Rainy Day Reflection

I've been gardening off and on for probably 15 years or so. I'm not really sure how long exactly. But as a gardener, I absolutely loved the rain. Really. Rain naturally contains nitrogen, which gives a nice little boost to all those lovely organisms who typically stay right where they're planted and don't go around busting off integral bits of their anatomy like SOME people I know (I'm looking at you, Jingle).

Then I got goats. It's a good thing I bought them at the end of the summer when we were relatively dry because if I'd jumped into goat ownership in the soggy apex of winter, I'm not sure I'd have retained the title of Goatherd.

I thought ducks were nasty. Actually, I still think ducks are nasty. But goats? They're nasty on a scale I never anticipated. Plus, they get parasites. Do you know how goat owners and other interested parties check for parasites? If you don't already know, might I suggest a quick Google search. But not while you're eating. And that's really just pocket change compared to the fragrant and biblically immoral characteristics of a buck. I promise, you've never seen anything like it. I don't believe there's another domesticated animal that really triggers the gag reflex or brings your integrity into focus quite like these particular ruminants.

Anyway, it's raining this morning. The folks who make the weather have indicated that the precipitation, along with a pinch of tornado anxiety, will continue all day long. As I was sipping my coffee creamer and preparing to go out and feed the mafia inmates, it occurred to me that I am considerably less enthusiastic about the rain now than I was when the only entry on my homestead resume was "gardener." I probably need to modify our infrastructure to simplify this whole feeding ordeal because right now this chore invokes a touch of resentment every time it rains.