I never wear shorts on the farm, ever. Now I have another reason not to.
I've been a farmer for 5 years and had several reasons to not wear shorts. I used to live in shorts, flip flops and tank tops in the summer. I still wear tank tops, but between the snakes, poison ivy and a rooster that attacked my legs (now terminated), I don't wear shorts or flip-flops. Well, until recently. I haven't seen any snakes yet this spring; the goats have almost gotten rid of the poison ivy and, as I said, the attack rooster is no longer with us. So on an occasional weekend afternoon, when I'm relaxing on the porch on a hot, lazy afternoon I may wear shorts and flip flops.
This evening I had planned to change into long pants before starting the evening animal chores, but it just didn't seem necessary. I did leave the flip flops in the house and wore garden shoes because, you know, there's just too much shit out there. Chickens, ducks and guineas got their evening grain and headed to their coops. The goats get a snack of juice bar scraps in the morning and evening when I milk Daisy - for which I am very grateful to a juice bar that will go unnamed lest they get in trouble and we stop getting goat snacks from them.
This evening I carried the bowls up the hill to the goat pen and started dividing them up. Two bowls for Quinta and Paco and a bucket for Daisy (she is the one producing milk, after all) into the main shed where Quinta and Paco eat in one room while I milk Daisy in the other. Sister has a pen she eats in. Spike and Dena eat outside unless it raining. If I don't separate them somehow, only a couple of them would get to eat. Goats don't like to share. When one is finished, he or she goes after the next bowl. You have to eat fast and be aggressive in goat world. I put Quinta and Paco's bowls and the bucket on a little shelf and then I feel tiny, scratchy, mousy toes on my ankles. Yikes! That'll freak you out a little in a mostly dark room.
There are mice that hang out in the goat shed because some of the goats are messy eaters and the mice get to clean up what the goats leave behind. I'm sure I just scared the hell out of the little guy; he jumped and accidentally bounced off of me on his way to safety. Honestly that was the first thing I thought, too, even though I couldn't see what got me. Then the second thing I thought was "snake?" and I jumped, a hair too late if it had been a snake. But no, it was tiny toenails. A snake would have left a mark. The only snakes we see are the non-venomous, farm-friendly varieties. I won't kill one, but I am cautious because I'm sure it would hurt to get bitten on bare skin. But even just to avoid tiny toenails in the dark, maybe long pants are a good idea.
