In my past life of collared shirts and conference rooms, one of my most common activities was that of analysis. Data, processes, problems, solutions — anything that exists can be analyzed and just about any question about it can be answered with an educated guess. But before green-lighting a lot of time, money, and people to put that answer into action, one was often served well by verifying that guess with some research. When it came to analysis, I wasn’t half bad and usually enjoyed the work as it often provided productive alone time to balance out all the collaborative-synergizing-teamwork-time spent with others.
Simple greenhouse frames assemble quickly, like furniture from big box retailers. Quality is about the same, too.
What often happens to analysts that enjoy their work is they can be so enamored by the process that they become agnostic to the results. Their job is to just find out what ‘it’ is — then they can let someone else decide what to do with it while moving on to the next analytical puzzle. It was a great luxury for me to be able to study problems and delegate the action to others. Being on the land here at Star & Sparrow allows me plenty of opportunities to continue my analytical tendencies, but as you might have guessed, there is no one to delegate to! If I want something done, I have to do it myself.
This tendency leads to another problem common among left-brainers: analysis paralysis. Lacking an emotional disposition on the facts can make unpleasant realities easier to accept, but it can also leave you high and dry when it comes time to make a choice – like the one I was avoiding while we debated greenhouse options for over a year. We had three categories of options: fast and cheap, affordably expensive with better quality but limited use, or pricey and complicated to build. The first is easy to get into but not reliable or long-lasting. The second involves more effort, quality, and money, but doesn’t really provide more than the first. The third might be beyond budget and skill set, without ever providing an adequate return on investment.
So which did we choose? None, at first. I wasn’t ‘happy’ with any of the choices so we didn’t make one. My solution was to keep looking, keep analyzing. Winter was coming, and Daenerys’ little known fourth dragon, who happens to be my wife, was breathing the fire of urgency upon the matter – we had to make a choice. It was option two— the middle ground, but oops! That’s what everyone else chose too. They were back ordered for two months and higher in price. Now we are setting up cheap greenhouse tents from the ‘Zon (and probably customizing to make them more sturdy) because seedlings need to be started soon and we just can’t wait any longer.
Same with geese. After reading everything I could find on various breeds, researching hatcheries, comparing breed charts, and studying the 27 eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one... drumroll please: Pilgrim Geese! Farley said “great, order the geese!” but no, I must first repeat this process for turkeys, chickens, and ducks. By the time I got around to ordering the geese, they were all sold out. Now we are getting French Toulouse, which was actually my first choice before getting to the Arlo Guthrie level of finger-picking poultry analysis.
One of the excellent charts provided by Metzer Farms to help with breed selection.
Analysis paralysis -> delayed decision -> missed opportunity -> sad Bryon.
We put such a high value on being smart, and getting there involves investing a lot of time in thinking. Sometimes it’s better not to think too much. Maybe this year I will spend more time shooting from the hip, and when it comes to choosing birds, just wingin’ it.