Dave had to work on the tractor the other day and as he finished up, he got some sediment into another part of the tractor - not sure what it's called. By his exclamation it was apparent that this was not a good thing. That got me thinking. We get sediment in our systems and don't run the way we were made to. Physically our cholesterol gets to clogging our arteries, inflammation affects our functions and sometimes cell existence goes awry. Mentally and emotionally we also get sediment in the system. Negative energy, toxic relationships, obstacles which challenge us to our limits are all types of sediments that interfere with smooth sailing. But we can't avoid it. The good and the bad are all part of the picture.
I've been very mindful of the emotional/mental sediment and how it's interfering with my best self. Therapy and medication are tools I use to keep the system running smoothly but over the last year life has been running like an engine using the wrong fuel. There are biological reasons for this and ''just because" reasons....It's made it tough to keep on keeping on around here. I keep myself busy so that my thoughts don't overtake me but it's a crapshoot. Sometimes the physical work works, sometimes not so much.
And the thing is, it's affected my relationship with the farm...with the animals. It's been hard having to take care of the animals. These days - except for caring for my grandson, the only thing - person - I want to be responsible for is me.... I've loved animals since I can remember but the drain of having to care for them has become an obstacle to overcome. It's not fair to Dave who works so hard around here and has grown to love our fur babies. I still love them but because of whatever it is that keeps me off kilter - I want to say good-bye to them and find them another good home.
But having them keeps me going....keeps me getting up in the morning because I'm not going to let them suffer. The dogs and cats as well....but they are such loves, how could I say good-bye, really?
Listening to Garrison Keillor - A Prairie Home Companion...I live in my own Lake Woebegone...if only it were that easy - just to say Woe- Be Gone and the black cloud would dissipate into little fluffs. But it's just another day on the farm...the end of the day and the animals ar settled for the night and I am ready to surrender to sleep. And then tomorrow I'll wake up again and take care of the animals and they will be alright. And I'll be alright....the sediment will get shaken out evetually.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
The Farm - June 2014
It is 5:30 a.m. Miracles do occur. It's been 3 days straight that I have awakened at this early hour. Previous medications had me sleeping until 9-10 a.m. I'm not sure if this is a side effect of my most recent medication regime but I'm not complaining. My morning chores are done - although there is always something to do here on the farm. The animals are fed and watered and later I will attend to mucking out stalls and helping Dave with anything he needs.
It also occurs to me that if I am able to keep this a regular wake up time, I may actually be able to post on a regular basis. Write and post. Write and post. That has always been a part of the plan for my life but I have been so negligent. But no self-flagellation. Just do it. However, even at this early hour the dogs are managing to be a distraction. It's amazing the things that can come between a person and her intentions. Of course it doesn't take much. Although I say that I want to write, it's truly amazing how much I let distract me. To quote Dorothy Parker, (I think), I'm more of the opinion that I like "having written." The actual sitting down and writing takes an amazing amount of discipline. It's too reminiscent of having to do homework and term papers during my school days. It's funny though because once I get started, I enjoy crafting the paragraphs that tell a story as well as doing research if necessary. For me, it's like discovering hidden treasures. Having to write a sermon on a near weekly basis is pretty much the equivalent of writing a term paper. Weekly. That's a lot and I know that when I was younger, it would not have been voluntary thing.
So - as to farm life, I enjoy the physicality of the work although let me not kid myself. I do not overload myself when it comes to heavy duty requirements. The thing is - it's not that I don't want to. I do but my stamina and energy and physical abilities stop lower on the ladder than that of others. I just cannot exert anymore energy than that of oh, I don't know, a 54 year old grandmother. But that's really not an accurate picture of grandmahood. Many women my age as well as both younger and older have much more energy and physical strength to accomplish specific taskes. And to prove it's not a matter of my age, it's been this way almost forever. I was never the one to keep up with the crowd, whether running or bicycling. I do help Dave with his endeavors but he knows not to push the envelope. Once I feel I've exerted my maximum effort, I'm done. It's over. I have to go and replenish the energy stores for further tasks.
This is the really funny or maybe ironic part of this whole farm thing. It's been more my practice to do less work and here I am taking on what is basically and endless enterprise. Never mind household ownership, farm reality dictates that there will always be something to work on. And I volunteered for this. Wanted it even. Mom & Dad always indicated that farm life was hard work. I would say I wish we lived on a farm and Mom would basically snort and say, "Never again." She had grown up on a farm and couldn't wait to leave. She moved to the city in her late teen years and remained there until she and Dad decided that their family needed to be a suburban family so when I was four, we moved to Monmouth County, NJ. After reading Charlotte's Webb and other animal related tales, that's when my desire to live the country life awakened. But Mom & Dad did not mislead me. For those who fancy the romantic notion of living on a farm -please let go of that fantasy if you ever find yourself with the opportunity to own/live on a farm. It takes energy, effort and efficiency - if you are inclined to that level of self-discipline. For those who are - things may be somewhat smoother. For those of us who are, shall we say, more flexible, it can be daunting to get everything accomplished that you want to. And even that statement is somewhat misleading as there is no ending to the tasks that are part of farm life. However, living on a farm provides endless fodder for storytelling and so that's the plan as I continue this blog. Which up till now had only 20 entries. Yikes, that's not going to get me anywhere. Not if I'm serious about wanting to write....and since the advice is to write what you know, this is what I know. Or am learning about.
But -as my most recent FB posts shows...while life on the farm is work, it also provides a lot to write about. Yesterday's upheaval with the chickens comes to mind: After one of our chickens came running around to the front of the house - faster than Andy Pettite I ran to the back in time to see a fox picking up "dinner." I started screaming "fox, fox!!!" Our weekend/holiday kid J came running back around as well and threw the hot dog buns that he was holding, over the fence and then hauled himself over. The fox wisely decided to make a break for it. As we headed back to the grill J says to me in all seriousness, "I thought you were shouting the F word." I am still laughing. And I am...still laughing. what a hoot. Although that word has escaped my lips before, it's not something I would be running around screaming...in my head - maybe but not out loud. In front of a kid or kids. Anyway - this is the type of thing I want to record and share for those who may be interested but it's also a way to just do what I say I want to do and that's write. Does anyone else have any ideas to keep me going?
It also occurs to me that if I am able to keep this a regular wake up time, I may actually be able to post on a regular basis. Write and post. Write and post. That has always been a part of the plan for my life but I have been so negligent. But no self-flagellation. Just do it. However, even at this early hour the dogs are managing to be a distraction. It's amazing the things that can come between a person and her intentions. Of course it doesn't take much. Although I say that I want to write, it's truly amazing how much I let distract me. To quote Dorothy Parker, (I think), I'm more of the opinion that I like "having written." The actual sitting down and writing takes an amazing amount of discipline. It's too reminiscent of having to do homework and term papers during my school days. It's funny though because once I get started, I enjoy crafting the paragraphs that tell a story as well as doing research if necessary. For me, it's like discovering hidden treasures. Having to write a sermon on a near weekly basis is pretty much the equivalent of writing a term paper. Weekly. That's a lot and I know that when I was younger, it would not have been voluntary thing.
So - as to farm life, I enjoy the physicality of the work although let me not kid myself. I do not overload myself when it comes to heavy duty requirements. The thing is - it's not that I don't want to. I do but my stamina and energy and physical abilities stop lower on the ladder than that of others. I just cannot exert anymore energy than that of oh, I don't know, a 54 year old grandmother. But that's really not an accurate picture of grandmahood. Many women my age as well as both younger and older have much more energy and physical strength to accomplish specific taskes. And to prove it's not a matter of my age, it's been this way almost forever. I was never the one to keep up with the crowd, whether running or bicycling. I do help Dave with his endeavors but he knows not to push the envelope. Once I feel I've exerted my maximum effort, I'm done. It's over. I have to go and replenish the energy stores for further tasks.
This is the really funny or maybe ironic part of this whole farm thing. It's been more my practice to do less work and here I am taking on what is basically and endless enterprise. Never mind household ownership, farm reality dictates that there will always be something to work on. And I volunteered for this. Wanted it even. Mom & Dad always indicated that farm life was hard work. I would say I wish we lived on a farm and Mom would basically snort and say, "Never again." She had grown up on a farm and couldn't wait to leave. She moved to the city in her late teen years and remained there until she and Dad decided that their family needed to be a suburban family so when I was four, we moved to Monmouth County, NJ. After reading Charlotte's Webb and other animal related tales, that's when my desire to live the country life awakened. But Mom & Dad did not mislead me. For those who fancy the romantic notion of living on a farm -please let go of that fantasy if you ever find yourself with the opportunity to own/live on a farm. It takes energy, effort and efficiency - if you are inclined to that level of self-discipline. For those who are - things may be somewhat smoother. For those of us who are, shall we say, more flexible, it can be daunting to get everything accomplished that you want to. And even that statement is somewhat misleading as there is no ending to the tasks that are part of farm life. However, living on a farm provides endless fodder for storytelling and so that's the plan as I continue this blog. Which up till now had only 20 entries. Yikes, that's not going to get me anywhere. Not if I'm serious about wanting to write....and since the advice is to write what you know, this is what I know. Or am learning about.
But -as my most recent FB posts shows...while life on the farm is work, it also provides a lot to write about. Yesterday's upheaval with the chickens comes to mind: After one of our chickens came running around to the front of the house - faster than Andy Pettite I ran to the back in time to see a fox picking up "dinner." I started screaming "fox, fox!!!" Our weekend/holiday kid J came running back around as well and threw the hot dog buns that he was holding, over the fence and then hauled himself over. The fox wisely decided to make a break for it. As we headed back to the grill J says to me in all seriousness, "I thought you were shouting the F word." I am still laughing. And I am...still laughing. what a hoot. Although that word has escaped my lips before, it's not something I would be running around screaming...in my head - maybe but not out loud. In front of a kid or kids. Anyway - this is the type of thing I want to record and share for those who may be interested but it's also a way to just do what I say I want to do and that's write. Does anyone else have any ideas to keep me going?
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Enough of winter
It's winter. There's snow. A lot of snow. But it's winter in the northeast and snow is traditionally a part of the picture. It's just that this winter there has been a lot more snow than we've seen in recent years. Funnily enough it was a winter like this when Dave & I first met; February 1994. We both attended New Brunswick Theological Seminary in NJ but didn't know each other. That February there came the deep snows that people remembered from our childhoods. The kind that had snow mountains on every corner of every street. The snow started coming down and kept coming so by the end of the day I knew I wouldn't make it home. The wipers weren't clearing the windshield and although it was only a 16 mile drive home, I wasn't going to risk it. I asked the RA of the dorms if I could stay in the extra room and he said ok. It turned out to be an ok which led to a rather route changing event....I was about to meet the man of my dreams. How corny but true. We actually met in October when a mutual friend introduced us while doing Hebrew h.w. in the library. Dave was rummaging through the books for his h.w. and noticed Kathy and myself talking and working. He came over, said hi, I said hi and that was the extent of our communication. But 4 months later we got to spend a couple of hours together playing a seriously competitive Trivial Pursuit marathon with other resident students. Over the next several months we got to know each other as he finished up his final semester and I added a couple of credits to my files. Twenty years later and we're living on a farm in sort of upstate NY (south of Albany - 150 miles north of NYC). So, an "ok" led to my childhood dreams coming true; the man of my dreams on a farm in the country. Cold country however.
It's been cold this winter. Zero degree and below kind of cold. The snow just keeps on falling. Which is fine except not this year. I don't know why but I've had enough. After moving north in 1998 I took up xc skiing and came to enjoy the snowy days and nights which provided time for little mini-retreats from the everyday routine. Maybe it's that we have to be out more often tromping around in the knee deep snow in order to feed the farm animals. I've always wanted to live on a farm and now I do. I enjoy it. But I confess that having to carry water from house to barnyard in 20 and 10 degree weather is not fun. I don't know how people manage to work in the cold for days and weeks as a time. The animals manage. We keep them sheltered and fed. But it does wear thin after several weeks of it. So yes, I have been whining. At some level I have adjusted. I noted recently on my FB page that I was running back and forth to the gym in shorts. In sub-32 degree weather. Which I would never have done in my younger years. So yes, getting older doesn't mean things can't change. Other things that change don't always feel good. Like memory loss. It's not like I haven't forgotten things before but that was mainly due to distraction or not really being interested in what I needed to be interested in. But now I'm forgetting things that I really am invested in - although I second-guess myself by saying that if I was really committed to them I wouldn't forget. But I'm really forgetting.
Like meeting times and appointments. I have to write big notes and leave them around so I can be reminded of where I need to be. And even then it's not always enough. I have meeting reminders what's the word - oh yes forget them too - programmed into my smart phone but the phone isn't smart enough to make sure I pay attention and tonight I missed a meeting I wanted to attend and am really mortified and pissed. I cannot believe I missed it. I had everything all planned out as far as chores and dinner and getting out the door on time. And I did all that. Except I was an hour behind time.
Where oh where is Erma Bombeck when we need her? When I need her. She went through the experience of being oh so human while also being able to turn it into fodder for her column which provided her with an outlet and an income. Wouldn't mind being able to do that for myself. That's part of why I joined Toastmaster International. I wanted to be able to hone my speaking and leadership skills and maybe find an outlet for my love of speaking and also being able to uplift others. Laugh at self, encourage others, earn a living. Living on the farm provides it's own material which if I could pull it all together would find me where I'm meant to be. But no more whining. At least not for tonight. It's time to check things out - make sure the animals are settled for the night and then plan my day for tomorrow. It will be interesting to see if I can fulfill the goals for the day. But if nothing else...the cow, the pigs, the horses and chickens, dogs and cats will all be fed and sheltered and in that the day will be well spent. Dreams really do come true.
It's been cold this winter. Zero degree and below kind of cold. The snow just keeps on falling. Which is fine except not this year. I don't know why but I've had enough. After moving north in 1998 I took up xc skiing and came to enjoy the snowy days and nights which provided time for little mini-retreats from the everyday routine. Maybe it's that we have to be out more often tromping around in the knee deep snow in order to feed the farm animals. I've always wanted to live on a farm and now I do. I enjoy it. But I confess that having to carry water from house to barnyard in 20 and 10 degree weather is not fun. I don't know how people manage to work in the cold for days and weeks as a time. The animals manage. We keep them sheltered and fed. But it does wear thin after several weeks of it. So yes, I have been whining. At some level I have adjusted. I noted recently on my FB page that I was running back and forth to the gym in shorts. In sub-32 degree weather. Which I would never have done in my younger years. So yes, getting older doesn't mean things can't change. Other things that change don't always feel good. Like memory loss. It's not like I haven't forgotten things before but that was mainly due to distraction or not really being interested in what I needed to be interested in. But now I'm forgetting things that I really am invested in - although I second-guess myself by saying that if I was really committed to them I wouldn't forget. But I'm really forgetting.
Like meeting times and appointments. I have to write big notes and leave them around so I can be reminded of where I need to be. And even then it's not always enough. I have meeting reminders what's the word - oh yes forget them too - programmed into my smart phone but the phone isn't smart enough to make sure I pay attention and tonight I missed a meeting I wanted to attend and am really mortified and pissed. I cannot believe I missed it. I had everything all planned out as far as chores and dinner and getting out the door on time. And I did all that. Except I was an hour behind time.
Where oh where is Erma Bombeck when we need her? When I need her. She went through the experience of being oh so human while also being able to turn it into fodder for her column which provided her with an outlet and an income. Wouldn't mind being able to do that for myself. That's part of why I joined Toastmaster International. I wanted to be able to hone my speaking and leadership skills and maybe find an outlet for my love of speaking and also being able to uplift others. Laugh at self, encourage others, earn a living. Living on the farm provides it's own material which if I could pull it all together would find me where I'm meant to be. But no more whining. At least not for tonight. It's time to check things out - make sure the animals are settled for the night and then plan my day for tomorrow. It will be interesting to see if I can fulfill the goals for the day. But if nothing else...the cow, the pigs, the horses and chickens, dogs and cats will all be fed and sheltered and in that the day will be well spent. Dreams really do come true.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Rooster Haven - progress?
Good Evening Self -
Why is it that I can have a great thought in my head and not get it down when I actually go to sit and write? I have great topic right around me, the animals and the farm and yet here it is again, a year later and I have not given my writing it's due. Oh well. The farm is still here, the animals being their animal selves and I had a couple of great stories but let it go....
Oh for pete's sake. I'm done for tonight. Next time I have a thought - I have to actually WRITE.
Thanksgiving though for my crazy dogs, cats and animal friends. Oh dribble. What on earth. Let's start again tomorrow.
Why is it that I can have a great thought in my head and not get it down when I actually go to sit and write? I have great topic right around me, the animals and the farm and yet here it is again, a year later and I have not given my writing it's due. Oh well. The farm is still here, the animals being their animal selves and I had a couple of great stories but let it go....
Oh for pete's sake. I'm done for tonight. Next time I have a thought - I have to actually WRITE.
Thanksgiving though for my crazy dogs, cats and animal friends. Oh dribble. What on earth. Let's start again tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Catching Up
It's amazing how many pieces or blog posts I've written over the last year or so...truly amazing I tell you but you have no cause to believe me. Why should you? I haven't posted a darn thing in all that time. I write really great stuff. Too bad it stays in my head. Today I've had about 3 hours of free time in which I could have done any number of things, writing included but I spent about 2 of those hours procratinating or finding elswhere to focus. The expereince is very similar to the typical Saturday night antics I engage in while working on Sunday's sermon. It's remarkable how all of a sudden all kinds of things need to get done "right now" instead of doing any actual writing. I know this is not uncommon but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I really wonder what the hold up is, the obstacle that prevents me from doing what I say it is I want to do - which is write.
Oh well..it's not that there's a lack of things to write about. The animals provide many opportunities for me to create the written picture of life here on the farm but once I get in the house, the inspiration drains away and I end up doing anything else but writing. I did read somewhere that anyone can write when inspired...the trick is to writing even when there's no inspiration around. This is work no question about it but so maybe that' my issue. It's work and although I enjoy "having written" as I think Dorothy Parker said, writing is something else.
Red letter day here on the farm. The old septic system is gone and a new tank was just installed. This is very good news. According the the man who did the work it looked like it hadn't been pumped out or replaced since the 1960's. I have no doubt about that...heaven knows the stench made the case for it having been quite a while. Mama Jo is very happy. Work seems to be progressing around here. It goes by fits and starts. I have a fit and Dave starts working is the basic formula. It's not that he sits around twiddling his thumbs. Serving 2 congregations keeps him pretty busy and he was definitely sidetracked whe he got hit with the flu bug or whatever that horrible experience was. I got sick for 5 days - very very sick but then got over it. Dave got sick and after a month - 5 weeks, it seems as if the bug has given up and gone elsewhere...or just succumbed to its own life and death cycle. That was a lot of time that he could have been doing things. But we're not going to revisit that. He has started work on the upstairs bathroom and it will be completed this year. Three and half years after pulling out the tub, toilet and sink. But other things had to be taken care of ....mainly the foster kids. They kept us going in a whole 'nother universe but after 3 years of kids in and out of the hosue - we're back to just us two and our son who helps out around here. Once or twice a month, one of our "kids" comes to hang out and have some one on one attention in order to have some space which is working out well. Having been a full-time foster parent was something I'd always wanted to do and Dave eventually agreed but I came to realize that there are reasons for the seasons of life and right now the only kid I really want to spend time with is our new grandson - who is all of 3 months old. There is nothing like being a grandparent and I don't even get to spend that much time with him....since he and his parents are 3 hours away but it doesn't matter. I've entered into a new community - one which is just thrilling.
As I think about any number of things this thought keeps recurring...I wish Erma Bombeck was still with us. She was so able to bring humor to life's not always humourous moments as she shared with her readers. I started reading her columns when I was very young - probably a teen. She could mae me laugh out loud even though I really had no common ground with her at that time. While she wrote about being a parent and facing the fact of aging - I was still in the "life will last forever" phase of my life yet that's how good she was. She told funny stories and whether or not one could identify with the details, we could all identify with the humor. I miss Erma. I need her funny reflections on what going through menopause is like and what's it's like to be closer to the end of one's life than the beginning. Her life was cut short no question. She had to face that earlier in the cycle rather than later. She did that well too - finding ways to share what living with cancer was like - for her...including finding the humor in a very dark place. I miss her...
Oh well..it's not that there's a lack of things to write about. The animals provide many opportunities for me to create the written picture of life here on the farm but once I get in the house, the inspiration drains away and I end up doing anything else but writing. I did read somewhere that anyone can write when inspired...the trick is to writing even when there's no inspiration around. This is work no question about it but so maybe that' my issue. It's work and although I enjoy "having written" as I think Dorothy Parker said, writing is something else.
Red letter day here on the farm. The old septic system is gone and a new tank was just installed. This is very good news. According the the man who did the work it looked like it hadn't been pumped out or replaced since the 1960's. I have no doubt about that...heaven knows the stench made the case for it having been quite a while. Mama Jo is very happy. Work seems to be progressing around here. It goes by fits and starts. I have a fit and Dave starts working is the basic formula. It's not that he sits around twiddling his thumbs. Serving 2 congregations keeps him pretty busy and he was definitely sidetracked whe he got hit with the flu bug or whatever that horrible experience was. I got sick for 5 days - very very sick but then got over it. Dave got sick and after a month - 5 weeks, it seems as if the bug has given up and gone elsewhere...or just succumbed to its own life and death cycle. That was a lot of time that he could have been doing things. But we're not going to revisit that. He has started work on the upstairs bathroom and it will be completed this year. Three and half years after pulling out the tub, toilet and sink. But other things had to be taken care of ....mainly the foster kids. They kept us going in a whole 'nother universe but after 3 years of kids in and out of the hosue - we're back to just us two and our son who helps out around here. Once or twice a month, one of our "kids" comes to hang out and have some one on one attention in order to have some space which is working out well. Having been a full-time foster parent was something I'd always wanted to do and Dave eventually agreed but I came to realize that there are reasons for the seasons of life and right now the only kid I really want to spend time with is our new grandson - who is all of 3 months old. There is nothing like being a grandparent and I don't even get to spend that much time with him....since he and his parents are 3 hours away but it doesn't matter. I've entered into a new community - one which is just thrilling.
As I think about any number of things this thought keeps recurring...I wish Erma Bombeck was still with us. She was so able to bring humor to life's not always humourous moments as she shared with her readers. I started reading her columns when I was very young - probably a teen. She could mae me laugh out loud even though I really had no common ground with her at that time. While she wrote about being a parent and facing the fact of aging - I was still in the "life will last forever" phase of my life yet that's how good she was. She told funny stories and whether or not one could identify with the details, we could all identify with the humor. I miss Erma. I need her funny reflections on what going through menopause is like and what's it's like to be closer to the end of one's life than the beginning. Her life was cut short no question. She had to face that earlier in the cycle rather than later. She did that well too - finding ways to share what living with cancer was like - for her...including finding the humor in a very dark place. I miss her...
Monday, January 28, 2013
Persistence or Plain Foolishness
The hen is back on the nest. Now this isn't news... hens are generally expected to sit on their nests, doing their duty to nurture and protect the prospetive chickies through gestation. But this wanna be momma has lost all sense of limitations re: her responsibilities. I wrote about her the other day - how she's been nesting since before Thanksgiving. I took her off the nest that day and put her in w/the others - in her own little nesting box. However, over the course of the last few days, the chicks in that living space have been able to come and go as I did not keep the coop locked. Well, guess where she is? Yep - back on the nest where I didn't get rid of the eggs. She has been sitting for about 3 consecutive days and continues to sit and wait, through the bitter cold and today's snow. I don't know what to do - or if I should do anything. She is spending her life waiting for something that will never happen and who am I to determine she should do otherwise? But, but, she's a chicken. She doesn't know those eggs will never hatch. I know they won't but she doeesn't. Is there any level of chicken awareness that will reveal that piece of information to her so that she can continue to go on with the business of living? Which isn't much more than eating, pecking, scratching and sleeping. Not quite the full itinerary that us humans have. Our days can be as full or empty of activity as we like - theoretically speaking. Some of us have full schedules that have more to do with the simple desire to live and meet basic needs while others have the freedom to decide how full or empty they want their days to be.
And The Vinny - (her name - sort of) is free from all the angst and expectation that we have upon awaking each morning. There is no thinking - no considering the fact that her due date came and went weeks ago. She doesn't care or more likely - she doesn't process that reality..she just sits and waits; sits and waits. And I can only assume that she is fine with it. I really shouldn't let her just sit there...it's cold, bitterly cold and there is nothing that is going to come out of this...other than a frostbitten comb. Yet I also wish I had her persistence and determination...if I did maybe at least one of my collection of ideas would come to fruition. One book, play, collection of poems, children's story, something would be finished. Or I would have found a way to pursue earning a living that would provide more income so that we could finish the many un-done projects around here - house or farm. Something would be done. But it's all a work in progress. Dave feels that it being a work in progress is progress. I understand that there are things which have been accomplished but I want the Big Project to be closer to done. You know, the upstairs bathroom which has been waiting for 3 years...or the downstair bathroom which needs to be moved...or the other side of the house which could conceivably be an apartment - thereby serving 2 purposes; that of providing someone w/a home and providing us w/income. The stalls would be done, the chicken coops completed, other avenues of income would be open to us...but then we're back to the beginning of the circle. Dave finds his satisfaction in the working on the projects. I don't mind and even enjoy it but want to see some completion. And then I go out and see The Vinny. And she just is....
Still is....I think I need some of that.
And The Vinny - (her name - sort of) is free from all the angst and expectation that we have upon awaking each morning. There is no thinking - no considering the fact that her due date came and went weeks ago. She doesn't care or more likely - she doesn't process that reality..she just sits and waits; sits and waits. And I can only assume that she is fine with it. I really shouldn't let her just sit there...it's cold, bitterly cold and there is nothing that is going to come out of this...other than a frostbitten comb. Yet I also wish I had her persistence and determination...if I did maybe at least one of my collection of ideas would come to fruition. One book, play, collection of poems, children's story, something would be finished. Or I would have found a way to pursue earning a living that would provide more income so that we could finish the many un-done projects around here - house or farm. Something would be done. But it's all a work in progress. Dave feels that it being a work in progress is progress. I understand that there are things which have been accomplished but I want the Big Project to be closer to done. You know, the upstairs bathroom which has been waiting for 3 years...or the downstair bathroom which needs to be moved...or the other side of the house which could conceivably be an apartment - thereby serving 2 purposes; that of providing someone w/a home and providing us w/income. The stalls would be done, the chicken coops completed, other avenues of income would be open to us...but then we're back to the beginning of the circle. Dave finds his satisfaction in the working on the projects. I don't mind and even enjoy it but want to see some completion. And then I go out and see The Vinny. And she just is....
Still is....I think I need some of that.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Ok -writing again
Why is it that I create so well in my head, walking around the farm and then when it's time to write, I can't remember anything at all that I intended to write about. Yes, I know, I should be carrying a note pad and pen with me so that I can jot down reminder notes. But I don't. So, I'm left with remembering and that doesn't work so well these days. Oh well. It's Yom Kippur today...the day of atonement. I am clear I have much to atone for...
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