Resistance is Resilience

let them have their bugs and beans, we’ll keep our beef

Goats grow here. Therefore, we shall eat and drink of goat.

We buy our goat’s hay from a local grass farmer down along the valley. This year it’s wrapped haylage—the season was too wet to make hay. Hay needs good drying conditions and this summer rained from late June and didn’t stop.

Our hay guy is an astute, respectable, late middle aged man, with a keen interest in current affairs and a sharp intellect. He sees through all the shit and tells it as he sees it, and I like that. He’s been growing grass on his flat, fertile land along the river for decades. He keeps shiny, prize-winning show ponies, stallions with crested necks and flared nostrils that he breeds only to his own, flashy, dish faced mares, and rears the finest looking calves on the cleanest straw beds I ever did see. He only buys the best calves, he tells us, but I’m more impressed with the conditions of their keep, the contentedness of his animals always munching happily on liberal heaps of sweet, fresh silage, breath ste…