse and this is going to be my new landing spot in the Bluegrass Standard magazine. The folks here know about me through my music and also my Facebook postings called “The Wee Farm Musings” where I regale readers with my life; every mundane, insane and joyful part of living here on our 8 acre place complete with a pole barn and a huge hay field we let our neighbor farmer mow throughout the season. Oh, we harvest things here…we plow through songs like you wouldn’t believe. Music is abundant and thriving in these fields. We teach songwriting here with our partner in song, Jerry Salley in our beloved guest house we dubbed “The Little House”. Writers from all parts of this country come join us for a two day writing event complete with the setting of a bunch of cows (which come with an aromatic ingredient), goats, horses, a herd of cats, a dog, lots of rabbits and squirrels, opossums, raccoons, deer, coyotes, a large collection of birds, all of which my lovely husband, branded Farmer Rick tries to feed on our starving artist budget. I don’t know a thing about dirt or raising animals, gardening or how to live among the plethora of insects that call this place home too but I’ll tell you a little secret…the goats that live in the goat field next door are a large part of our life here and in lots of my musings. 

When we first moved in 9 years ago now, the farmer neighbor next door to us came over and introduced himself that very day. We loved him instantly. He’s a hardworking man with a full time job that takes him away every morning and limited time to do the never ending tasks it takes to raise cows and goats. The neighbor told us to feel free to open the gate and let our kids and grandkids play with the goats anytime we wanted. I had never seen that many goats at one time. There were, like…40 goats of all ages and colors and sizes. A couple of them had a stick taped horizontally to the top of their horns. I remember thinking that was an odd adornment for a goat, silly looking actually. I would find out some months later why they sported a stick taped to their heads. Farmer Rick and his Goat Girl Gone Cat Crazy (that’s me…‘cause I nickname everybody) became so attached to watching the antics of goats from our back patio that we started naming them, feeding them, loving on them and helping our neighbor out when they escaped the fences to come visit in our yard (which is often).

And then, lo and behold, an ah ha moment, the reason for the stick taped to their heads was to keep them from sticking their heads through the fences and getting them caught. The goats without the stick beret would do this awful crying and bawling because they wanted to taste the clean grass on our side of the fence and hung their head up in the wire fencing and my farm darling would have to go and twist their necks to get their head back through the fence. Farmer Rick would look like he was in some kind of goat rodeo, down on his knees wrestling that furry creature until it was safely back on the right side.

I never love my man more than when I’m watching him wrangling a goat. This occurrence happens almost on a daily basis, now part of the charm of Wee Farm living. We kinda started co-raising the goats. Their entertainment value is priceless. Lawdy, when the baby goats start kickin’ around, it’s full on belly laughing for us. I never get tired of it. One time I looked out our kitchen window and I swear, it looked like a sea of goats eating out of all our bird feeders. Well, our next door neighbor goats must have alerted the farm on the other side of them, who had goats too, and told them about the free food at the Wee Farm. The “down the road” goats PLUS the neighbor goats came over for the all you can eat buffet and cleaned us out of birdseed, cat food, rose bushes, our tomato plants and my irises. We couldn’t get mad because they enjoyed the feast so much, wagging their tales and looking at us with those wide set eyes, wondering what they should do or eat next. We had to get on our side by side farm vehicle we lovingly call Reddie and herd them back through their home gates. It took over an hour to get all those critters back in their own fields. Farming hurts, lol.

Songwriting is what keeps my imagination running wild. Between this farm living I’m experiencing today and the fact that for 44 years now I’ve been married to Rick Stanley referred to as Farmer Rick, exposing me to the Clinch Mountain way of life, I have a never ending, always inspired array of song ideas…which leads to songwriting…which gave me a wonderful career in bluegrass music. I’ll just throw in that Rick is a cousin to Carter and Ralph Stanley, the Stanley Brothers. The hillside the Stanley’s came from is filled with a rich heritage and I write about lots of those mountain stories and experiences. My mother had a colorful, big family and my maternal grandparents were such wonderful, gospel grounding ingredients in my upbringing and very present in many of my songs. My dad was Italian and all his family lived within walking distance of each other…so I grew up literally living next door to my Italian grandparents and all my Italian uncles, aunts and cousins, such a gift for this writers soul and palate.

Of course my mountain mother in law and father in law and all their extended family is like having your own arena filled with wild mountain stories. It’s a real boon for a songwriter and a gift I never take for granted. When you want to investigate more of what I’m talking about, I have about 14 projects out with 10 to 12 songs on each, giving you some insight on how I see life…prepare yourself, lol, sometimes it’s an uphill climb. In fact, I have a new song out now about a mountain man who never really lived life the way most folks see a good life being led. He rebelled against lot of things mountain people believe in. I sincerely knew a man like this who lived and died by his own set of rules there on the mountain…so I wrote about him, taking some writers liberties and creating some redemption for this mans life by using a city I dubbed “Gate City”, inspired by a road sign I had been passing on our way to Clintwood, Virginia for 44 years…there’s a real place called Gate City, Virginia. Every time I saw that road sign I would let my mind fly and think about a bustling city bordering Heaven where the pearly gates stand. Well, in my song I put a fence around Gate City and had this man worrying as his life was coming to an end, wondering if he would always be standing on the outside, looking into Gate City. I have a long time co-writer, Marc Rossi that put a snappy melody to my story and the result is a mournful yet thoughtful song about this man easing out of life, trying to make sure he gets it right before he’s all the way gone. 

I’ll say this for the first time in this new platform for my writings here but I promise it won’t be the last time…I. LOVE. SONGWRITING! It’s almost the very breath of me. Sharing what I love and how I gain my ideas for these songs with you is almost the very heartbeat of me…thanks for giving me the read and I’ll look forward to next month…the goats and the gates will be ready!