musings on a goat

It looks like out little collection of farm animals is going to get a little bigger.

That isn't to say that we haven't all that many animals running around as it is. Although Kayla and I keep our little flock of chickens as 'our' livestock, the farm as a whole is home to about 200 head of cattle.

Sometimes it's fun to branch out a bit - sometimes branching out is just a good idea. Every opportunity to learn about a new animal is an opportunity to rediscover part of a knowledge base that's getting narrower and more specialized over time.

Because it seems to me that the old time farmers knew everything - how to keep cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, turkeys, ducks, horses, you name it; how to fix anything from a combine to a screwdriver; how to grow any plant and where to grow it.

That's not to say that farmers are less knowledgeable - I wish I knew a quarter of the things my father knows - it just seems that so much of that knowledge is now technology based. The Luddite in me shudders at the thought.

And so we're getting a goat. I know next to nothing about goats. I know they have hooves and look a bit like miniature ugly cattle. Beyond that I am largely ignorant.

But the opportunity to learn about goats excites me. I look forward to finding out about goat personalities and traits, what they like to eat and how they like to live.

It's exciting to gain a bit of knowledge out of the ordinary. It makes the world seem a little bigger again.

The goat will arrive soon. I suspect it will be a steep learning curve, but sometimes the bigger challenges are more worth it.

Happy monday from the brush prairie.

the summer, too, shall pass

And so it starts.

Summer this year was busy. Terribly busy. The promise of free time on the drought stricken prairie was short lived: summer is out and school is about to go back in.

I am, however, feeling somewhat hopeful about this year.

You see, this year I'm the English teacher.

Perhaps that doesn't mean a lot to some of you. One teacher is much like another and is probably not worth mention.

For me, however, being the English teacher means something altogether different.

You see, this is why I went into education.

I didn't become a teacher because of the pay, hours, or kids. I became a teacher because I wanted to teach high school English.

And here I am. English teacher in a prairie high school.

Which makes it better, you know, because the prairie high school teacher is something of an archetype. I'm not sure I've been anything archetypal before. This is sort of exciting.

And so I'm going to sit now. Look out my classroom window at the dusty little town. Look at the shelves of books around my wall and think about the fall.

Regards from Alberta's brush plain.

too many sunny days blues

Television and radio weather announcers are jerks.

I try to cut them some slack. I try to be reasonable. I try to see things from their point of view.

In the end I remain convinced they're all jack-asses.

By now, of course, I think most people in Alberta and Saskatchewan are aware that a huge swathe of the prairies is locked in terrible drought. You know the sort - howling winds, dust storms, dying crops.

Supposedly, those in the weather-biz would have gotten the memo by now.

It seems they ignored it.

Because for weeks now I've been listening to "it's another beautiful day out there," "no end in sight to the great weather," or (all time favourite) "don't worry, no rain in sight."

My twitching eyelid begs to differ.

Here on Alberta's brush plain the only word that can raise a smile is rain. The only morning that looks hopeful is a cloudy one. "Warm and sunny" sounds like a swear word to me.

But this week the tables have turned. Clouds fill the sky. Showers are doing their damnedest to fall. The weather-men are all crying.

And I feel glad.

Dear reader, if by chance you find yourself drenched by rain, take heart. Know that there are others who would gladly be in your place.

And if you come across a weather man talking about beautiful sunny weather, punch him once on the nose for me.

I'll be forever in your debt.