As a busy farmer, every now and then I come up with a time saving device that I’d like to offer to others for their consideration. Here it is: I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think that matching socks is an expectation foisted upon people by the sock industry and I have decided to no longer be victimized by their oppressive social manipulation. Who made the rule that donning unmatched socks was a social faux pas, anyway? I’ll tell you who! The Sock People, that’s who. And why? Because perfectly good, but unmatched, socks by the boatload are thrown away each and every day, filling up our landfills and our childrens’ environmental futures. Those unnecessarily discarded socks have to be replaced, with the only beneficiary being, you guessed it, the sock people. Oh, there’s more. Have you ever stopped to consider the opportunity cost of all that time you have spent MATCHING socks? I bet you haven’t. Well, I have. And it’s a boatload, there, too. I say, let’s spend our time in productive pursuits, not wasting time matching socks…when doing so fails to benefit the end consumer in any real way. Rise up! Defend yourself against the machinations of the sock industry. Red with White, Flowered with Plaid. Proudly display your solidarity against the sock conspiracy and save your valuable time, your sock budget, and the earth!
Next week: why making beds is a waste of time.
You know, I’ve always thought of goats as rugged animals, survivalists even. A beast that can eat your shoe, or a piece of your car on a bad day, is no sissy. So I am really entertained to discover that they’re afraid of rain. This isn’t an individual trait, but the whole herd’s. Even a little mist is viewed with suspicion, but the actual downpour that we received in the last couple days has been met with herd-wide alarm. Our off-limits farmhouse door is only 40 or so feet from the goat’s barn, but when a few sprinkles landed on them, they roared into my house which offered a closer refuge than the barn door. Like the actual 10 feet more had they gone in the opposite direction to their barn, was too dicey. And then resolutely stood their ground when invited to leave. I know we’ve gone over this before; no goats in the livingroom. But getting a goat to move toward something they’re afraid of is like trying to argue with arugula. Each one had to be unbrella’d and carried to the barn, where they’ve sulked for hours waiting for the wet stuff to go away.