Scotland: National Rural Network
Connecting Rural Scotland - Promoting Rural Growth

I have a slight dilemma - should I go for Twitter or Gitter? I am currently debating whether to unleash my inner-most thoughts onto Twitter, you see, something along the lines of "Eating a fantastic sage stuffing and chicken Ciabbata just now" or "In the supermarket debating whether to buy mustard ham or tasty spam for tomorrow's sandwich", that sort of thing, just to keep folks updated about the contents of my lunch on a daily basis. I might even throw in a spot of gardening advice as well.

I hear on the grapevine that the ‘new' Twitter for the "on the ball" and "ahead of the game" chaps like me is something called Old Gitter. In place of Tweets and Twits, it will be Geets and Gits. But should I be a Twit or an Old Git? I will let you know.

I recall another dilemma some years ago in the days when mobile phones were the size of bricks (the battery packs were even bigger!), blackberries were simply blackberries and had nothing to do with bluetooth or trackpad navigation and Twitter was but a twinkle in the eye of the computer.

It was early morning, time to rush off to work, when I discovered that the goat had projectile vomiting. It was most unpleasant (and even more unpleasant for the other goats in the goat shed). Had it eaten a rhododendron? And how on earth does an animal with four stomachs manage to regurgitate such volume and at such speed? So many unanswered questions.

It was clear, however, that the local vet (the one who looks like a footballer) would have to be summoned. But what about going to work? How acceptable is it to take the day off because your goat is sick? It's completely different if it's a child, of course. But a goat? Good Lord! And therein lies the dilemma.

So what sort of pre-fabricated illness do you opt for - stomach flu, head flu, back flu, something like that, or is honesty always the best course of action? Under the circumstances (given that this was a goat matter) I phoned my employer and explained that I had been afflicted with projectile vomiting and would be off work for the day. Perfect. No self respecting employer wants an in depth analysis of that sort of thing at eight thirty in the morning, do they? And although I experienced a temporary period of social isolation on my return to work (particularly in confined spaces: lifts, stationary cupboards and corridors) the vomiting goat was highly appreciative that I took the day off to nurse him back to health.

Whilst on the topic of goats (a recurrent theme in these ramblings) they do an excellent job of keeping the grass down, you know, despite being a trifle indiscriminate. They're not very good at a light trimming (big mouthfuls is more their thing) and not very good at edging either, but in general they get the job done. In an ideal world you would hang onto their back legs and direct them round the garden targeting specific areas, although I'm not too sure if this would really work. No, you would probably need a sheep for that - smaller and more manageable.

But if you do decide to go for the goat option then it's a good investment as long as your garden isn't too neat and tidy. No petrol required, no annual servicing and wonderful goat droppings for the compost heap as well as countless hours of satisfaction and fun over the summer months. It's certainly worth thinking about?

Now while on this theme of grass cutting, I've often wondered about those houses with turf roofs - ‘eco houses' (is that what they're called?). How would you get a goat up there? Sheep are no good as they would fall off. No, it has to be a goat, doesn't it? But how would you get a goat on the roof in the first place? Now there's a mystery.

 Copyright Patrick Vickery 2010

Rural Rambling Archive