With regard to our specific learning curve (maybe a more accurate description is steep, rocky mountain pass with 200 ft. sheer drops on either side rather than a curve). We never embark on anything without giving it careful consideration and in preparation for Farmageddon we have read, researched, listened, questioned, networked, become very familiar with YouTube, and attended workshops. Some of the highlights have included a well maintenance seminar, an evening of 'looking after your septic system', permaculture lessons and, perhaps the most mind numbing, a chicken nutrition workshop.
We also have an existing skill base and strengths that will be useful. Firstly, we are a great team. Ian and I work well together and can get things done. Ian is a great leader and organiser. He is also knowledgeable in growing and has produced vegetables on a small plot for many years. I believe I am the right type of person to manage animals. I used to work with horses, often on farms, until I was 21. I always care for and respect animals and make their welfare my primary concern. If there is a hard decision to be made, for example, an animal to be sold or put to sleep, I can turn off my emotions and make that choice objectively. So I felt entitled to begin my day yesterday quite well informed and confident.
The day began with cleaning Jessica's guinea pigs out. Instead of the usual routine I decided to embrace our 'reduce, reuse, recycle' ethos and bring the old paddling pool out of retirement as an enclosure for them while I cleaned the cage. I put it in the back yard and lovingly placed some toys and hay in there and was careful to ensure their safety. All appeared fine as I wondered off to get clean bedding. As I was on my way back to the yard I noticed a huge shadow zip over me and the realization hit. This is Canada and my Britishness had made me complacent. I forgot about threats from above! There was a huge eagle circling above my yard surely believing this to be the eagle equivalent of Subway. In my rush to save the Guinea Pigs I left the door open releasing our dog (a terrier cross, bred for catching rodents) into the yard. Chaos ensued. I had to dive for the dog and wrestle poor Baxter to the ground, knocking the plastic paddling pool into a spin. Once the paddling pool regained stability, I became suddenly aware that all of us (me, the 2 G-pigs and Baxter the dog) were sprawled on the floor, silent and shaking. On the bright side, at least that lesson has passed in my small backyard. As caring as I claim to be, I would have never sprinted across 5 acres to save the damn rodents! Note to self: think predator.
Second lesson of the day: chicken ordering. Again, much research into breeds and careful consideration had been put into this decision and yesterday I confidently presented myself at the hatchery clutching my order form only to have Emily (chicken Mother extraordinaire) look at me and declare it wasn't really a good time to hatch these particular breeds. And so there I was again. In the desolate emotional wasteland of feeling like a novice. I did come away having placed an order after Emily had guided me through other options in her best Kindergarten teacher voice.
The day wasn't over. I mentioned my love of animals, but as with everything, there is a limit and I have very clearly defined boundaries. My tolerance ends when creatures have less than 2 legs or more than 4 legs. So when I found a slug on my hand last night while I was tending my beautiful veggie patch, I lost my cool. The slug was sent orbiting and I ran to wash my hand omitting various "eeeewwwww' noises and some choice words.
I feel like there might be a lot more choice words on the horizon.
Groan!
