the low down, stuck-inside-all-day blues

As the weather warms up and winter loses its grip I get the urge to run around outside and whine when Iit's time to come in.

I hate being inside.

When I became a teacher this was one factor that I failed to take into account - when I spend extended periods indoors I get twitchy and irritable; my pupils dilate and muscles tense up; every nerve in my body starts feeling around for a way to get out.

The classroom I teach in now is by far the best - the classrooms I did both my practicums in had no windows, or the windows were permanently blocked lest children, and student-teachers apparently, were tempted by the lure of the great outdoors.

If you were to walk into my present classroom though you'd find pupils working studiously while their teacher stares out the window amd dreams.

I think for me that is one of the appealing points of the farm - it's a job that still requires brains but you get to spend your life outside, if you choose to that is. More and more it seems that farming means spending hours of each day in front of a computer keeping the books, researching new technologies, or communicating with other farmers.

I'm going to resist that outcome though - if I ever get the chance to farm full time I do not want to run the place from an office chair: I want to get my hands dirty and have the satisfaction of looking with pride at the fruits of my labours.

Until then, though, I have to look for every opportunity to get outside. I will savour the short walk from the school to the car on the way to my meeting tonight, and if there's some daylight left afterwards I'll get what value I can out of it.

And once the dark comes, I'll go inside and get out all the camping gear. Lay it out. Smell it.

And then, I'll wait.

Regards from Alberta's brush plain.