Monthly Archives: November 2013

MILKIN’ IT. #RIPPLEEFFECTUBC

So, I actually got myself out on campus today to see a ripple effect lab!

It did not involve birds.
It did not involve planes. (cry)

IT
INVOLVED
COWS.

And, not just any cows, DAIRY COWS.

So, like, I drink milk, eat yoghurt, dream of ice cream, steam some cheese, dollop the sour cream, delight in fro-yo, cry happy tears into bowls of whipped cream. Yeah, I’m basically a milk addict. SOOOOOOOOOOOOO guyz, it’s no shock that I would jump at the chance to go learn more about where all of this stuff comes from.

Today I was greeted by the lovely faces of a dairy cow, PEARL, and a three-week-old calf, SAM. Both obviously had that celebrity cow charm, but it was Sam who took the cake, like the EYES on that kid. Basically, a future Island Farms model.

HEY, SAM!

 

He was potentially the most endearing thing on campus that I saw all day.  He isn’t even old enough to know when he’s full or not, so he just spent the majority of the time after his feeding looking for things to suck on, after the bottle was gone.  I don’t think I’ve “aweh-ed” out loud that much, ever.
Don’t tell anyone I have a sensitive side.
This can’t get out.

ANYWAY, He’s supposed to grow up to be about 1600-1800 pounds. I mean. DANG BOII.
Not only is he going to be buff and handsome, he also showed tremendous talent, walking at the age of only 2 hours!

Artsy shot of the feeding. #SamLyfe

[pause for reflection of what I was probably doing at the age of two hours…]

His veteran partner, Pearl, though, has quite the story, too.

PEARL, in the background, plus milking machine, plus milker/presenter extraordinaire…

She currently lives in Cloverdale, BC, and enjoys semi-long walks around the farm.
She needs to be milked about two, to three, times a day, or else.
She produces up to about 2240 jugs of milk, in the 10 month lactating cycle. (So, like all of the ice cream I eat?)
She got a tongue, that is 12 inches long. GURLLLLL. You, go.
She needs to chill out for an hour, after being milked, and not lie down, or ELSE her teats will be at risk for disease. (Gosh, it is hard being famous. I feel her pain.)
She enjoys a mixture of corn, grass, alfalfa, hay, and different ground grains for her meals.
She drinks about 120 litres of water, per day.
Each teat has its own compartment, which is why each one needs to be milked.
And, finally, her milk won’t leave the province, because it’s BC milk, and it’s meant to stay here.
BECAUSE
Canada does not export its milk, outside of the country.

For me, this was an awesome Ripple Effect lab, because I got to learn more about how much dairy, one cow actually produces.  It also reaffirmed my belief that more meals can be made out of a dairy cow’s resources than simply a cow meant for meat.  And, hey, that’s pretty sustainable.

So, with #RippleEffectUBC coming to a close tomorrow, I know I will leave with a more enlightened perspective on how I can fit more sustainability into my everyday life, as well as plan for a future, with even more lifestyle changes.

But, for now, I’ll just stick to eating ice cream out of the carton.

That Time I Put Chips in a Girl’s Hair.

hello, and welcome back to another episode of my random life. today, we will be flashing back to various enigmatic fragments of my childhood that shaped me into the mysterious human being that I am today.

But,

Maybe I’m not even human?

Maybe I’m not even mysterious? (Certain people from Chicago would agree…)

Maybe it’s not even today?

[pause for philosophical reflection// to go eat brownies out of the pan with(out) a fork.]

 

So, most people are really cool cats and they have their rebellious stage in like the early years of high school etc.

but, like I am clearly cooler, so I had to have it in grades 1-3.

If I remember correctly, my whole rebellion began when someone wrote “Derrick likes girls” on the board, in grade one.

Look at me, hanging with the ones with cooties. I was basically the Miley Cyrus of my grade. But, my popularity was once eclipsed by this other boy who got one earlobe pierced. Plot twist: he had two earlobes on one ear, too.

Like, HOW DO I COMPETE WITH THAT?

Answer: Petty HARDCORE Theft.

GUMMY BEARS.

So, yeah, I would just go into our classroom at lunch/recess, because the teacher left the door unlocked (what a rookie), and go into the unlocked drawer of her filing cabinet (seriously, she was too trusting), and take handfuls of gummy bears for my friends and I.

Needless to say, this made me popular again.

Eventually, my teacher figured out that someone was doing it, and actually locked the door at lunch. YAWN.

But, I was never caught.

(Mrs. Tressider, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry if this caused you any emotional turmoil, and will buy you a tub of gummy bears. Heck, maybe two since you read my blog.  Ok, seriously, three, because like if you were actually reading this that would be hella creepy, and creepers like you deserve some serious props.  Keep doing what ‘chu do, gurl.)

That was grade one summed up, save the occasional bartering with my teacher regarding what reading level I thought I was, versus what she thought I was.

—

By grade two, I had gained a status as an ally with the girls, and was occasionally put in as mediator, when two girls argued who killed the spider, which had evidently caused the rain.

I had also grown an overactive imagination, on account of the sleep I did not really get. I imagined that, at night, my parents got in their car, and turned into monsters, and went around eating people.

Yep.

Of course, they returned back to normal, in the morning.

My peak though was putting chips in this girl’s hair, whom I was like really crushing on. (HEY KIMBERLEY, IF YOU’RE READING THIS.) (side note: she also goes to UBC now! small world, yo.)

So obvi I had to figure out a way to get her attention.

Which meant chasing her halfway around school to put crunched up salt ‘n’ vinegar chips in her hair.

It was some of my finest work.
Critics were raving about it.
Supervision Aids were overly concerned about it.
Hair was lost over it.
Tears were shed.

Needless to say she wasn’t into me, even after I had poured my metaphorical heart (of chips) all over her. WHY COULDN’T SHE SEE? (I’m really good at giving/receiving signals regarding affection for someone, LAWLZ, not.)

 

So, I moved on, to this other girl, who liked TY stuffies, like me, and also had a slight obsession with the Lindsay Lohan version of Freaky Friday.

A majestic playdate ensued, and we ended up watching Freaky Friday together, and we both fangirled over the fact that she had a DVD player. (I came from a VHS family, guys. The struggle was real.)

I drew a portrait of her and I on the cover of my “Student of the Week” planner, when it was finally my week. Turns out that book is full of lies, because I forgot which hospital I was actually born in, so I just said Children’s hospital to fit in with the people that were emerging as popular.

—

Grade Three was basically me being super angst-y, and taking it out on my handwriting notebook.  This is probably why my handwriting is really ugly, to this day, and like why I can’t really take notes in a class, because I usually can’t read them after.

The key display of my angst was around remembrance day 2003 (THROWBACK GUYZ), when this kid and his mom brought in these patches and medal things (that were his grandfather’s) for show-and-tell.

We were expected to pass them around and gawk at how amazing they were, but I was so unimpressed, so instead of getting up to pass the patch around the room, I threw it.  Now, it was a patch, so it went like less than a foot, but it still hit the ground. DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN.

And my teacher was all, YOU GET A YELLOW CARD.

and I was all, STOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU. I’m the one that got hit by the bus.

but real talks, His mom probably still hates me..

Whatevs. She needed a haircut.

—

I was basically your model child.

 

Oh, btws, I also host children’s birthday parties. Call me?