The Baboon Congress

This Isn’t About Goats

72 Comments

Today’s guest post is by Barb in Blackhoof.

Well, ok, I lied. For the last five years I haven’t really been able to talk about much outside of the context of goats. I can listen, but my reply may be shaped around a goat experience I had or something I read or something I watched about goats. Frequent visitors to Trail Baboon know this very well already. But this was not always so.

About 12 years ago when my father-in-law died, my husband had to clear out the family home. On one of the last days all the sibs were inside taking things they wanted, but I stayed outside (being an in-law) waiting for Steve to emerge with something. He came out with some small memento and asked, “Don’t you think you’d like something??” I said no (not wanting to get in the way), but he persisted, and I finally said, “well, ok – I’ll take the Goat.”

The Goat was a down-sized, plaster of paris version of Picasso’s La Chevre (often called “Pregnant Goat”) that Steve’s Mom had given his Dad for some gift because she called him “the old goat.” (Remember when Dayton’s eighth floor had that section where you could buy copies of sculpture and art?)

I only wanted this piece because I liked the story behind it and I liked the looks of it. At that time there was no farm, no idea of animals of any kind in my mind. I was working full time and just looking at farms or acreage for fun, thinking my City-Boy, English Professor Husband would never agree to move anywhere further than 100 yards from a library.

Fast forward to 2002, October. Blah, blah, blah, I bought the farm. There were two outbuildings, empty and very clean. One stored about three cords of red oak fire wood. The other was completely empty. Many days I’d stand in the pole barn and wonder how I could put it to use. Then, in 2005 at the State Fair I was wondering through the goat barn, when it occurred to me that these animals were pretty cool. Like Tim’s daughter, I stayed most of that day in the barn talking with goat owners about housing, caring, cost, etc. Then at the 2006 Carlton County Fair, I met a woman who needed someone to care for her animals for five days that October. Great. I can help and in exchange learn about goats first hand. So, in October of 2006 I milked a doe for the first time. (I milked six goats twice a day for five days – at the end of that time I could not feel my hands ☺.) During those five days, I fell in love with Georgette, an Alpine doe who was calm and had a little hairy white “G” on her brown nose. Georgette let me lean my head on her belly while I milked her (forever, it took me, since I was a newbie!) and I decided dairy goats were for me – not just any old dairy goats, but the Alpine breed. And it occurred to me that Georgette looked a lot like La Chevre. In May of 2007 we moved to the farm and I bought two does (one being Dream) and in March 2008 Alba was born. Dreamy will be five years old soon, and looks more and more like that pregnant goat.

And this all started with a little sculpture that I took home, not knowing what was in store for us just seven years (and a lifetime) down the road. Spooky.

When has a moment’s random choice later revealed itself as the first step on a good path?

72 thoughts on “This Isn’t About Goats”

  1. thanks barb, now we know….
    the ease of realizing it is right for you and being able to follow that is the secret we all need to pay attention to. my 7th grade daughter is hunting for 8th grade arts schools in town because she knows that is what she want to do with her life. acting singing and writing. this is very scary for me. to cut off focus on math science and social studies seems to be a sentence to a world without…… math and science and social studies. maybe it will be ok. i am working through it.
    my moment of truth came the summer between 9th and 10th grade when joe havel called ans asked me to be the lead singer in the rock band. i had never considered such a thing and it did not come naturally. being on stage in front of a whole bunch of people singing and tying the evening together with stories and little quips was a challenge and the butterflies were the size of vw vans but what the heck, the show must go on. that little diversion got me on a track away form the jock based focus i had prior to that and into the arts and the presentation biz. the difference between presenting a jethro tull tune to a bunch of hippies in the school cafeteria on prom night and making a million dollar presentation to the buying staff at walmart is there but everyone has to start somewhere and this is where i got my start. it is interesting how the understanding that people out there no matter who they are, are just people and the relationship you build is based on what is going on at the moment is life altering. i may not please everyone with the way i present my stuff but at least if i am consistent they will remember it is from that guy who sends his emails in all lower case letters and his visions with that certain je ne se qua. it is enough.

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    1. Tim, I was in Grade 6 when it came to me that I was going to be a clinical psychologist, and after that there was no other choice that appealed or made any sense. It sounds like your daughter knows what she is about.

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      2. Clinical psychologists are people with PhD’s or PsyD’s in clinical or counselling psychology who specialize in administering and interepreting tests of cognitive, intellectual, or personality functioning, and diagnose various psychological and cognitive disorders. They also provide mental health treatment and therapy to people through the life span. Those with PhD’s often do research as well as testing and therapy. Those with PsyD’s tend to focus more on therapy. Psychologists don’t prescribe medications. That task is for psychiatrists, who are MD’s.

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      4. Thanks, Renee. I was kidding about the last half of my statement, but like Edith I’m awestruck that in 6th grade you were that focused. In 6th grade I was torn between wanting to be a nurse in Albert Schweitzer’s and a movie star. As it turns out, I didn’t have the right stuff for either!

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      6. My Grade 6 teacher read a book to the class about a clinical psychologist who did play therapy with emotionally disturbed children. After I heard it I said that was what I wanted to do, and I did.

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      8. My route to becoming a therapist wasn’t nearly as clear, Renee. In junior high, I tried my damnedest to convince everyone in the neighborhood to build a bomb shelter. When that didn’t work, I scared the beejezus out of the little kids I babysat with talk of a holocaust and subsequently lost all my baby sitting jobs! I then went onto ardent civil rights work; then women’s rights; then children’s rights. Ultimately, it occurred to me that if I was going to spend so much energy to “fight for the underdogs”, I might as well earn a degree in a helping profession and be paid (however poorly) for my efforts.

        Since I was lousy at math, and math was required to get a degree in psychology, I veered into clinical social work. Although the two masters I went on to earn lent credibility, I’d have to say that the years of fighting causes and the years of doing my own therapy work were 90% of any effectiveness I’ve had as a therapist over the last 3 decades. Few know that in the beginning of social work, we were referred to as “Friendly Visitors” and paid with chickens or goats? The pay hasn’t improved much since that time, but no amount of money can define passion, and I am passionate about this work!

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    2. tim – there are some good schools in town with an arts focus that are interdisciplinary (like the FAIR school in Crystal – I have a pal who teaches there and speaks highly of the cross-discipline approach to teaching and learning). She’ll find something. And speaking as an arts major, I can assure you that a grounding in the arts is a good leaping off point for many things (all that creativity, problem solving, finding new ways to see and do stuff…I use my non-performance theater training more than you might think in my daily work).

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      1. I’ve heard very good reports about the Perpich Center for Arts Education in Golden Valley as well. I agree with Anna, that creative problem solving is a boon to any career.

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      2. I’m pretty sure the Perpich school is for 11th-12th grade only. (My middle daughter applied there several years ago and alas, was not accepted.)

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    3. tim–As a Social Worker/Artist Business Person, I never thought I would be the Business Person, much less be good at it! People grow into their lives. So will your beautiful daughter.

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    4. thanks everyone. my daughter is going to love that her blog aunts are pulling for her arts pursuit. i went to fair in crystal with her last year and was not very impressed but i am not sure i gave it a fair shake. purpich is where she is figuring on going but thats not until 11th grade so we need to find a suitable 3 year bandaid/s to get her there. its nice to find a bunch of old hippuies who care that are willing to voice an opinion on my daughters behalf.

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      1. Just for the sake of balance, tim, the s&h wants nothing further to do with arts education. He is a science and math guy (with a healthy dose of history and literature, but the fine arts, no). I grieve a bit over this, but on the other hand, I have to admit that we can still spend a very happy day at the MIA and he is very able to sit through a classical music concert and enjoy it.

        I’ve concluded that formal study isn’t everything. If your daughter hasn’t already discovered this, science is rich with beautiful images.

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  2. Very nice, Barb. I am hearing The Road Not Taken while I read your post. I talked with someone recently who is thinking of a mid-life career change to become an ordained pastor. This person talked about a “gentle tug” to the heart to describe the sense of call he/she was having. Maybe our random choices that lead us down good paths are not that random, but are just those times we take the time to listen to our hearts for what we truly need to do to fulfill ourselves.

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  3. Good morning to all. My marriage started with unexpectedly meeting the person I have been married to for more 40 years at a party. I got my start in sustainable agriculture by applying for a job that I didn’t think I would get. Some how the Rodale Insititute decided to interview me to be the coordinator of their Midwest Farmer’s Network.

    I was well positioned to do the job Rodale was offering, but I usually don’t get jobs like that because somebody else has the inside track due to the backing they have from an “important” person. There was an “important” person who told me that I shouldn’t have gotten the job because he was backing another candidate. Apparently that “important” person wasn’t as important as he thought he was.

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  4. Good job, barb, even if you did lie. Anyway, I think we would be dissapointed if you didn’t write about goats and as tim said, “now we know….”

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  5. Random choices that I made in my youth, led me, step by step, to where I am today. By deciding to ride my bike from Switzerland to Denmark and staying in youth hostels along the way, I exposed myself to lots of other young people whose travels inspired me. That resulted in four years of working and traveling abroad. At a critical juncture, I had a choice of two different jobs, one in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, the other in Søndrestrømfjord, Greenland. I chose Søndrestrømfjord where I met an married my ex, thus sealing my fate by immigrating to the US. I sometimes wonder how my life would have been different had I chosen Rio. Unlike Renee and tim’s daughter, I’ve never had a clear vision of what my vocation is.

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  6. Rise and Shine Baboons!

    My life is full of these tiny choices that merge into larger forks in the road, then a highway. I moved back to the Cities from outstate MN in 1986 a newly divorced single parent. I worked as a school social worker for 2 years. Despite that ever -coveted summer vacation, I found I did not like school social work. The summer of 1988 I found a new job, but before completely leaving the school position, some teacher friends drug me off to a singles dance that I did not want to go to, and by chance, was the ONLY singles dance I ever went to. I met my now husband there that night. 24 years later we have survived layoffs and unemployment (Lou), breast cancer (me), 19 years of marriage, re-modelling projects, and step-parenting. We also now have an OK house, a terrific garden, 3 grandchildren and wonderful travel memories.

    All because I caved to peer pressure and went to a singles dance. And yes, except for Lou it really was a nightmare worthy of a blog post.

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    2. In some ways, saying yes to peer pressure might seem like a small and random event. But I notice that your decision to go to the dance was, at bottom, life-affirming and positive. You were taking yourself out of your comfort zone to do something that had a chance of being embarrassing or boring, but also a chance to be rewarding. I think it isn’t entirely a matter of chance that you went to the dance. Earlier events in your life prepared you to take a little chance, and in that sense you deserved the wonderful fortune that fell to you.

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    3. There was someone on MPR yesterday (I think it was Midmorning – I only caught part of it) talking about the positive uses for peer pressure (one example was the anti-smoking campaign for teens with the “Truth” commercials). Clearly that singles dance was a positive use of peer pressure. 🙂

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  7. Morning-
    Thanks for the background Barb.
    We often speak of how lucky and fortunate we are. A lot of opportunities have come our way through my wife’s favorite Aunt and Uncle. Even after they both died, with all the sadness that caused, the fact that they were able to provide opportunities to this day is such a wonderful thing.
    It’s not exactly a ‘moments random choice’ but the choices they made 15 years ago that led to an option for us 10 years ago giving us possibilities today is still such a wonderful thing.

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    1. glad it working ben. i still laugh at the boone and erickson radio show back when the lottery was first introduced to minnesota and one of them i cant remember if it was boone or erickson came from a farming backgroud down around wilmar i think and he was saying in a half dream kind of far away voice…. oh if i won 4 million dollars in the lottery i would go out and buy a farm and i would keep farming until it was all gone. … that was back when farming times were very tough but i dont think the sentiment ever changes too much.

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      1. In the mudroom at home back when I was milking cows I wrote down a quote from an episode of PHC where Garrison said ‘Having a heard of cows is not the same as having a social life’.

        Also written on the wall is from John Irving, “Oh the power of the written word”

        And ‘I always think there’s a band kid’… from the Music Man, Just for fun. 🙂 It makes me smile.

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  8. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, nor have I had the strong pull that Renee or tim’s daughter have/had. And I never would have suspected that my oddball double major of theater and cultural anthropology would ever be applicable to any sort of “real” work, let alone something like technical writing and web site work (computers were something still foreign when I was in undergrad – if you would tell the 19 year-old-me that I would be working with them a lot and with technology 15-20 years on I would have asked what was in your pipe). But I never would have started down that path had my best friend not been bitten by the theater bug in 5th grade, which meant I had to follow her there….which meant in high school I wound up on the stage crew which meant i fell in love with tools which lead to a theater design major…and here I am. And somewhere in the basement I still have my first crescent wrench.

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      1. I keep losing my locking pliers and hammers to the garden shed. I don’t know how many times I have explained to Husband that they are not gardening tools. Pretty sure that’s how I lost my favorite hammer (that I had about as long as the crescent wrench). Harumph indeed.

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      4. I have 27 hammers from misplacing them over the years then finally having a spot where they go. now I just have to wonder whee the one I want is. I always use the top one.

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  9. Morning all — I’ve had several of these moments, but the one I am most grateful for was back in 1983. I was working at a health food store downtown Minneapolis and generally not all that happy. It was a family-owned business and it was clear there would be no moving up the food chain unless you were in the family. There was a very small B Dalton on the first floor of our building and I knew several of the employees, partly from visiting the store and partly from them visiting the health food store for smooties over lunch. On one particularly no-fun day, I ran into the bookstore manager in the bathroom and made one of those “I’d be happier if I were working with you” comments that people toss off to make conversation. She replied quickly that she was hiring for a new store opening in Crystal Court and that I should apply. I did apply, got the job and on April 16 (a Saturday) went downtown to fill out my first paperwork and do some training. That morning I met another new employee… Sara. Fast forward 30-some odd years and I’m thrilled to say that Sara is still my very best friend. We often talk about life’s little turns and I always think how happy I am that I went to the bathroom at just that moment in my life!

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  10. I guess it was a sort of random choice that led to my (unfortunately, not long-lived enough) library career. About the time I first started college, I interviewed for two jobs: library shelver (aka library aide in some systems) and theater usher. I got the library job, liked it, and eventually got a master’s degree in library science; I’d still be a librarian if there had been any full-time jobs in Minnesota. I have no idea what might have happened if I’d gotten the usher job–definitely not acting, but maybe something backstage? Interesting to think about.

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  11. It will shock my baboon friends to hear that I was not conspicuously brilliant as a youngster. I was a miserable athlete and not much more of a scholar. Then one day when I was 13 my English teacher assigned us to write a little paper about some special moment in our lives. I chewed that over and came to the conclusion that I could do that assignment and even sparkle as I did. The decided to write about the most exciting event in my short life, which was to shoot my first pheasant.

    That paper was the first thing I did that won me a top grade and heaps of praise. It was odd, writing that paper, for I felt a kind of confidence I had never felt before in my life. “I can do this,” I said to myself. I could picture just how I would tell the story and what I could do to make it thrilling to read. “I can do this. I can even do it really well.”

    Go fast forward now three decades. For a time I was the most active and successful writer in the country on the topic of pheasants and pheasant hunting. I wrote or was the principle writer for four books on the topic.My career as a writer about outdoor recreation included other topics, but the core of my identity and success as a writer was always pheasants. And I often smiled to think of the little seventh-grader who suddenly felt a surge of confidence and power when meeting a challenge. “I can do this.” And I could.

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    3. Your writing gift has always been about drawing the reader into each experience/story you craft, Steve. I recall being so delightfully surprised when I read your first book on pheasant hunting. Surprised because I had absolutely no interest whatsoever in this topic, but when reading about it in your words, I was overwhelmingly engaged in the adventure right along side you! Delighted because I’d worried about how to act as if
      it was interesting to me when, in fact, I could care less about pheasant hunting. Much to
      my surprise, as I read it (and every other book you’ve authored) I felt immense gratitude for the privilege of experiencing something brand new as though I was there. I thank you for that.

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    5. Steve, I always enjoy your writing. As Cb says, you take us with you in a way where I can actually feel what it’s like to be there. It’s fun to read about that first time!

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  12. Barb, I also have that copy of Picasso’s pregnant goat, but I got mine after I had live goats which I got because I wanted fresh milk, the neighbor’s cow was dry and hay was scarce that summer…got 2 goats. That was 1976. Those 2 goats ended up to be 19 with several in the freezer…goat herds grow fast…then they all died and I was “dry” for many years until that same goat lady where you fell in love with Alpines came along with an offer to “rent-a-goat” or two. Hooked again. Good place to be, you and me.

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    2. Since the goat owners are 2 for 2 with the Picasso replica, wonder where that puts me for future goat ownership since my goat statue is not the Picasso pregnant goat. Not even sure what flavor of goat he/she is other than cute, small and made of scrap metal (so I don’t have to worry about the furniture being nibbled on when she comes inside for the winter). Maybe it’s a “he” since there is a little beard…

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      1. any goat may have a beard, Anna – does or bucks and even Niblet, our wether (castrated male companion to T) has a little beard. i’d LOVE to see a picture of your scrap metal goat! can you send it to me via FB?

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  13. Greetings! So many small, random choices begin the path of a whole chain of events that leads us to where we are. The odd realization as an awkward, stuttering youngster that I was more comfortable reading a script and being onstage than talking to someone face-to-face turned me toward theater. Unfortunately, once down that path in college the truth of my lack of talent, craft and fortitude to deal with constant rejection left me in the lurch of finishing a degree that I wasn’t truly suited for.

    Like Anna, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. An old boyfriend turned me on to health foods and wellness that has become a passionate interest of mine — but not a livelihood.
    I’ve trained in BioSync bodywork and taught myself foot massage — but it’s just a small, casual income. I seem to be a generalist — similar to my usual livelihood of administrative work. I know a little about a lot of stuff, but not enough to be an expert at any one thing. I get bored with a lot of detailed knowledge — but I’m good at dealing with details of an office environment or paperwork. I love martial arts, but I don’t think I’m suited to be a teacher. So what’s a girl to do? Write a blog perhaps …

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    1. Joanne, there are so many of us who were/are not focused on one way. it’s wonderful if you can love both your work and hobbies. but sometimes your work can help your afford your hobbies or retirement interest. also, it might be wiser to pursue your most intense interest as an avocation – sometimes doing it as work takes all the joy out of it.

      math and music (and probably other arts) are so closely interrelated. there was a man in Mpls in the 70s (and probably later than that) who was a mathematician and he also built absolutely beautiful harpsichords. he was the one that told me (in a “how to build your own harpsichord class) how science and art can mesh.

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      1. While it’s true I do love the arts and sciences — you can forget about math. The sight of a simple algebra equation gives me brain freeze and my knees quake. My 17-yr old son, however, is outstanding at math, music and karate. It all comes easily and naturally to him. Jim is a whiz at math and problem-solving as well. Not me — my brain moves very slowly.

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      2. But thanks, Barb, for the insight and encouragement. I don’t love being an administrative clerk, but I tolerate it well. I really resonate with the idea of doing what you love and the money will come — but the transition of still paying the bills until you get to that point is a very scary road to cross right now — no safety net in place.

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  14. THIS IS ABOUT GOATS
    http://www.twincities.com/ci_19775858
    Actually it’s about goat. Curley the goat was taken to Bethlehem Lutheran Church to play a part in the nativity scene (bet it wasn’t an angel) on Christmas Eve. She slipped her leash and has been missing ever since. A reward for her return was offered and increased as it got colder. Yesterday she was found with some other goats near Fergus Falls.With one hoof forward she is now on the right path!.

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    2. our goats were invited to a nativity scene in Duluth that involved mass numbers of folks at an event. we politely declined for just that reason. slipping out of a collar is just too easy to do – even T can get that big, old head out of his collar, especially if they are somewhere they don’t want to be.

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  15. So many results from random choices! If I hadn’t accepted the invitation to join some older college friends for a summer in San Francisco, I wouldn’t have got to California (and neither would my sister, most likely). If I hadn’t gone to a former boyfriend’s party and met Eddie, I would never have lived in New York City. If I hadn’t hated living there I might never have come back to the midwest, and Minneapolis. If I hadn’t worked a flaky job at Pinecrest, Inc. I wouldn’t have met Rose or married her brother…

    I resonate with those of you who’ve said you still wonder what you’ll be doing when you grow up. The latest enticing field is Music Therapy, which I may take a course in to see if I like it – heard Oliver Sacks on Midmorning… talking about success from use with both autism and Alzheimers… There’ll be another one – If I hadn’t heard that on Midmorning…

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