Since I was a little girl, I have always dreamed of living on a farm with all sorts of animals. A common dream among some children, and some of those dreams come to fruition. Mine did, of a sort.
My daddy grew up on a farm in the '30s and '40s. He didn't even get to finish high school because he had to help out on the farm after the great depression. But he was tough and resilient, and a very hard worker. He eventually got old enough to leave the family farm and start his own life with a new young bride fresh from high school, my mama. That was in 1961.
When Mama and Daddy adopted me I was two and a half years old. Daddy was an avid deer hunter and he taught me all about survival and wild animals. I grew up alongside his hounds, all of whom I loved dearly. We had chickens and rabbits, quail, and pigeons. I even had monkeys when I was out of high school. Daddy was a great carpenter and built an awesome monkey enclosure in our backyard complete with a tire swing and PVC pipes across the width every so many feet for them to climb and sit on. It was amazing and I spent many hours with my capuchin monkeys observing their behavior and caring for their every need.
Daddy loved and respected animals and taught me to do the same. I never liked him hunting deer but I found out after he passed away that he had only shot one buck in his entire life. He mostly went "hunting" to observe and be with the deer. To watch them, admire them, be near them, and be with his hunting buddies for great times and even better memories. That wonderful man, my sweet daddy was John Wiley Adams.
So after he was gone it obviously killed me, my heart was and is broken to not have him here anymore. With the sale of some of his properties, I finally bought my husband, myself, and our teen son a house. A home with almost 7 acres of pretty land that came complete with a nice barn/shed, electric fencing around the entire back of the property, and 11 wonderful, curious goats.
So here we are in 2023, I have a house and property, and 11 adorable goats. I also had chickens who were with a farmer friend of ours while we were trying to find a place. Eventually, they all came to live here as well. So my dream of a farm, albeit a small one, came to be. Well almost. It's not private. It's not in some well-hidden location where I can just live peacefully. It's in a suburb. People all around across from and next to me down the street. Noisy highway right next to us with big rigs blazing up and down the roads. But even with that, I am in my element. I have my animals, my small farm, my little house with a big yard. My son is happy and that makes me more happy than anything else.
I had thought and thought about a name for our little piece of paradise, and I decided I wanted to include my precious daddy in the naming. So I named it after him, from his middle name Wiley. It made me smile when the name slipped off my lips. I knew for an absolute fact that he would have loved this place, would be proud of me, and happy for me. So welcome everyone to the Wiley Bunch Ranch.
